#allyssaTM

[phan-of-the-pen]

what a plot twist you were

My last @phandombigbang fic is here!!! Enjoy you guys!!!

Thank you so so much @blockdedibujo for making the art to this fic! Reblog the art here!

Tags: fluff, angst, getting together, getting drunk, alcohol, minor swearing, bartender!Dan, implied/referenced cheating in past relationships

Word Count: 14.2k

Summary: Dan works as a bartender at nights to pay the bills. His night just keeps getting worse and worse however: some guy tried to grope him, he had three drinks spilled on his shirt so far, and he was tired as hell. But he manages to exit the fray with a new best friend, a man named Phil Lester who has had his heart broken one time too many and has sworn off love. What happens, however, when they fall for one another?

(ao3!) (check out my other fics!)

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan just wanted to go home and fucking sleep.

His day had been particularly miserable. He'd nearly lost all of his groceries and K.O.'d himself trying to walk up the stairs to his flat, he'd stubbed his toe not once, but three times on the same table corner, he'd lost his earbuds, and his laptop had a meltdown about seven seconds into Dan trying to actually use the ancient thing. So upon him coming into work, he already hadn't been in the best of moods.

But in Dan's normal luck, his day only got worse.

It was a Saturday night, so Dan had already been expecting a load of people, but tonight everyone and their mum had apparently decided to go out for drinks because Dan's bar was flooded with people. And all of them were seemingly seeking out to get absolutely smashed.

In translation, that meant Dan earned a shit ton of money, but his shift was hellish.

It was rounding eleven o'clock at night and he still had several hours left of his shift, which looked like he'd be spending in a tequila and margarita soaked shirt because he's had at least three drinks spilled on him so far. To make things better, he'd also had to practically scream for the club's bouncer because a guy drunk one vodka had nearly vaulted over the bar to grope Dan's ass as he was trying to keep up with the drink orders flying in.

So really, Dan was just angry and exhausted, and would probably saw off his arm to curl up in bed at this point.

"Rum and Coke," Dan called, sliding the glass down the bar where an older guy was waiting. He immediately started mixing another—this one a complicated but down-right delicious margarita—the front of his shirt plastered uncomfortably to his body and sticky with half-dried alcohol.

After about fifteen minutes of god-like bartending, a fair amount of the people had left to some other part of the club to dance or flirt, or whatever else anyone does when they're half-way between trashed and tipsy.

He poured the martini into it's glass, added a few olives, and handed it off to the woman waiting. She slipped him an extra tip and a smile after a sip. A man who looked a little older than Dan slumped into the seat of the bar farthest away from everyone else, shoulders slumped together. Dan made his way over when he had the chance.

"What'll it be?" he asked, keeping one eye on the drunk pair of guys practically making out on his bar counter. He'd have to call Al—the bouncer—if they took things any farther. "What?" He asked after he realized that they guy had answered him, but Dan hadn't heard a thing.

"A Black Sunday."

Dan almost asked the guy what he wanted to drink a third time. Surely he had to have heard wrong.

He served a lot of people in a night, sure, and while he was operating in a smaller-scale club, he still had a few people that were here for nothing but the chance to drink their worries away, not to pick up strangers and have fun that they wouldn't even remember the next morning.

The guy's voice was gruff and warbled, but Dan could tell that it wasn't from alcohol. He turned his full attention to the man before him. He was dressed in rumpled clothing that looked as if it had been what he'd slept in the night before and his pitch-black hair was pulled back in a messy quiff—if you could even call it that. There were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and tear stains rolling down his cheeks. Regardless, Dan couldn't ignore his inherent beauty. His skin was that pretty pale you saw on Instagram, his face sculpted and angular. His eyes were a crystal-blue that reminded Dan of one of his specialty drinks—a fruity cocktail that was fairly popular.

"Okay," Dan said slowly.

A Black Sunday was a hard-core drink. The least potent ingredient was an ounce of 101-proof Wild Turkey Bourbon, and the ounce of  190-proof Everclear vodka added made it have a higher alcohol content than illegal American moonshine. The drink itself was sought after so infrequently, Dan could count on his hands the amount of times he had been asked to make one in all of his years of bartending.

Dan added the bourbon to the cocktail glass, followed by a generous amount of black cherry soda to keep it from tasting like antifreeze. He passed it to the guy who ordered it, and watched in near horror as he took a large gulp without even flinching.

Jesus, there's no way I'm messing with this guy. He's got some serious nerves to be drinking Bloody Sunday's like that. They’re almost straight fucking alcohol. 

Dan's attention was called away by a group of people siding up to the bar, all talking loudly. Dan makes their drinks just in time for more people to come. The cycle continues like it normally does every busy night for a while—one order leading to another. The guy sticks around, not saying anything to anyone besides the one time he asked for a refill from Dan.

Eventually, the stream of constant people vying for a drink ebs a little before one in the morning, and Dan finally gets a chance to breathe. The alcohol that had been spilled on him early on had dried, leaving a vague alcoholic stench on Dan's being. His feet hurt a little, and he was starting to get tired of dealing with loads of drunks.

"Another, please."

Dan scooped up the empty glass, holding it for a moment and not immediately filling it.  "You might want to slow down with these, mate, they can knock people out cold for like, a whole damn day if you have enough."

The guy didn't say anything back, just started with his red eyes, something hurt in them. Signing, Dan picked up the Everclear.

"I can't believe you've had so many of these, they taste like shit." Dan said simply, putting the bottles back where they went. He handed the now-full glass back to the guy, who nodded in appreciation, taking a large swig.

"They really do," He said, looking at the dark liquid in his hand as if it had personally offended him. Dan smiled and rolled his eyes.

"At least you know that you're torturing your taste buds, I guess."

The guy snorted.

"Yeah, a rude awakening from my normal fruity cocktails," he muttered, sipping his drink.

"Oh my god, there's no way that you drink stuff like that if you're here, on your third Black Sunday and still looking like you need about seven more to get smashed."

"Hard to believe, huh? God, if anyone that knew me could see me now. Or even if I just, I don't know, told someone they'd still never believe me. 'Phil, you cringe at gin and tonics there's no way that you'd drink that' is probably exactly what they'd say." Phil deflated a little, his lip pulling down like he just remembered something that he'd rather forget. "Well, I'd bet anything that it won't take me seven more, but if that's what I need to forget fucking everything," Phil downed almost the rest of his drink, the bottom of the cup clunking back down to the bar, "then by all means I'll do it."

Dan's anxiety spiked a little. He didn't really like it when there was conflict, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that this guy was going through some shit. He decided to change the topic.

"Phil, huh? I'm Dan," Dan said, throwing a glance down the bar, making sure that there still weren't any new customers.

Phil hummed in reply and swallowed down the last dregs of his Black Sunday.

"Another please, Dan. If you can't tell I don't even want to remember my own name."

Frowning, Dan complied, even if a little reluctantly.

"You know, it's probably really bad business, but alcohol is absolute shit for you," he said, passing Phil the cup. Their hands brushed.

"Is that like your doctor telling you that there's more side effects than actual things that help you in a medication?"

Dan laughed. "A little specific, but yeah, I guess so. Are you speaking from experience?" Dan asked, leaning on the bar.

"No, but I did have a really bad experience at the gym."

Dan snorted. Hasn’t everyone? 

"No! Really, I did!"

"What'd you do, trip on the treadmill? I hate to break it to you, Phil, but everyone does that."

"I haven't! Besides, that's not what happened at all."

Phil launched himself into an in-depth story about how he'd hired a trainer to help him out, show him the ropes, give him something easy to do, and how it had gone horribly wrong. Dan listened in rapt attention, horrified at what had supposedly happened. In fact, he'd given Phil so much of his focus that when a younger girl asked for a drink, Dan had nearly fucked it up royally because he wasn't paying attention to the cocktail that his hands were trying to independently make.

They kept talking, and if Dan was honest, Phil was more than fun to converse with. They were able to trade stories and even a few jokes. The fact that Phil was extremely attractive even in his severely rumpled state was just an added bonus.

As it rounded three-thirty, there was a surge of people, anxiously drunk for a few last minute drinks before they stumbled their way home or into someone else's arms. The influx carried Dan away from Phil for probably twenty minutes, throwing a wedge into their conversation. Dan, for his part, tried to make the drinks as fast as possible because he wanted to continue where they'd left off—Phil trying to get Dan to believe that a stranger had once walked up to Phil and woofed in his ear.

When he finally returned to Phil, he could tell that it wasn't going to happen.

Phil was slumped over his drink, scowling and clearly buried in his own thoughts. There were tears brimming in his eyes, and the drink that he'd done less than look at in he and Dan's hour long conversation was almost gone. When Phil saw Dan approach him, he chugged the remainder and held it out for Dan to take.

"Another."

Dan's heart pained him.

"Phil…"

"Another." Phil said, his voice so hard and cold, yet so raw.

"No, Phil, I'm not serving you another Black Sunday. You've had too much and I won't be responsible for your liver committing suicide right in front of my eyes!" Dan huffed, his arms crossing. Phil's expression turned sharp, something in his eyes turning dark and jagged. Dan shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He was unnerved, yes, but Dan stood his ground even if his insides felt like they were grinding together.

Lip curling up into the beginning of a snarl, Phil dropped his hand down, the cocktail glass coming down so hard and fast that Dan feared it would shatter.

"Love. The whole thing is fucked." Phil growled suddenly.

Dan knit his eyebrows. What?

"I mean," Phil said, glaring at his empty glass, "it doesn't feel like it at first. It's all fluffy and happy, skipping classes in secondary school to make-out and holding hands and just...love. And then, oh fuck, then it just gets better. You graduate, both go to separate uni's but out of some miracle you make it work. You move in together. And god, you're so in love it hurts. You spend all of your time together and you love each other and…" Phil drifted off, the knuckles on his wrist blotchy and white, but Dan was too drawn into the soft words Phil was speaking to fear for the safety of the cocktail glass. "And then, he leaves you for one of your friends. But not before fucking the other guy first, and ripping your heart out of your fucking chest and stomping on it." Phil was shaking by the end, a mixture of fire and endless pain in his eyes.

"It hurts so bad, having to try and pick your life back up again from where it was scattered into such small, jagged pieces. Nothing's right either because you're stuck in a constant state of missing. It's been you and him for years at this point—how the hell are you supposed to just move on?" Phil shook his head. "I don't even care. Love isn't supposed to reduce you to sobs, and I want no part of it for the rest of my life," Phil said, practically spitting the last few words, distaste clear on his face.

"Phil...I…" Dan started when it was obvious that Phil wasn't going to say anything else, but he didn't know what to say. Fuck.

With Dan's horrified words, the spell was broken. Phil's head snapped up from where it had been gazing at the table. He stared at Dan for a moment, all of his emotion sprawled out before it all melted away in a single heartbeat, smoothing out into an impenetrable wall. He stood so abruptly that in his intoxicated state, he nearly toppled over. But Dan didn't have a chance to help him before Phil was pushing and shoving his way through the crowd.

Dan felt something heavy settle in his heart. He'd been a bartender for a fair amount of time, and he's had more than his fair share of sob stories. He hated hearing them and knowing that people were hurting enough to fall down the horrendously slippery slope of alcoholism. But the reality was that he could only offer words of comfort, maybe a few free drinks and some advice, but that was it. He'd have to watch as they left.

"Can I get a goddamn drink?"

Dan ground his teeth, turning himself away from where Phil disappeared into the crowd. A thirty-something guy was leaning on the bar, obviously hammered. He carelessly gave his order, eyeing up a pretty blonde a little farther down the bar. Dan made it on autopilot.

The rest of the night was a blur. Business picked up in the remaining few hours, and Dan was working hard to keep up with the orders. Nevertheless, he did it, and even did a relatively above average cleaning job after Al threw out the last of the drunks passed out on the dancefloor.

The rest of the night, he didn't see even a glimpse of that messy black hair.

~~~~~

The next few nights business passed as normal.

Dan took his late shifts in stride, none of them sporting crowds near the likely record that there had been on Saturday. Wednesday, however, at what was an estimate of two-am, a sullen and melancholy voice called out behind him.

"Black Sunday, please."

Dan turned, unable to stop the twitch of his upper lip trying to form a smile when he saw Phil.

Phil was wearing a different button-up, and while he looked to have the same rumpled aura, the shock of black hair seemed to be not quite as tangled and his shoulders were not as drawn in.

Then again, Dan might have just been projecting his wish for Phil to get better onto the man.

"Back again?" Dan asked, sliding a cocktail glass off of it's rack. Phil tossed him the skeleton of a little smile. Dan handed the now-full glass to Phil, and not having a moment to stop and talk, turned back to the other waiting customers.

After a lull in customers opened up he took the opportunity to turn his attention back to Phil. It had been probably about half an hour since Dan had given Phil his drink, and the glass was empty in Phil's pale hands.

Dan frowned, reaching for one of the water bottles he kept behind the bar and setting it down in front of Phil. Phil looked up, confused.

"You're not getting another Black Sunday out of me unless you drink at least this whole thing."

"What? Since when is that a thing?"

"Since you had a billion of them the other night and they have enough alcohol in them to knock out a gorilla."

Phil's brow was still crinkled, but he didn't protest further, curling his hand around the bottle. He sat like that for a moment before looking back up at Dan. 

"Are you calling me a gorilla?" he asked softly, confusion still on his face, head tilted. Dan's eyebrows shot to the sky and he swore he rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his head.

"Is that seriously all you focused on? Jesus, Phil."

"Hey!"

"Here I am, being all kind, giving you water-"

"Dan."

"-and looking out for you-"

"Oh my god, Dan."

"-and you ask me if you're a fucking gorilla?" Dan finished incredulously. Phil was laughing, his tongue poking out from between his teeth, the action making Dan's chest feel warm. Feeling inexplicably and suddenly giddy, Dan continued.

"You know, Phil, I expected better of you, really. Hydration isn't a joke and you of all people should have-"

"Shh!" Phil laughed, reaching up easily against Dan's frame leaning over the bar and clasping his hand over Dan's mouth. And, miraculously stunned, Dan shut up.

Normally, when a customer would touch Dan anywhere—arm, shoulder, waist, hip, or anything else outside of the route of possible and normal physical contact of handing off a drink or collecting a payment—Dan would either chew them out or call Al over depending on his mood that day.

But Dan couldn't tear his eyes away from Phil's clear blue ones, his face happy and giggling, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol in his first Black Sunday. In fact, he didn't do anything but stand there with his upper body braced on the bar by his elbows, paralyzed by Phil's warm palm on his lips, his face so close, eyes so bright.

Phil pulled away after a second or two, and yet it still felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

Dan didn't really know what to do with the knowledge that a touch so casual and obviously careless by a man he'd just met could throw him off like this.

Pulling himself out of his head, Dan forced himself to act somewhat normal, looking behind him to partly look for if there were any other customers waiting, and partly to look like he was keeping an eye out for customers, but instead using the moment turned away from Phil to collect himself.

Dan brought his head back only for Phil's eyes to instantly lock onto Dan's. Phil smiled.

"Where were we?"

They got to talking, and just like the other night, everything just flowed. They even had a heated debate hours later on which Muse album was the greatest while Dan was mixing drinks for a group of college kids.

"No, it's without a doubt Origin of Symmetry."

"I'm not saying that it's a bad album! But The Resistance is easily the best!" Phil said excitedly. He took another sip of his second Black Sunday of the night. He had a certain slur to his words that pointed to his slowly increasing drunkenness, but considering how easily Phil had thrown them back last time he was here, Dan considered it a win. "James and I would always-" Phil stopped so suddenly that Dan's head whipped around, concerned as to what was wrong. Phil's eyes were wide and brimming with tears, a distressed look on his face. A sob escaped his trembling lips, and Dan heard it catch in his throat.

James and I.

It suddenly clicked in Dan's head, and he could feel his own eyes widen. He fumbled with the liquor bottles in his hands, trying not to drop them like his hands had wanted to a heartbeat ago.

"Phil, talk to me." Dan said, setting the ingredients onto the bar closer to Phil and working there, willing his hands to measure and stir and pour faster. Unfortunately, Dan was fighting a bit of an uphill battle with several people waiting for drinks.

Another sob escaped Phil's lips, and to Dan's horror, a few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.

"One of Muse's songs, that was our song. We…" Phil trailed off, hiccuping, full-on crying now. Dan barely understood his garbled words. Phil dropped his face into his hands. Dan practically threw the drinks at the people as he managed to conjure them into existence, throwing himself headfirst into making the next one.

"What did I do wrong?" Phil sobbed. "W-we were happy and w-we loved each other and I was going t-to marry him! And he cheated!"

It felt like the carpet had just been yanked out from under Dan's feet. His heart ached in sympathy for Phil.

Fuck, they were going to get married and this James guy cheated? That's fucking horrible.

Some of the people waiting for drinks were casting glances in Phil's direction, and Dan wanted to scream at them to mind their own business. Moreso, he wanted to drop everything and wrap Phil up in a hug.

"Phil," Dan said desperately, throwing together a handful of shots in seconds, "I know it may not seem like it but this James guy is an arse. You didn't deserve to get cheated on, not at all. You deserve better than him." Dan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see if any of his hasty words made it through to him, but Phil's barstool was empty, and minus the empty cocktail glass, there was no evidence that Phil had even been there.

~~~~~

Phil didn't show up again for almost two weeks.

Dan would have liked to say that on the nights he worked the bar during those two weeks he didn't keep a constant eye out for the man with the sad eyes and hunched stature, but it would have been one of the worst lies he'd ever told.

When Phil did show on a lonely Tuesday night, Dan didn't know if he should be excited or not. On one hand, Phil finding his way back into Dan's bar meant that Phil still, on some level, wanted to be around Dan (or the drinks he made, Dan's subconsciousness helpfully provided. Dan told his subconsciousness to shut up). On the other hand, it could easily mean that Phil had just slipped far enough in his sorrow that he once again needed the company of alcohol, and the thought made Dan's heart throb in shared sorrow.

But as Phil flashed Dan a smile, the edges of his shy-blue eyes crinkling, Dan was hopeless to the grin that spread over his features as a result.

"Hey."

"Hey back. How's the world of Dan...what's your last name?"

Dan raised his eyebrow a little, but still responded. "Howell."

"Great. How's the world of Dan Howell, then?"

Dan snorted and shook his head, but the smile on his face didn't falter with Phil's quirk.

"Not bad. Today's kind of empty, so I've had more time to relax than normal." Dan pulled up his stool, sitting on his side of the bar, directly across from Phil. "How's the world of Phil?"  Phil pouted, and it really shouldn't have been as adorable as it was.

"You aren't going to ask my last name?"

"I was counting on the fact that you'd tell me."

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm already the only one holding up this whole relationship." Phil whined. Dan didn't really say anything, but the word relationship threw him for a loop. It bounced around in his skull, making his thoughts sizzle to a stop for a moment before they limped back into place. Phil, however, being himself, didn't notice Dan's half a second reboot and just kept going.

"Anyways, since you won't ask, I'll tell you." Phil leaned forward, easily catching Dan's gaze. And fuck, this man shouldn't have this much power over him. "It's Lester. Philip Michael Lester," he said. Dan's attention didn't leave Phil's unearthly blue eyes, but he was all too aware at how Phil's lips were moving.

God, he needed to keep his shit together.

Dan hummed in response and swallowed, holding what was left of himself together with what seemed like only his bare hands.

Phil waited another moment before he pouted again, stronger this time.

"Dan! Ask me!"

"Ask you what?"

"You know!"

Dan leaned forward on the counter, and devilishly decided to give Phil a taste of his own medicine. However, Dan wasn't as effortlessly angelic like Phil, so he put in the work. He brought his chin down onto his hand and looked up through his lashes, making sure to soften his gaze. Dan let his shoulders relax and gave his head a little tilt, stretching his neck.

"Fine, how's the world of Philip Michael Lester?" he purred. It was obvious he was flirting. Obvious.

Phil's eyes widened, and Dan was close enough to hear the breath catch in his throat. He saw the way Phil's gaze drunk in everything Dan was offering.

And then Phil looked away, shattering the moment and bringing the reality of what Dan just did crashing down. He tried to hit on a guy who was dealing with a horrible break-up with the love of his life. God, Dan was so fucking stupid, and callous, and cruel—

"You, know, it's honestly going really, really good," Phil said, bringing Dan back to the present. Phil's gaze came back, and Dan was relieved beyond belief at it's warmth. He pulled himself back and schooled his emotions—not to mention getting himself in check.

(Dan ignored the flicker of disappointment that he swore danced across Phil's features. It was nothing but Dan projecting his own interests on the poor man.)

A couple walked up to the bar, looking expectantly at Dan, who stood as soon as they approached. He turned to Phil.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Phil smiled a little, resting his head on his palm like Dan had just been doing before. His posture was remarkably the same, but fuck with the dancing lights of the club floor highlighting his features and the downright ease at which he commanded all of Dan's attention, it was so much better than what Dan could ever pull off.

But once Dan felt his heart tug at his ribcage, he knew that he didn't really care if Phil was more attractive than him.

"Yeah," Phil said, his voice soft but still reaching Dan's ears effortlessly, "I'd like something light. I really want to remember tonight."

~~~~~

Maybe if Dan wasn't so drunk on Phil's company, he would have thought about how well they got along with each other was too good for reality. How easy it was for their friendship to click would have given Dan pause in any other frame of mind because all of his relationships with people were carefully cultivated after dozens and dozens of hours at the very least. But with Phil, Dan doubted that he could count all of the hours they had spent together on two hands. Yet, as Dan laughed at Phil's stupid jokes and their banter played off of each other effortlessly, it was easy to fall into the feeling that they had known each other for longer than reality.

Yet…

Dan wasn't paying any of that to mind.

No, right now, he was so immersed in Phil's slightly-tipsy attention that it seemed nothing but normal.

It was late—nearing three in the morning—and Phil had only had two weak drinks, good on his word. The whole night they hadn't stopped talking once. Even as Dan was mixing drinks for customers or taking orders, he was still listening intently to Phil ramble, or refusing to stop his little sarcastic interjections just because he had to do his job.

By the time Dan was nearing having to close up the club, he honestly felt that he knew Phil as well as other friends he had, if not better. No topic seemed off the table tonight, and yeah, Dan strayed away from asking stupid questions that would have obviously crossed a line or upset Phil. However they still bounced so freely from topic to topic that Dan felt he could name a thousand new things about this man who kept coming into his bar.

Video game interests, music, professions, where the hell they wanted to end up in life, what made them happy, the stars, a whole half an hour of Dan monologues about candles, different tragedies they've endured...and so much more.

The entire thing was insane. And good. It made Dan smile giddy and forget that he was a wreck.

And a hour later, as Dan wiped away the stickiness of dried alcohol on the many tables in the bar, he was left in what he could best describe as a state of awe. Never had one of his shifts passed that fast, and never has he ever enjoyed himself so much in one.

In his back pocket, Dan's phone vibrated. He slipped it out, and even though he had his assumptions as to who was texting him this early in the morning, the confirmation still made him grin wide enough to hurt.

>> From: Phil I expect you to finish that story about your piano teacher next time im there kay you left me on a cliffhanger, mate

He clicked back a quick-witted reply and pocketed his phone, continuing to clean up with a smile on his face. In the pocket of his jeans, Dan could swear that the plastic of his case was still warm from where Phil had touched it earlier—giving Dan the precious gift of instant communication to who was quickly becoming one of his favorite people—before waltzing right out of Dan's club doors, a bounce in his step and a swing in his hips.

~~~~~

>> From: Phil psst….

>> To: Phil psst

>> From: Phil work is super boring :(

>> To: Phil u were the one to pick a publisher as a prof. mate

>> From: Phil :(

I expected some sympathy and maybe a "phil you brave soul I'll come save you"

>> To: Phil *insert eyeroll*

Im in the middle of tesco and ur at work I cant just "save" u

>> From: Phil youre not going to try?

>> To: Phil whats in it for me?

>> From: Phil my time? my presence? my charming good looks? my humor??? me???

>> To: Phil ur not full of yourself at all huh

>> From: Phil :(

I need a new best friend *you* wont even rescue me :(((

~~~~~

>> From: Phil dan its 3am get off twitter

>> To: Phil phil its 3am get off ur phone

>> From: Phil dannnnnn

>> To: Phil :p

>> From: Phil come on you need sleepppp

>> To: Phil I could say the same for u

besides

staying up late is my job if anything this is training for work

>> From: Phil >:(

>> To: Phil why r u up anyways?

>> From: Phil I cant sleep

>> To: Phil James?

>> From: Phil … … yeah...

>> To: Phil dont apologize for ur feelings phil

…

idk if ur tired or not but do u want to watch a movie?

I mean

we would obvs watch it separately but we can text through it like we're sitting next to each other

…

that way ur mind can be off of James and we can keep each other company?

…

…

we dont have to

>> From: Phil that sounds pretty perfect

~~~~~

Over the following month, Dan and Phil spent an absurd amount of time texting each other. In the beginning, things were a little awkward with neither man knowing how to really proceed, but a week after Phil first typed in his number into Dan's phone and another in-person visit from Phil, things between them flowed. Not a day went by without at least a single conversation, even if it was nothing more than a dumb pun. Dan wasn't completely sure how Phil was faring with the new dependency on each other, but Dan knew that he had accidentally neglected a handful of customers this week because he had been typing out something to send to Phil.

And...the thing was...Dan was happy.

Now, it wasn't as if he had been upset with his life before per se, but more of like he had been merely content with it. He didn't jump out of bed, excited for the day, but he also didn't dread the thought of waking up again. Peculiarly, Dan found himself rolling over and checking his phone for a notification from Phil before he had even really woken up yet, already searching for that spark between them. He found himself smiling more, and more genuinely.

It was a good change.

Dan laced his fingers together above his head, stretching with a yawn. It was the early morning—around three—and he was tired. He couldn't wait to close up, text a sleeping Phil a story about one of the drunks tonight, and fall asleep.

When he spotted a familiar black head of hair, he frowned.

It was unbelievably late, not to mention that Dan knew that Phil had work tomorrow—what the hell was Phil doing awake, and hell, here?

Dan watched as Phil made his way through the crowd, and Dan's heart sank as the apparent reason why Phil had decided to show tonight made itself known.

He was disheveled, a large frown on his face, and a slump to his shoulders. His skin was paler than normal, yet there was still a flush dusting his cheeks, and Dan knew without a doubt that it was from alcohol.

Dan's heart throbbed painfully as he watched Phil stumble onto one of the barstools.

Dan stepped forward and automatically tried to reach out to offer Phil comfort, but the near complete lack of recognition startled him, making him suck in a breath. Could Phil have really forgotten him after some drinks? Dan had thought that their friendship had been worth more to the man.

He tried to get the thoughts out of his head. His hurt feelings didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that Phil was seemingly self-destructing. God Phil, how much alcohol did you have already?

"I wa't a vodka." Phil slurred, a spark finally lighting behind his eyes. "Dan!" He said, sounding cheery for a moment before his sour mood returned. "I 'eed a drink."

"Phil," Dan started, stepping as close as he could with the bar separating them, "how much did you drink before? You're already smashed I don't—Phil, no-!"

Phil frowned harder and tried to get up, the motion near unsuccessful on his uncoordinated and drink-heavy legs. Dan immediately lunged over the bar, grabbing Phil's sleeve and pulling him back onto the stool. He worked with drunks, so it was easy for Dan to tell that upon standing, Phil had more of a chance flying than trying to walk out the door. He most likely would pass out at this point.

"Look," Dan sighed, frantically thinking of a way to keep Phil here, "I'll get you a drink, okay? I'll get you one. Just...just don't leave."

Dan filled a shot glass almost all the way with water. He then threw in a dash of vodka—just enough to get the general taste of it. Phil was too far gone to tell that he was being tricked, but Dan wanted to make sure that the vague flavor of vodka would reach Phil's taste buds just in case Phil was a particularly adept drunk.

He set the glass down in front of Phil, and immediately Phil threw it back, holding it out in an unsteady hand for another. Dan compiled, however this time didn't put any vodka in, just water. He mimed pouring vodka in the glass with his back turned, put the unused bottle of vodka back, and gave it to Phil. Dan paid close attention to Phil as he drank it, but he showed no sign of knowing what he was drinking.

The last hour of Dan's shift followed a similar pattern—he gave Phil as many shots as he wanted, all of them water. Phil didn't say anything, didn't really show much evidence that he was comprehending where he was, and what he was doing, minus the occasional grunt to get Dan's attention for another drink.

The whole thing worried Dan to bits.

By the time Al was making his rounds, ensuring that all of the people had left, Dan had to stop him from tossing Phil out onto the streets.

"No!" Dan had said, panicked, almost dropping the bottles of alcohol he was restacking, "He's a friend, Al. I'll take care of him, promise."

It took a few tries to get Al to believe that Phil wasn't going to be a problem for Dan, but he eventually nodded, telling Dan to call him if he needed anything and walking out, his job done for the night.

Dan sped through the rest of the clean up, and sooner than expected he was standing outside of the locked bar, Phil half asleep and leaning all of his weight onto Dan who was desperately trying to hold him up. Dan paused for a moment, at a loss. He didn't know where Phil lived, let alone have a key to Phil's place, and wasn't sure if Phil could make it a whole night by himself in the state he was in—the last thing either of them needed was blackout-drunk Phil to accidentally hurt himself or decide to take a midnight stroll.

He glanced at the sleepy man in his arms and tapped his foot, weighing his options before letting out a huff and slipping his arm around Phil's waist, starting off down the block where Dan had parked his car. Phil tried to help, but he could barely get a step in with how uncoordinated his legs were. In circumstances other than trying to carry another man nearly as tall as him, Dan might have laughed, but Phil was heavy.

Through a lot of stumbling and a dozen almost-falls, they made it, and Dan was just barely able to get Phil into the passenger seat after ten minutes of Phil trying to move his unresponsive limbs in an effort to help, and Dan trying to stop him because it was only making things worse. By the time Dan buckled himself in and started the car, he was breathing heavily as if he'd ran the whole way to his car.

Getting Phil up to the floor of Dan's flat was simple enough due to the elevator, but getting him past the door was horrid. Phil was asleep and complete dead weight in Dan's arms, and Dan had to drag him through, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe by accident.

Once inside the flat, Dan didn't really make it very far. He rolled Phil onto the couch and collapsed onto the floor, his breathing labored. Did he sometimes have to lift heavy things while working at a bar? Sure, but that was nothing compared to an unconscious Phil.

Dan caught his breath and pulled himself back up on his feet—he couldn't rest yet. Dan removed Phil's glasses and rolled Phil onto his right side so he was facing away from the back of the couch. He then put the little trash can that he had had in his bedroom on the floor in line with Phil's head; that way if he threw up he would hopefully do it in that and not on Dan's floor. Once Dan was certain that Phil would be fine by himself for a little, Dan retreated into his bedroom and stripped himself of his bar uniform, putting on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He thought about bringing something in with him to change Phil into so he wasn't sleeping in jeans, but decided against it—there was no way to know if Phil was comfortable with Dan doing that, and Phil's possible inability to sleep well with jeans was irrelevant when he was unconscious and drunk off his ass.

Dan threw his dirty clothes into the hamper, brushed his teeth, and pulled the duvet and the pillows on his bed off, piling them on the floor in the lounge next to the couch. He went right back to his room and pulled one of his fluffiest blankets out of his closet.

Once he was back in the lounge, he let the blanket fall so he could pick up the duvet and then draped it over Phil, tucking in the corners to keep him warm. Dan slid a pillow under Phil's head and pushed the coffee table away to make room for himself before caccooning his body in the blanket on the floor, facing Phil.

It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions and his back would probably hurt tomorrow, but there was no way in hell that Dan was going to let Phil alone by himself.

It was a while before Dan's mind quieted enough for his eyes to drift closed, but the last thing he saw was Phil's peaceful face, lulled to sleep.

~~~~~

The night turned out to be more eventful than he had hoped, but no less than he had planned for, and Dan was glad that the day before he had had a good night's rest because his sleep turned out to be interrupted at best.

Phil threw up twice, and Dan both times Dan thanked his past self for putting the trash can down.

Phil hadn't been properly conscious for the first time, and it had taken Dan a half an hour to clean up a sleepy Phil and help him brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush Dan had found crammed under his sink. By the second time, Phil had sobered up a little (mainly because he had vomited up a large portion of the alcohol he had ingested). He had reached down, clutching at Dan's upper arm with one hand and the other yanking the trash can as close as he could get it. That time, Dan was awake in time to rub Phil's back and card his fingers through his hair, soothing him as he retched. Both times, while Phil went to sleep quickly afterwards, but Dan couldn't fathom another minute of sleep for at least an hour after. His focus was pinpointed onto the man on his couch and utterly convinced that Phil would need him even if Dan shut his eyes for a moment. Dan wasn't sure what the time was when he managed sleep, but grey morning light was already seeping into the apartment by the time his exhaustion had settled over him.

Dan roused close to ten in the morning, eyes heavy and body sore. His eyes fell immediately onto Phil who was still sleeping, his face peaceful and tranquil in unconsciousness. He watched Phil from his makeshift bed on the floor for a few minutes—was that creepy? Too much? If Phil was up would he be freaked out by Dan's stare?

The thought made Dan's eyes slowly shift away from Phil's pale skin. He ended up crawling out from under his blanket and finding his way into his kitchen where he had a bowl of cereal, rubbing at his eyes frequently. Since Phil undoubtedly needed his rest and was still sleeping soundly, Dan decided to just let Phil get up by himself.

Dan made his way to the shower, where he spent at least fifteen minutes on the floor of the tub, letting the hot water hit his curled up frame. It soothed the muscles in his body, acting like a balm to his overactive thoughts. All of which were about the man laid on his couch and the way his shoulders sagged with pain, the curl of his smile, and the starbursts in his eyes.

Dan didn't understand how there was someone out there who could give up a man like Phil, let alone cheat on him.

When he emerged from the bathroom, steam curling from the doorframe and his curls towel-dried on his head, Phil had switched positions. Instead of laying on his side like he had been all night, Phil was on his back, head turned to the junction connecting the armrest to the back of the couch. His mouth was parted and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, likely from a dream he was currently experiencing.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good sleeping, Dan thought, his feet pulling him closer on instinct until Dan was sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the sofa and the blanket he had been using all night curled around his body.

He felt uncomfortable continuing to stare at Phil with the innate knowledge of his own personal attraction to the man and knowing how much Phil was falling apart with this breakup, so Dan pulled his ultimate social crutch out—his phone. With pink-dusted cheeks, Dan pulled up the first app his fingers found, and soon enough, he was forgetting all about last night and this morning.

When Phil stirred however, Dan's attention immediately snapped to him.

Phil was now in a similar position that he had been all night, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely.

"Phil?" Dan asked, putting his phone onto the coffee table and scooting closer to where Phil's head was. Phil just looked up at him, eyes sleepy and expression tired.

"Dan?"

"Yeah. Do you remember last night?"

"Hmm? No, I don't think so…" Phil paused, his eyes falling to the duvet he was snuggled in, cold realization settling into his posture, "I got drunk, didn't I? My head certainly feels like I did" He asked in a small voice. Dan gave him a pained smile that he meant to be reassuring, but Dan had a feeling that it wasn't in the slightest. He picked up Phil's glasses from where he had discarded them when they had first gotten home and gave them to Phil, their hands brushing more than Dan was certain was necessary.

"You were absolutely smashed before you even showed up at my bar."

Phil groaned and covered his face with his hands, sighing so deeply that it sounded pained.

"God, I'm sorry."

"Phil…"

"I promised myself I was going to stop drinking my feelings away. Look how well that turned out," Phil said bitterly, frowning heavily. His eyes were wet, looking ready to cry. Dan wrapped his fingers around Phil's wrist to get his attention, not even thinking about the action.

"Phil, you've been through a lot, and you aren't dealing with it very healthily, but acknowledging that is the first five steps to moving past that."

Phil didn't look convinced, his gaze sliding back down to the blanket, shame and remorse in his eyes. Dan squeezed his wrist, willing Phil to still pay attention to him.

"You seemed to be doing really good with managing the want to get drunk for a while there, and I know that relapses are a very possible thing, but I think you should just do what you were doing before, you know? You seemed really happy when I saw you, and even texting you were so much more joyful than when we had first met. You were doing really good, and I think you can keep doing really good."

At this point, Phil's attention was back on the blanket.

"That...that's harder than it sounds. What I was doing...I don't know if I can keep doing it."

"God, Phil, were you on drugs?"

"No!" Phil gasped, looking up in shock.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dan, I'm sure. I just...I don't really know how to explain it, but you know how sometimes you find something new, and it like, fills a hole in you that you didn't know existed? It's like that, but it just...scares me I guess. Because I don't know how to handle it? I didn't even know that I needed it until I had it but now I try to picture myself without this new...thing and I can't. And I don't know what to do, because I'm not supposed to feel like this."

"Who says you're not supposed to feel the way you do, Phil? You can't pick and choose what you feel—the heart doesn't work like that. It's like how you're hurting because of James and what he did to you; you don't have a choice in the matter of the pain or joy you feel, and you can't selectively mute the negative without obstructing the positive." There were tears in Phil's eyes, a few fat drops slipping out and sliding down his cheeks. "And," Dan said, wiping away Phil's tears with his hand, "I think that if that thing—whatever it is—makes you happy, it's worth a little bit of terror. You don't deserve to make yourself suffer more just by denying your feelings, Phil."

Phil was full on crying now, and the tears were flowing faster than Dan could wipe them away. But before he could disentangle himself just long enough to conjure up a box of tissues, Phil tugged Dan forward into a hug. Phil broke down, sobbing into Dan's shoulder, blubbering about James and how lost he felt and the guilt he had. It all just...tumbled out, and Dan wasn't sure if Phil even meant to be spilling everything, but Dan had a feeling that these were tears and emotions that Phil had never let himself have.

Sure, Phil had mourned the future he had lost, but had he let himself mourn the pain he was feeling? All of the trust he had lost as a result? All of the misery he had endured? Dan didn't think so, and the thought broke him.

And as Phil cried into his shirt, Dan just held him tighter.

~~~~~

Hours later, Dan was having more fun than he had had in the company of another person in a long time.

He and Phil were nestled together on the couch with blankets piled on top of them, cocooning them together. Phil had showered and called out sick for work for the day after managing breakfast and, at Dan's insistence, two big glasses of water to make up for the alcohol-induced dehydration he had endured last night. And as it was, neither of them wanted Phil to get back into his dirty clothes, so Dan let Phil borrow some of his and told Phil that he'd wash them. And when Phil had first emerged from the bathroom in one of Dan's soft jumpers, a pair of joggers clinging to his hips, Dan had cursed under his breath, instantly knowing that letting such an attractive man wear his clothes was a mistake.

Thankfully, Phil hadn't seemed to notice.

What either of them had also seemed to have failed to notice, was that Phil wasn't technically supposed to be in Dan's flat.

At first, it was 'oh, your clothes are still in the washer'.

Then it turned into 'well we might as well have lunch while you're here'.

Then it was 'hey Dan you have Mario Kart? I didn't know that—can we play?'

And now, well, now it evolved into zero space between them, Dan's heart seizing in his chest as they watched Wonder Woman together on Dan's couch.

Phil inhaled deeply as on the screen Diana ignored Steve's protests and ran across the battlefield, her shield in front of her.

"Oh my god," Phil breathed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes wide. Dan, for his part, was happy that he had seen the movie already, because with Phil pressed to his side in his own clothes, he wasn't paying it any attention. The rest of the movie passed in a similar manner, and soon enough the credits were rolling and Phil was crying from the ending, still clutching onto Dan's arm where he had latched onto when the tension was running through the roof earlier.

"That was horrible! They deserved to stay together! How are you not crying?" Phil cried, looking at the credits still as if they would fade into a "jk lol that's not the real ending".

"Phil, I can't really change the ending of a movie. Also, maybe because I've seen it before?" Dan replied helplessly. He didn't really cry after movies. Phil just sniffled and wiped away the few tears that had leaked out of his eyes.

"I need a pick-me-up after that. Did you want to watch another movie? Though I have to put in a request for something that won't make me cry like a baby."

Dan looked at the clock in the lounge and frowned, disappointment settling heavily in his ribcage.

"We don't have time for another movie since I'm going to have to get to work soon," Dan started, and Phil's face fell, but Dan nearly tripped over himself trying to fix it, "but I can do pizza? That's enough of a pick-me-up, right?"

"Are you sure? I can leave, god, I didn't even ask if I could stay-"

"Phil," Dan interrupted, knowing where that train of thought was going and needing to stop it immediately, "you're fine, I promise. Today's been really fun and I'm glad you're here. C'mon, let's order pizza."

Dan watched as the frown that had been forming on Phil's face flipped instantly into a blinding smile, and he'd have been lying if he didn't say that the sight made the edges of everything glow as well.

And even hours later, when Dan was at the bar serving drinks to people, he couldn't stop the smile on his face—not when he was riding on the high of spending the day with Phil combined with Phil currently blowing up his phone with "I miss you" texts.

~~~~~

The golden feeling didn't even last a week this time though.

Things had been going insanely well. Dan and Phil had spent the next day—Dan's day off—together. Phil had called out of work once again, insisting that he made more than enough money and that he didn't need to be worrying about missing another day's pay when Dan protested. This day was one spent out and about, the two of them acting like absolute idiots together, window shopping and having too many snacks from food vendors.

Everything was perfect, and Phil was looking at Dan like that, and Dan wanted the whole day to be the rest of his life, because fuck they were so happy.

But the following night, when Phil stomped into Dan's bar at two in the morning, anger and pain in his eyes, Dan knew that the Phil he had been spending all of his time with recently was gone.

Phil asked for a drink, giving Dan less than a glance. He watched in horror as Phil threw back the shot without pause and asked for something stronger.

And goddamnit, but Dan wasn't working alone tonight, and before he could decide if it was better to confront Phil here and now or tomorrow after letting him get piss-drunk, his coworker had already given Phil what he was asking for and moved onto the next person.

The last two hours of Dan's shift ended up passing in a similar manner. Dan filled some of Phil's orders, trying to talk to Phil about how Dan was worried for him, but Phil would just ignore it. Other times, Dan was legitimately busy with other customers, and his coworker gave Phil the hard liquor he wanted without a second thought.

When Dan was clocking out at four-AM Phil was still there, holding out his glass as he waited for Dan's coworker—who was still working the bar—to fill it. When he saw Dan, he grunted and turned to Dan instead.

"'ere, Dan, 'ou can get th's," Phil slurred, drunk. Dan, who had been quickly put into a terrible mood at Phil drowning himself in alcohol, frowned and the glass out of Phil's hand. He left it on the bar counter with enough money to pay for Phil's tab. He grabbed Phil's arm by the elbow and hauled him up to his feet wordlessly, dragging Phil forcefully out of the bar. By the time they hit the cool night air Phil had recovered enough to protest.

"Dan, wha' the hell are 'ou doing?"

"My shift is done, Phil," he replied evenly, "You're drunk, once again trying to bloody kill yourself with alcohol, and I'm not letting you go home by yourself. That leaves you one option, and that's to come home with me."

It took Phil a few stumbled steps to make sense of what Dan said, but when he did he tried to pull back.

"Wha'? No, 'm going back," he mumbled, but Dan just tightened his grip and walked faster, Phil nearly tripping behind him.

"No, you're not. You're wasted and I'm not going to let you give yourself alcohol poisoning."

They were in Dan's car and speeding away soon enough, Dan's grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles a blotchy white.

Once they were inside Dan's flat he gave Phil his duvet and a pillow, and showed him the couch. When Phil tried to protest Dan gave him a firm "get to sleep, we'll talk in the morning" before he went into his bedroom and changed into something comfortable enough to sleep in. When he got back into the lounge with a blanket for himself, Phil was already unconscious. Dan sighed and started arranging himself on the floor, tired and angry and hurt. He fell asleep quickly, but when he woke up, his exhaustion didn't seem to have been satisfied.

He showered and cleaned up where he had slept by the time Phil started stirring. Dan took another sip from his coffee as Phil stretched, audibly wincing with a hiss of his teeth—it was probably his hangover, and judging at how Phil didn't have a sip of water last night, it was most likely remarkably worse than the last one. After a groan Phil propped himself up, blinking sleepily. His eyes landed on Dan sitting at his kitchen table, coffee in hand. Phil swallowed hard, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Morning."

"Was I as drunk as last time?" Phil asked after a moment, biting his lip.

"No," Dan replied quietly, "but nearly."

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Dan. You shouldn't have to cart me around and take care of a drunk me. I-"

"Phil, I'm your friend. I don't care if I have to support you and help you when you need it. But I'm not going to just sit by and give you alcohol whenever you want and take you home afterwards. Our friendship is worth more than that." The words made a defensive look cloud Phil's face.

"Didn't you just say that you would support me?"

"Yeah, and I also just said that I wouldn't enable your shitty choices, Phil." Dan bit back, properly angry all over again. Phil's face darkened, the former softness leftover from sleep gone.

"That's great support, Dan, thanks. Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of been trying to handle things, alright? I have a lot of shit to work through. Sorry if a little compassion is too much for you to handle."

"You call drinking until you can't remember the day before handling things?" Dan asked incredulously.

"You call whatever this is supporting me?" Phil cried, his voice raised.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you become an alcoholic, Phil!" Dan exploded. "And I'm certainly not going to help you become one! So, if you want to keep getting drunk off your ass because you're 'working through things' then you can go to some other bar because I'm not going to let you use me to self destruct! Do you know how many regulars I have at that bar? People with sadder stories than yours, who can't get by without at least a pint in their system at all times. People who are going to be dead by forty from liver failure. Do you want to become one of them?"

Phil was quiet for a moment.

"Do you really think that I'm using you to get drunk? What about two days ago, or the one before that? What about all of the texts?" Phil asked quietly. "You're my friend. You always come first over the alcohol."

"It doesn't always feel like that," Dan said softly, but no less harshly. He wasn't burning with anger anymore. He was tired. He just wanted to cuddle with Phil on the couch, but this was something that they needed to work through.

They both fell silent, unsure what to do, what to say, how to act. Phil sighed. 

"It's never an intention. Sometimes it just...hurts to the point where all I can think about is a way to numb it. Sometimes I'm okay, like when we were out the other day together And other times I'm in my flat and I just get so overwhelmed that it hurts too much. I can't deal with it." Phil said, near whispering. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "All I ever wanted was to be enough for him." Phil breathed, the tears spilling out of his eyes, crashing through the barrier that had been erected between them since the first drop of alcohol had passed Phil's lips last night.

Dan was up and out of his chair faster than he realized, nearly knocking over his coffee. They both pulled each other into the embrace, Phil gasping into Dan's neck through his sobs.

"It's okay, Phil, it's okay," Dan mumbled, clutching at Phil just as much as the other man did him. Dan desperately petted at Phil's hair and rubbed his back to comfort him. He ignored all of the emotions in his chest tangling together and simultaneously trying to force themselves out. Phil was more important right now.

"You're more than enough."

~~~~~

Phil ended up staying for the rest of the day like last time, but everything was just on this side of different. Both of their emotions were swirled together in a jumbled, confusing, unpredictable mess, which made for a few interesting interactions. There were several points in the day where one or both of them started crying due to one thing or another, and even more instances where one of them would snap at the other, sometimes sparking a quick spat before the inevitable rushed and sincere apologies.

Even more importantly, they patched all of the threatening cracks in their friendship and came to a greater understanding of each other. Their relationship was now one more attune to each other and less toxic for the both of them.

Dan pulled the blanket up higher over his body. It was late and the two of them had ended up on the couch, watching an absurd amount of Marvel together. Dan was sure that the blanket had essentially materialized, for he had no memory of Phil getting up to retrieve it and he was certain he hadn't. He wasn't complaining, however. The blanket quite literally softened the atmosphere around them and gave him an excuse to cuddle up to Phil's side.

Hours later, they were in the same spot. Phil however was out cold, his body half-slumped over Dan's, head on his shoulder. Dan didn't mind in the slightest. Phil was an incredibly cute sleeper, and being able to properly hold this wonder of a man was more than enough compensation for being his pillow.

On the screen, the characters were in the middle of the climax of the movie, fighting for their lives. Normally Dan got into scenes like these, but he was too wrapped up in soaking in all of the time with Phil he could get.

Dan knew that when the movie ended he'd have to wake Phil—he had work tomorrow and needed to get back home—but that was something he'd think about when the time came.

Dan watched Phil's eyelids flutter as well as his nose twitch, both by-products of whatever dream Phil was having at the moment. Dan smiled at it, an ache in his chest flaring at the sight of Phil so content.  God, he was so whipped for this man.

Dan's hand settled in Phil's soft hair, running his fingers through it as he twisted his body to let Phil lay more comfortably against him. Dan settled back into the couch, letting the warm feeling in his bones seep through his whole body as he cherished the last few minutes he had with Phil before he would leave him.

~~~~~

It became a habit.

Whenever Phil would wind up at Dan's bar he would go home with Dan and stay the night.  Even as Phil's self-destructive drinking habit started to shrink, and the need for Dan to make sure he lasted the night no longer became relevant, he still found himself waking up at Dan's the next morning.

A different product of their unspoken arrangement was that Dan's flat slowly became infused with Phil himself. He had a drawer in Dan's bureau, a toothbrush in the bathroom, and a permanent claim on the guest bed. But more than that, there were little reminders of Phil everywhere. A discarded shirt whose original owner had been long forgotten, a knick knack that Dan had no recollection of buying, an extra box of Dan's cereal for the mornings because Phil liked to snack on it and Dan was tired of having to run to Tesco's because he wanted breakfast. It was Phil having a key to the flat, and knowing how Dan made his coffee, and his lanky, relaxed form a regular and comforting presence in Dan's home.

It was so gradual that Dan didn't really notice the change until it had already happened. And by then, there was nothing he could do; Phil was properly rooted into his life and Dan was absolutely powerless to try and remove him.   

Of course, Phil was over more than regularly without the assistance of alcohol. They grew awfully close with the sudden co-dependence and the company they provided each other. Dan didn't even want to know how many hours they spent together, nor the insurmountable number of texts they exchanged while they were apart.

Dan had even been around Phil's, but every single time they would gravitate back to Dan's. Phil said it had something to do with the "feel" of Dan's flat, something about energy, but Dan didn't really believe him. Judging from the lack of personalized decor Dan had seen, Phil didn't really spend that much time in his apartment. And knowing what he did, Dan easily knew why Phil tended to avoid his own flat.

Dan just wondered why Phil hadn't changed any of it yet for a fresh start. It had been quite a bit since the breakup, and all of the lingering memories had to hurt.

There was also something growing between them. Dan could see it in the unnecessary brushes of their fingers and the prolonged touch of a hand on the other's shoulder. How much they sought after each other clear as day in their glances and smiles as well. Dan tried to keep his hopes from rising too high out of the ashes—Phil was dealing with a harsh breakup, and there was no telling that Phil would even want to act on feelings (that might not even be there, Dan's anxiety reminded him)—but it was like fighting an uphill battle.  

Dan was certain that he would be fine just as friends, but the guy had all but moved in and in the process showed them both what a domestic life together would be like, and it was so good it hurt.

Almost three months after Phil had last gotten properly smashed and broken down, he wandered into Dan's bar at around midnight. Dan hadn't seen him for a while, as odd as it was for them, and Phil coming around to Dan while he was at work had become even more rare.

He couldn't help but notice how good Phil looked with his hair quiffed, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, and his eyes sparkling. Dan was also extremely aware of how shit he himself looked.

"Hey," Phil said as he slid onto one of the barstools.

"Hi, stranger."

Phil grimaced. "I know, I'm sorry. But, the good news is that my department's work for the project is finished, so I should totally be working normal hours now."

"You're not going to leave me all by myself anymore?" Dan asked. He didn't even try to mask his excitement. It was lonely without Phil there to fill the cracks anymore.

"No, now you'll wish you changed the locks on the doors while you had the chance."

Dan laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded a little nervous and a little unsure. There was something glinting in Phil's eyes that Dan hadn't seen before.

"Can I get a drink for you? I doubt you came all this way to tell me that you were done being exploited by your company when you could have said as much through a text."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you." Phil said, leaning on the bar.

"Ha," Dan responded, copying Phil's movements, "don't make me laugh."  

Phil leaned in further, close enough that Dan could smell the mint on Phil's breath and see the swirl of color in his eyes. The sudden closeness forced the air in Dan's lungs to freeze, and he was sure he was staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil's eyebrow crinkled a little, and Dan knew it was because of Dan's self-deprecating comment.

"Would you like me to prove it?" Phil murmured, his voice an octave lower than before and fuck that made a shiver run down Dan's spine and his stomach drop to his toes. If he wasn't supporting himself on the bar Dan was sure his knees would have given out under his weight because jesus christ his legs felt downright weak.

Dan opened his mouth to try and respond, but the words didn't surface right away. He managed some garbled response, but what he even said he couldn't recall. Was it even English? He didn't know, but it made Phil laugh and lean back in the process, and with it their atmosphere from earlier returned—from wherever the hell it had gone, that is.

"I'll just have a beer, if that's alright. Nothing too fancy, please." Phil put enough money on the bar to cover his drink and Dan took it with a moderately shaky hand. He poured Phil one of the good tasting ones that people loved with his mind racing the whole while. Dan didn't know what had gotten into Phil, but he wasn't certain that he could survive a whole night of it, that was for sure.

Dan tried to pull himself together before turning back to Phil. He handed Phil the beer, determined to try to steer them both into a safer dynamic, but Phil reached forward and wrapped his hand around Dan's and the glass in the process. He held them both there for a heartbeat before taking the glass with his other hand, looking Dan in the eyes the whole time with an innocent smirk tugging at his lips.

I'm so fucked.  

Phil took a sip of his beer, eyes shining, the whole interaction taking no longer than a few seconds, yet leaving Dan near floundering.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Dan breathed, willing himself to get it together, damnit, "no problem."

~~~~~

Dan quickly came to the conclusion that Phil Lester was trying to kill him.

For one, the flirting had only increased.

Dramatically.

Dan lost count of how many innuendos Phil made, how many times he could feel or even watch Phil's gaze drag over him, all of the times that a touch lingered longer than strictly necessary.

It was confusing. Distracting. Completely...intoxicating.

He absolutely couldn't get enough.

Early on he gave up on trying to fight whatever game Phil was getting at and started playing along. He'd drop his own flirty lines and bend down a little further than necessary to reach the alcohol under the bar, fully aware of what it was doing to Phil.

They both knew they were in dangerous territory.

Did either of them care?

Dan at least didn't think so.

As people started to file out of the bar—Al herding them to the doors—Dan was incredibly aware of Phil still sitting on his stool, his chin resting in his hand so he could watch Dan as he cleaned up. They didn't talk, but it didn't feel like they needed to. The air around them was charged enough as it was; there was no reason to add fuel to the fire.

When Al was done he called his goodnight to Dan and Phil—who he knew by name at this point—and left.

Dan and Phil weren't alone in the bar for long. Or maybe they were, but Dan just wasn't paying attention to anything other than the presence of Phil.

They were outside before Dan even knew it.

He pocketed the key and turned around, all of his attention on how close Phil was and how the moonlight hit the pitch-black of his hair. For a minute they stood there, stuck by each other's gazes.

But then the spell was broken by Phil slipping his hand into Dan's and tugging him down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking lot that Dan always left his car in.

It was a miracle that Dan didn't suffer a stroke on that walk to his car, and it was even more of a blessing that he didn't crash because everything felt like such a fucking daze.

They'd never done anything like hold hands before, and Dan didn't know how to act, or what to say, or what the hell to even do.

He was completely powerless to whatever Phil had planned, and the shiver of excitement that kept running up Dan's spine made it clear that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Phil had been to Dan's flat so many times and so often that it was easier to count the times that he wasn't. He'd been there sober and piss-drunk and everywhere in between, and they all felt right. They all felt natural. This was no less right, but so much more unnatural. Here Phil was, the least drunk he'd ever been after leaving Dan's bar, standing in Dan's lounge and looking that fucking attractive, and gazing at Dan like he was that fucking attractive.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his hand lacing their fingers once again. Dan's mouth was dry and he felt overwhelmed, but he nodded. "How about this?" Phil questioned, his voice softening as he stepped into Dan's space, his spare hand finding its way to Dan's waist. The touch was hot, burning through the fabric of Dan's shirt and warming the skin underneath.

"Yeah."

Phil hummed in response and drifted closer until their faces were close, Phil's breath fanning out over Dan's cheeks.

"And if I kissed you, would that be okay?"

Would it?

That was a question that Dan felt like he knew the answer to, but now that it was being asked, he wasn't so sure.

On one hand, this felt like something that he had been waiting for ever since Phil had first walked into his bar. They had developed a healthy relationship over the months and months of knowing each other, and Dan loved having Phil as his best friend. However, as selfish as it was, he still craved something more. He wanted to know everything about Phil. He wanted to know what it felt like to sleep next to him, to kiss him, to wake up and see Phil right beside him, to spend their time together without worrying about if what they were doing was crossing a line or not. Dan wanted to support Phil and keep him standing when he needed it. He wanted to love him.

However, Dan had a nagging voice in the back of his head asking if this was actually right for them. Phil had been destroyed by his boyfriend cheating on him all those months ago, and he had made tons of progress, but Dan didn't want to be a rebound. He didn't want to be a fuck-buddy or a bit of worthless sex. He deserved better than any of that. He didn't deserve the heartbreak that would come with any of those options.

If this was going to happen between them, he wanted it to be real because these feelings in his chest were real.

Dan looked up, ready to push Phil gently away and whisper no, but he found that he couldn't because the look in Phil's blue eyes was the same one Dan saw in the mirror.

Dan didn't know if this was what was right for them. He didn't know what he should be doing, and he certainly didn't know if this would make or break them. But what he did know, what he was sure of, was that there was no more denying this thing between them; Phil wanted this just as much as he did.

"Yes."

Phil grinned before closing the distance between them and crowding Dan's space. Too many sensations were running through Dan's head for him to make sense of them all, but that didn't stop him from trying. He caught snippets of the feeling of Phil's lips, the heat of his body close to Dan's, the warmth of Phil's hand on Dan's hip, the texture of Phil's shirt under Dan's fingertips, and so many more.

He was incredibly sure however, that this was right.

All of the worries he had had about this thing between them were dissolving into bliss—how could he have ever doubted Phil when he was holding onto Dan like he was something precious?

Dan let his hands move from where they had been clutching at Phil's clothes to cup the sides of his face and pull him closer. That's all that Dan wanted right now—to be as close as they could.

The action brought a groan tumbling from Phil's mouth, the sound muffled from between their lips. Fuck, that was hot.

Phil's hands on his hips drifted a bit, the tips of his fingers pulling the fabric of Dan's work shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans and sliding underneath. It made Dan's mouth drop open a little, something that Phil took full advantage of. He coaxed Dan's mouth open the rest of the way and Dan let himself be utterly swept away at how good of a kisser Phil was.

"Come here," Phil murmured, pulling Dan backwards to the sofa. Dan just followed, his mouth seeking out Phil's.

Phil giggled at his antics and pushed Dan onto the couch. Dan let himself fall. Phil stood over him for a moment, just looking at Dan. The attention made Dan's heart race in a very good way, and he held his arms out, inviting Phil to join him. He readily went, their bodies slotting together in a delicious way. The weight of Phil on top of him was better than Dan could have imagined, and he let Phil steal his breath away with more kisses, their hands dancing across the skin of each other's sides.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Daniel," Phil whispered as he kissed down Dan's neck. He sucked a deep hickey into the skin there which made Dan moan and buck his hips. Dan felt Phil's smirk.

"I've been waiting for this for..I don't even know how long at this point. You're so sweet, and caring, and attractive that you make me question my vendetta against love." Phil rocked his hips against Dan's, their clothed cocks brushing together. It made Dan gasp and let his head fall back. Coincidentally, it also exposed his neck completely for Phil. A hand slipped into Dan's curls and tugged with enough force that Dan's head craned back all the way. At the same time Phil brought his mouth to Dan's pulse point and sucked.

Dan moaned, a loud, proper one that had Phil groaning in response and pushing their hips together again. Dan's eyelids fluttered as the stimulus crashed over him in waves, and all he could do was desperately rock his hips in time with Phil and clutch at his shirt like it was his lifeline.

"Dan," Phil gasped, sounding just as wrecked as Dan, "I need to know how far you want to take this. I'll stop if you want, but I just—fuck!—need you to tell me how much of you I can have."

They were both rutting against each other, panting and sweaty and needy. Dan shook his head, trying to breathe in enough oxygen to actually articulate the half-baked thoughts running around his skull.

"All of me," Dan moaned, the words tumbling out, "you can have all of me, please."

Phil's hands gave up their timidness at Dan's words and pushed his shirt up and over Dan's head. The rest of Phil's body slid down so he could kiss up and down Dan's chest, swirling his tongue around his nipples.

"Good."

~~~~~

In hindsight, Dan might have been right to worry about things going too fast.

The next morning Dan had woken up first, his body tangled with Phil's in bed. He had also been quite sore—a bit of knowledge that made flashes of Phil above him and thrusting deep surface whenever he blinked his eyelids.

Dan blushed a little as he thought about how much they had properly wrecked each other in Dan's bed last night.

When Phil had woken up however, all of Dan's hopes for a soft and loving morning were dashed away when Phil took one look at Dan in his arms and panicked.

It took a bit for Dan to properly calm Phil down, and when he did Phil scooted far away from him on the bed. It broke Dan's heart, but he was more concerned with how Phil was feeling to address his own emotions.

Phil ended up confessing that he wasn't sure if he was ready for a relationship yet, but he wanted one with Dan all the same. He cried when he told Dan how much he couldn't stand another heartbreak like the one he'd had with James, and Dan could only hold him while he let all of his fears out.

After a few tentative hugs and a long conversation of establishing what they both wanted and figuring out boundaries, they decided to try.

They took things ridiculously slow at first, and only attempted cuddling for the first few weeks. Eventually they branched into soft, loving kisses when Phil felt ready, and stayed content like that for a while. Dan let Phil lead them into more flirty territories, and it was Phil who first instigated their first make-out session as boyfriends. They had been dating for about six months before they had sex again, but this time they were both completely sober and it was more like making love then fucking.

Dan was more than happy to watch as Phil slowly got more and more comfortable with him in a romantic sense and showered Phil in as much love and care as he could.

Phil also gave up drinking as soon as they had started dating, which was something Dan was so proud of Phil for doing. Permanently sober Phil was Dan's favorite Phil, that was for sure.

And even if their start was a little rocky they found their stride, and now they'd been dating for close to two years. They had their own apartment, and  even with Dan's night shifts they found regular time to be together. Sometimes Phil would find his way to Dan's bar when he wasn't satisfied with their time together at dinner, and he would drink water or a soda and keep Dan company during his shift. Other times he would text Dan mercilessly no matter how many times Dan fondly told him that it was busy. Dan for his part would keep up with Phil while he was at the office, and had a bad habit of completely blowing up his phone when he was in an important meeting.

Neither or them would have it any other way.

Dan yawned and stripped himself of his work clothes in the dark. He had had to cover his shift for an extra hour because one of the other workers' car had broke down while they were on their way to relieve Dan, and he was dead on his feet. Dan flopped onto the bed and wrestled some of the sheets from Phil's sleeping grasp. He turned to his side and let his eyelids droop, but not before noticing Phil's arm snaking around his waist to pull him close. Dan smiled despite his exhaustion and snuggled close. Phil sighed in approval in his sleep and Dan giggled softly. He laced his fingers with Phil's and let his body relax into the mattress, content.

He really wouldn't have it any other way.

#phandombigbang #my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #fluff #angst #implied smut #implied/referenced cheating #minor past relationships #bartender!dan #au #tw minor cursing #there's a lot of fluff be warned #dan howell #phil lester #what a plot twist you were #waptyw

[realityfallsapart]

I think with my heart And love with my head Do you see the problem here? You rip me to shreds I think with my heart You fuck with my head

-It Follows by Waterparks

I decided to do a little penwork! Please reblog, do not repost

#mine #my art #allyssaTM #waterparks #awsten knight #otto wood #geoff wigington #music #it follows #double dare #art #pen and ink #lyrics #parx #parxboiz #realityfallsapart original #original art #do not repost

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 19

hope you enjoyed the fluff this is SAD

Tags for chapter: MAJOR angst, talk/mentions of depression/mental health issues, minor issues of self worth

Words for chapter: ~2.5 k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan ignored yet another buzz from the phone in his pocket. Like the past four this morning, this message would too be from Phil, and Dan just couldn't bring himself to look at them.

All of the texts boiled down to Phil trying to make up his absence to Dan, but Dan just wasn't in the mood to try and pretend to be anything but exhausted. His limbs were heavy and his heart was slowly numbing. Phil leaving was only part of the problem, but Dan just couldn't bring himself to shoulder it at the moment.

Phil was spending the next few days shadowing a retired but incredibly knowledgeable meteorologist. Dr. Mathers had worked with the weather station Phil was a part of for decades, and he had earned several awards for his work. He was more qualified in retirement than some of the meteorologists that were currently working in the bigger stations, and taking the time to learn from him was an opportunity that both Phil and the station couldn't pass up.

Normally, Dan would be just as excited and happy as Phil about something like this, but recently getting out of bed was an uphill struggle. He felt horrible about not being as outwardly supportive as he should have been, and he didn't know how to make it up to Phil. Even if he did, he wasn't so sure that he would be able to go through with anything, not with how much his mental health was crumbling in his hands.

It was the beginning of the second week in the new year. Jaime had left nearly two weeks ago on the 8AM train back to London on New Year's Day, and her departure had carved a deep chasm in Dan's soul. As angsty and emo as it sounded, he didn't have another way to describe how he felt. She had been going back and forth for what seemed like so long, and those two weeks that she had spent in Manchester had been almost solely devoted to just the two of them. Dan had been rendered nearly breathless with the realization of how much he had missed Jaime, and he had greedily drunk up every moment they spent together in the vain attempt at sedating an endless desire to be around her.

What he had failed to account for was how alone he felt now that she was gone; it was like he was missing his arms, or his legs. And it wasn't like he was entirely without her. They would text and Facetime, and he would skype her whenever they had the chance, but it was nothing like the real thing. Jaime wasn't meant to be simplified to just the pixels on his screen. In a way, her absence now hurt even more than her initial series of trips back and forth from Manchester to London.

Before Jaime's Christmas break, Dan had survived the separation by spending his spare time with Phil. Their blossoming relationship ended up flourishing because of it, and Dan was extremely grateful for how much they ended up strengthening the foundation that their relationship was built upon. These past two weeks have done nothing up test that foundation, however.

Phil had cancelled so many of their shared plans that Dan had only seen him twice in the past two weeks, and neither of those times were longer than half an hour stops at the coffee shop. Both of the two times that he and Dan had seen each other Phil had promised Dan that he would stay for at least an hour, but by the time twenty or thirty minutes were up his phone would ring and Phil would drop everything to answer it outside. After talking animatedly on the phone with a frown for ten to fifteen minutes Phil would reappear and shake his head. He'd chug down the rest of his coffee and walk out the door. "I'm really sorry, Dan, but I have to go. It's work." Phil was also only answering maybe half of the texts that Dan sent him, and he had acted horribly distant in the few and strained interactions the two had had.

Dan was as hurt as he was worried. Phil was shutting him out from something, and Dan wanted to be there for his boyfriend and smooth out the stressed creases in his forehead and surround him in a soothing hug. At the same time Dan was suffering from severe anxiety about the whole thing. He had never had the chance to talk to Phil about how he had been hurt from being shut out before, and now didn't seem like a good time.

He couldn't turn to Jaime because she was busy with the play, and he didn't want to spoil one of their few talks with his relationship problems. Good things to drown out the bad things was what he wanted right now, so talking to Jaime about this was out of the question. He couldn't lean on his boyfriend because Phil was not only dealing with something on his own, but currently all of their conversations were giving Dan skin-crawling anxiety with every terse word Phil gave him.

Dan didn't even have Mary.

She had been in the coffee shop once in the past three weeks, and it had been to tell Dan and Jaime that she wouldn't be around for a little. She needed a surgery to finally get some help for her bad knee, and she wouldn't be able to make the trip to the coffee shop for two months in her old age.

Part of Dan was happy to know why she had been acting strange a few weeks ago, but another part of him was sad and upset that he wasn't going to be seeing her for a while.

While Dan would never concern her with a problem of this magnitude, he would have killed to get even one morning with her. A little "Good morning, Daniel!" would have made his whole week, especially in the midst of all of this crap.

Dan unlocked the door to the coffee shop and flicked on the lights. He tossed his jacket into the break room and immediately and mechanically started to set up for the day.

He shovelled coffee grounds into one of the brew machines and slumped against the counter as he waited. His stomach grumbled a little as coffee started to permeate the air, but he didn't make a move to try and fix it. He hadn't eaten since his pitiful dinner of a slice of old pizza last night, and considering the fact that he didn't bring a lunch with him, it wouldn't be until he got home until he possibly would eat again.

Dan could just grab something from the case—they were allowed to—or even stop in one of the many shops up and down the street, but he didn't care if he didn't eat.

He didn't care about a lot right now.

Dan scrubbed at his face, exhausted in many more ways than just physical.

He had seen his therapist a few days ago, and she had warned him that he needed to try and prevent himself from falling further down this hole he was spiraling down, but Dan didn't really take her advice to heart. When he crawled out from this latest depressive episode he knew he would regret not listening to her, but right now he was empty and lonely, and that voice in the back of his head was too loud for him to ignore.

He didn't have his boyfriend. He didn't have his best friend. He didn't have Mary. He was all alone.

And it hurt. More than he could try and articulate, really.

~~~~~

Dan pushed the bag of crisps away from him, his minuscule appetite already gone. He wrapped the blanket around his body tighter and stared blankly at his television screen. One of the series he had been watching with Phil had uploaded a two hour season finale, but Dan wasn't absorbing a single second of what was being played. His stomach grumbled, but Dan only frowned and buried deeper into the blanket. He really didn't want food right now.

He didn't really want anything right now.

No, that was a lie.

He wanted someone. He didn't care if it was Jaime or Phil, or anyone else, but he needed some kind of human contact. Dan desperately wanted someone to help him pull himself out of his head space.

Dan slipped his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He had two unread texts from Phil that had accumulated since the last time that Dan had checked his phone a few hours ago. He ignored them for now and brought up the thread he and Jaime had.

> To: my maraschino cherry are u around?

It was close to an hour before Jaime responded. Even with her uncharacteristically late reply, Dan's heart still soared. He clicked on the new text.

> From: my maraschino cherry [multimedia message]

at a party rn. we did our first run of the whole set today! so we're celebrating lmao

anyways

did you need something? I can easily duck into a room, np danny

The picture attached was one of Jaime in what looked like someone's lounge. The whole thing was a little blurry, but Dan could easily see the sheer happiness on his best friend's face. Her arm was around an attractive blonde, their faces pressed together as they both widely and drunkenly looked into the camera.

Dan instantly felt guilty for bothering Jaime. She was having so much fun. There was no reason for him to not only ask her to momentarily leave the party to talk to him, but to also trouble her with the knowledge that he was rapidly slipping into a deep depressive episode. It would kill her mood and make her needlessly worry about him.

She deserved to be happy.

Dan quickly typed out his reply and sent it, backing out almost immediately.

> To: my maraschino cherry no dw! i just was wondering if u had time to talk lol. have fun! dont get TOO drunk ;)

Dan stared at his text chat with Phil. He read over the last two texts he had missed from his boyfriend, and bit his lip, trying to decide if he should bother Phil.

Phil hadn't directly seen what Dan's depressive episodes could come to. Jaime had been in the trenches with Dan, and even though she had never seen what they looked like behind locked doors and closed blinds until not too long ago, she had picked up his pieces after every one and was all too aware of the damage they did to Dan's mental and physical health. Phil knew the general gist of it from the few details Dan had given him, but there was no doubt that Phil would be in way over his head trying to handle Dan. Not to mention trying to deal with him in a depressive episode this strong.

Dan was also all too aware of how worried Phil would be over him, and Dan knew for a fact that no matter how far Phil pulled away from him, if Dan told Phil about this mounting problem Phil wouldn't be able to think straight until he could make sure Dan was okay with his own two eyes. It would put him off of his game for the whole week, and Dan didn't want to derail this important trip for Phil before it really began. This was an opportunity for Phil that Dan was determined not to ruin.

Frowning, Dan closed out of the messaging app. Almost instantly he reopened it again. His therapist had pointed out to him several times that he struggled with accepting and asking for help, and that he needed to let people into his life more if he wanted to get better. This was one of those instances, right? So shouldn't he talk to someone?

Dan drafted a message and deleted it. He tried again but only erased it as well. Dan groaned and nearly clicked the screen of his phone off out of frustration.

One more time…

Dan left this third attempt devoid of anything that would suggest that Dan was in trouble. In fact, it was very simple to what he had initially sent Jaime.

> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!) hey, do u think we could talk?

After sending it, Dan felt a bit better. Even if he never gathered the courage to admit to Phil that he was in a bad place and that it would only get worse, he was confident that talking to Phil would make his spirits soar. It wasn't a miracle cure, but it would soothe the worst of the mind-numbing loneliness and depression deep in his bones.

Except Dan watched as the hours ticked by and his phone remained quiet and dark. When Dan blinked back into reality it was nearing 2AM. His Netflix show had long since expired, and there wasn't as much as a twitter notification on his phone. Dan dragged himself to his bed even though he knew that it was doubtful that he would sleep tonight.

Meanwhile, something hard had settled in the furthest reaches of Dan's chest. It made breathing difficult and his brain take three times as long to process even the smallest things. It had admittedly been a while since he had been last acquainted with it, but it was familiar. Sickly comforting in the sense that it was something he was so used to. In a way, it was like coming home.

When it was time to get up and get ready for work, Dan got ready on complete impulse. He was too busy dissociating to even remember the walk there, and was mildly surprised when he found himself stocking the cash register on muscle memory alone.

That was one thing that was different with this depressive episode, it seemed. Ever since he had first started to fall into this predicament about a week ago, he had buried himself in work. He took extra shifts in the coffee shop and even sometimes stayed overtime. Coming from someone who normally shut down in every way in the deepest caverns of his depression, the behavior was horribly different from what he was used to. Maybe it was because this depressive episode was caused by something different.

Before, they had been caused by his longing for things he didn't have: a family, a lover, acceptance, someone (or a group of people) who loved him and he could love in return. After he was kicked out and he found Jaime, they slowly became fewer and farther in between as he and Jaime became inseparable. Even though they were still there, he could manage them.

Dan had never had a depressive episode triggered by an all-consuming, numbing sense of being utterly and completely alone before.

Something deep in his gut did he have the feeling that this one would not be his last.

#my fics #allyssaTM #angst #major angst #mental illness themes #tw: mentions of mental health #depression #chaptered #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 19 #idyts #dan howell #phil lester #au #phan #phanfiction #phanfic #tw: depression #i just wrote this #and im REALLY depressed #so sorry if it breaks your hearts

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 25

almost done my guys! the plot is back and there’s fluff too! enjoy!

Tags for chapter: v minor angst, fluff

Words for chapter: ~3 k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<-- Previous Chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan let his eyes travel across Phil's face. His gaze traced from the bow of Phil's lips to the slopes of his nose to the morning light fanning across Phil's cheekbones. Dan let his fingers leave the warmth of the duvet and brush away some of the black fringe that had fallen over Phil's face overnight.

Phil had been in Manchester all week for some time with Dan and to tie up some other loose ends that he would be leaving behind with a move to London. Last night had been the last one that Phil would be spending in Manchester for a while, and they had both wanted to spend the time together. Even regarding the fact that Phil had already signed the lease off his Manchester flat and didn't have a place to stay, it had been an easy decision for Phil to spend the night at Dan's. And after an already wonderful day and night together, Dan was more than happy to keep Phil in his grasp a little longer.

But he couldn't keep Phil forever.

Phil had a train to catch at about noon, and it was close to nine in the morning already. The train would take him to London, where he would be living from now on. The thought of saying goodbye to Phil without the assurance that he would be returning after a few days was daunting, and even though Dan wanted to be as supportive as possible, he just wanted to stay in bed with Phil forever.  

Who needed to work? They could both just lie here in their little bubble and forget the world.

Dan moved closer to Phil's still-sleeping form and tucked himself under Phil's chin. He closed his eyes once he was settled and let his body sink against Phil's. After a life of shutting people out and being shut out, Dan still reveled in how good it felt to be vulnerable in the presence and care of someone gentle and trustworthy.

Barely-there fingers running through his hair slowly pulled Dan away from his dreams. Groaning at the light, Dan just buried his face in Phil's naked chest. He felt Phil chuckle at his antics more than he heard it, and he certainly felt Phil's arms curl around Dan's body in order to hold him close.

"Morning," Phil said, his voice deep from sleep.

"G'morning," Dan slurred, rubbing his eyes fiercely with the bottom of his palms. A few moments passed, but their silence was easy and comfortable. Dan let himself drink up the physical contact, a nagging part of his brain reminding him that this was something that he wouldn't get whenever he wanted very soon.

He had just started to feel his eyelids get heavy once again when Phil stirred underneath him. Dan groaned as Phil moved and inevitably disturbed the gentle equilibrium they had achieved. Phil giggled, and his hands stroking over Dan's back stilled.

"You know," he whispered, "as much as I hate it, I'm going to need to get up soon, Dan. It's almost ten and my train is at noon."

This time Dan really groaned. Dan made sure that it was loud and drawn out enough to express the depths of his displeasure. The wounded sound made Phil's eye crinkle in fondness.

"I know, I know. You understand that I don't like it either, right? I want you around me just as much as you do. Leaving is going to suck, but we can get through this. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

Dan hummed to show he was listening. In reality, the words affected Dan more than he let on, and they made Dan's cheeks burn, but not in a bad way.

Phil pressed a kiss to Dan's temple. The action got Dan's attention, and he finally emerged from the comfort of Phil's chest to look up. Phil kissed him on the lips this time, and even though Phil was smiling too much to really make it a proper kiss, Dan was still satisfied and happy at the attention.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other in person before you even know it." Phil let one of his hands bury itself in Dan's curls. "And I'm not even gone yet, so you're not allowed to be sad yet."

"Oh, I'm not not allowed, huh?"

"That's right. Not allowed. You are legally required to be happy until noon today. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Dan laughed and pressed a kiss to Phil's jaw.

"I'll forgive you. When time did you want to leave for the station? I just need to know how much of my cuddle time is going to be missed."

"Mhm, sure," Phil muttered before shifting Dan's body over slightly, "Eleven fifteen? That should give me plenty of extra time to get to the station."

Dan's grin spread wide, and he tightened his hold around Phi's waist.

"Good. You can stay here a little bit longer then."

~~~~~

The ride to the station wasn't terribly long, and it is something that Dan is both thankful for and hates.

Part of him couldn't really stand sitting anxiously next to Phil—while pretending to be fine—any longer, and the other part of him froze at reality catching up with him as soon as the cab pulled up to the curb, waiting for the two of them to get out.

He helped Phil with his luggage, and he was a good boyfriend and paid for the cab before Phil could try and pull his wallet out of his pants.

Walking into the station wasn't that bad. Even watching Phil purchase his one-way ticket to London was manageable.

It wasn't until they were a few feet from the doors, a smattering of people having their tickets inspected by a worker before getting onto the train, that the full weight of what was happening hit Dan like a fucking truck.

His legs kind of stopped mid stride, and a soft, strangled sound escaped his throat. Phil turned, a confused look in his eye, but once he saw Dan's ashen face Phil's own expression softened into one of understanding. He closed the distance between them and dropped his bags at their feet. Phil wrapped Dan in a hug, and Dan collapsed against him. He hadn't realized how much he had needed this hug, but now that it was happening? Dan didn't think that he would be able to let go.

One of Phil's hands slowly rubbed Dan's back, and a sob escaped Dan before he could contain it. Phil only held him tighter.

"I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, I promise."

Dan's body tensed as the five minute warning sounded. They didn't have much time, and the sudden urgency enveloped the both of them.

"How can you be sure?" Dan cried, his white-knuckled fists clenched tight onto Phil's jacket.

"Because you're too important, Dan Howell." Phil responded, pulling away so that their faces were close. "You're too important to me. I'm willing to make this work. I am. I'll skype you as many times as you need me to, call you, text you, the whole package. And we'll visit each other as much as we can. I know that it's not the ideal set of circumstances, but trust me," Phil's hands found their way to the sides of Dan's head, pulling him in, "you're not going to lose me."

The kiss completely swooped Dan off of his feet, and the sheer intensity of it only had Dan kissing Phil back harder, eager for anything that Phil was willing to give. In some other distant life there was another warning for passengers to board the train, but it was so much farther away than Phil.

They broke suddenly, each of them gasping for their breath. Phil's eyes snapped to Dan's, and their celestial blue held Dan's gaze completely.

"This may not be the time or the place, but Daniel James Howell, you're never going to get rid of me because I'm staying. And I'm staying because I love you. I'm not going to give up on us."

Tears sprung up from the corners of Dan's eyes, and he threw himself back onto Phil. The kiss started off just like the last, but it melted into something gentler, softer, and full of emotion.

"I love you too," Dan muttered, "I love you too."

~~~~~

"Daniel!" Mary cried once she entered the shop. Dan had been scrolling on his phone while he waited for customers, but as soon as he heard her he snapped his head up and shoved his phone in his pocket.

"Hey, Mary," Dan said with a smile. He didn't even bother trying to hide his nonchalance because he was too happy to see the old woman. He was also sure that nothing would be able to hide the joy in his voice.

Mary had a cane now, and Dan was sure that it was because of her recovering from her surgery. It made her walk to the counter take more time, but that was okay because as soon as she got there Dan leaned over, and she wrapped him up in a great big hug.

"Oh, Daniel, I've missed you!"

"I missed you too." Dan laughed. "Now I'm certainly not complaining, but I thought you were still recovering from your surgery? And I don't want to hear about you coming all the way over here just to say hello if you weren't supposed to yet."

"Oh those doctors don't know a thing about me. I know when I'm ready to walk around, and I've been going bonkers sitting at home all day." Mary looked around. "Is Jaime working this morning? I was hoping to say hello to her too."

Something inside of Dan twisted at the sound of Jaime's name, and Dan struggled to maintain his composure.

"Ah, no, she's been spending a lot of time in London recently for the play. She hasn't been around a lot."

Dan had been sure that he had done an adequate job at maintaining the notion that everything was fine, but Mary instantly frowned and her lips pursed. Dan watched as she took a seat on one of the counter stools and set her purse down—she was obviously ready to stay as long as needed. When she was comfortable, she met Dan's gaze again.

"What's wrong, sugar? I've never seen you look so sad when we're talking about Jaime."

Dan felt himself deflate; there was no use keeping up the charade if she saw right through it. He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words to explain to her exactly what was wrong. There were so many layers to the situation, and Dan didn't know where to start. He couldn't exactly think of a way to simplify it down to a clear, concrete this is what's wrong because Dan wasn't too sure that there was one. Things were just….wrong.

"It's a really long story, Mary. Everything's all kind of tangled together right now, and I don't want to take up your time."

"Daniel, I wouldn't worry too much about me having anywhere else to be," she said, laughing a little before turning serious once again, "but why don't you let me worry about that, alright? Tell me what's wrong, love."

Dan hesitated once again, but then he relented. He started from the beginning, and as soon as he started talking, it all came rushing out. Everything about the situations with Jaime—and even Phil—dribbled out of his mouth in a rambling, incohesive mess. Mary didn't interrupt him once, and she gave Dan all of his attention. By the end, Dan felt ten pounds lighter, but he also felt raw and kind of fragile.

"Have you been talking to anyone else about this, or have you just been holding it all inside?"

"I've been talking to my therapist, Gina, about the most of it."

"Good, just you make sure that you start talking to her about all of it. It's not good to hold up the bad stuff inside our hearts because when you keep too much of it there too long it starts to make you sick."

Dan nodded.

"I know, I'm trying."

"I know you are, and I'm proud of you. And in my experience, what Jaime's doing is something that people do an awful lot when they're in over their heads, which doesn't make any sense at all because that's when we need each other the most. But sometimes people get scared or sad, or they're hurting, and they push others away. We're all guilty of it, and something tells me that right now, Jaime is scared or upset, and she's trying hard to deal with it all by herself. It's not healthy and she needs someone to help her see that, but you haven't done anything wrong, Daniel."

"So you think I should show her that she should let people in?"

"Maybe if she was here, but it's horribly difficult to do it at such a distance."

Dan put his head in his hands and groaned.

"So there's nothing I can do to fix this?"

"Now I didn't say that. All you can do is wait right now and give her the space she wants. But once she starts to let you back in, make her feel welcome, and don't hold this against her. Be patient and let her know that you love her, and make sure to tell her that she doesn't have to face things alone. The only thing someone can do in a situation like this is to be there for the other person and let them know that they aren't alone."

"I just wish that none of this ever happened."

"I know hun," Mary said, patting Dan's hand, "I know. Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, Mary."

"Have you told Phil about you thinking about moving in with him?"

"No." Dan grimaced.

"I think you should, baby. He'd be over the moon."

"But what if moving to London isn't the right decision?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if things between us don't work out? Or if he doesn't want to move in with me? Or if my job doesn't work out, or a million other things. What if moving to London is a bad thing? I mean, I'm fine here in Manchester. I have a flat and a job I can count on."

"Daniel, honey, every decision in your life is going to have a million possible bad things attached to it, but there are also a million good things too. What if this move brings you two closer? What if you find a place to work at that you love? Or what about how this move can ease your troubles over a long-distance relationship? You will never make a decision that doesn't have the potential to backfire, but you can't let that stop you. You can't let the fear of change stop you because then you'll stay put, and that's what I think you've been doing. You're not meant to be a barista for your whole life, Daniel, and you aren't meant to stay in this job and that flat just because it's stable. One of the things about life is that you've got to take risks sometimes."

"You think I should do it, then?"

"I think that you should think long and hard about it, and do what you're heart's telling you to do."

Dan nodded, his thoughts already a little distant.

He knew what his heart wanted. He didn't even really have to think about it, and he knew that Mary was right.

He just didn't know if he had the courage to do it.

~~~~~

Dan slid his luggage under his chair before sitting next to the window. He put his earbuds in and pulled up a playlist that he had made a few days earlier for this exact trip. As the beginning melodies of the first song started to play, Dan rested his head against the glass. Everyone had stopped boarding the train at this point, and how they all just had to take their seats.

He vaguely heard the loudspeaker announce that the train would start moving—he really could only make out the sound of someone speaking over the music playing in his ears, but not any words—and a few moments later Dan felt as the train lurched forward.

It was kind of surreal to watch the station glide past him, and soon they were out of the city and chugging along the landscape. Trees and hills kept flying by to the soundtrack that was playing in Dan's ears, but Dan was tired, so he let his eyelids fall closed.

He was on his way to London for a few days. It wasn't permanent—only a visit—but Dan was still more than happy. He and Phil had been apart for just over three weeks now, and the distance was killing them both.

Dan still hadn't talked to Phil about moving in yet, but he was more than planning on doing it. He just needed a when, and probably a few other possible jobs to make sure that Dan would be able to have one lined up by the time that he moved in. London was expensive, and Dan knew that if they were going to make this work then they both had to be working.

The future still had so many possible outcomes, both good and bad, and Dan still had so many ideas of what he wanted to do. None of them were completely settled, but they were no longer flimsy, transparent daydreams.

With a little bit more time, Dan was sure that something would come out of them.

He had a few hours to go before he arrived in London, and Dan slumped a little bit more in the chair, his eyes still shut. It was late, he had just gotten off of work, and he was tired.

In his pocket, Dan felt his phone buzz, and he smiled, knowing that it was Phil texting him to probably let Dan know how excited he was. Dan didn't take his phone out to respond, he was too close to sleep for that, but he knew what he would say. And he knew that Phil knew too.

Me too, Phil, he thought, I'm excited too.

#my fics #allyssaTM #dan howell #phil lester #phan #phanfiction #phanfic #au #ace!dan #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 25 #idyts #minor angst #fluff

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 17

it’s that time again you guys! and oof, is that foreshadowing I sense?? all will be revealed eventually! enjoy :D

Tags for chapter: angst, talk of therapy/mental illness, major fluff

Words for chapter: ~2.3

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

"You really talked for an hour? Wow," Jaime said. Dan watched as she immediately frowned. "Okay hang on, that sounded kind of sarcastic and I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised because you don't like to talk about your past, plus your first appointment didn't exactly go well. I'm really proud of you, Danny."

Dan groaned into his pillow at the nickname even though at this point, he'd let Jaime call him whatever she wanted. He just wanted to talk with her—it had been so lonely knowing she was in London.

"Congrats, you just ruined it." he mumbled.

When he pulled his face back up from his pillow Jaime was still smirking at him through the screen of his phone. It was late, but Jaime had just gotten back from a few days in London for the play and they were video calling to catch up with each other.

The live feed of Jaime's bedroom shifted and wobbled as she found a more comfortable position on the bed. When she settled her face was serious again.

"How do you feel about this though? Do you think that therapy is something that is right for you?"

Dan took a moment to think before answering.

"I want to see where it goes more than anything. I like Gina and I feel really comfortable with her which is good, but I think I just need to wait right now? Like, as much as I may want them, I know that there won't be instant results, and I know I'm probably going to keep struggling. After a little bit of work and time, if I haven't gotten anywhere then I might change my mind, but right now I'm ready to see this through."

"Wow Dan," Jaime said softy, a gentle smile on her face, "you've really grown up."

Dan could feel his rosey patch flare up, and he chuckled awkwardly. He didn't really know how to take that.

"I think we both know I have the maturity of a seven-year old, Jaime."

"No, Dan, not anymore." Jaime snorted and rolled her eyes, but her expression went right back to its softness of before. "You've really changed from that kid who turned up at my coffee shop looking like a drowned rat. You're you now."

Dan hummed to show he was listening, but at the same time he wasn't. He had absolutely no idea what the hell Jaime was getting at, especially whatever "you're you now" bloody meant. Who was he before? Was it a good change?

Why couldn't he see it too?

"How's the play coming?" Dan asked instead of the million other questions smashing around his skull. It was late and maybe deep talks weren't the best when they were both exhausted.

Jaime caught him up on all of the happenings of the play, and talked about the cute stagehand for a half an hour alone. She showed Dan a few promo posters that had her in them with joy all over her face.

Dan let the gentle, tired voice of his best friend slowly relax his body and mind as he listened. He felt the exhaustion of the day slowly creep over his limbs until he knew that it wouldn't be much longer until he either fell asleep on Jaime or they hung up.

"It feels like things are finally going good, you know?"

Dan smiled, his eyelids heavy and his head feeling a bit like mush but his heart spilling over with sleepy love and pride for this wonderful mess of a human being that was Jaime. God, did he miss her over these past few days.

"Yeah, I know."

~~~~~

"I'm so glad you could grace us with your presence." Dan called as Jaime tumbled through the door of the coffee shop the next morning looking tired but happy. She flipped him off but her smile didn't falter for a moment, so Dan knew perfectly well she wasn't that much of a grouch this morning.

"I'm glad to see that you're still a little shit."

"When you get famous I'm gonna find the nearest gossip site and tell them all about how you actually suck as a person." Dan retorted.

Jaime hummed as she tied her apron on and wrestled the coffee grounds out of Dan's hands.

"Give them here, I've left this place in your barbaric hands long enough."

"Love you too."

"A fanabla"

Dan wiped down the tables and filled the self-serve bar while Jaime started brewing the coffee. He helped her set the register, and they shared a vanilla latte while they browsed the music selection. By the time they were ready to open the windows were already fogged with condensation and Dan's nose was desensitized to the smell of fresh coffee.

Mary was in as usual, but this time when she saw Jaime she got terribly excited. Dan happily covered the first few people to wander through their small coffee shop while Jaime had most of her attention taken up by Mary who demanded to know everything that had happened in London. It was cute to see Jaime gushing about the past few days with an equally enthusiastic Mary. Plus he knew how much they had missed each other. 

"Daniel, how have you been? Have you told Jaime here to take that girl of her's out yet?" Mary asked, wrapping her much smaller hands around one of Dan's huge ones. Dan smiled.

"I told her last night on the phone to take her on a date the next time she was in London, but knowing Jaime it'll be three years until that happens." Mary cackled at Dan's remark and shot Jaime a look. "And I'm doing just fine. My day off was nice. I went back to therapy and then spent the rest of the day with Phil until he had to go to work."

"Speaking of Phil, how's he doing? I haven't seen him in a while. Well, I've seen him on the weather, haven't I?" Mary laughed.

"He's doing alright. His work at the weather station has picked up a bit, so hopefully he'll get a promotion soon. If he becomes a full-time employee then he can quit his job at Tesco."

"If they keep him as an intern any longer I'll certainly have to have a word with them."

Dan and Jaime both laughed, and after a moment of keeping her stern expression, Mary smiled gently.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to get going you two, I have a doctor's appointment to get to."

"I thought you went to the doctor's a few weeks ago?" Jaime said, frowning. Dan felt the corners of his mouth drop down now that Jaime mentioned the oddity. She was right—Mary had just been, was she okay?

"Oh, that's what happens when you get old, love, your whole body falls apart and all of your bills are medical ones." She patted Jaime's cheek and said goodbye to them one last time before turning on her heel and disappearing out the door.

By the time Mary left the morning rush started to trickle in, and Dan and Jaime took turns taking the orders. It was efficient and even kept the line short.

Dan was making a espresso for a stressed uni student when Jaime sided up next to him. She gently bumped her hip against his leg as a silent watch out I'm next to you as she reached for a new container of cream.

"That was weird."

"Hmm?"

"Mary. Was it just me? Or did you think the doctor's thing was suspicious too?" Jaime asked, following Dan as he brought the espresso back to the counter. Jaime started to mix the coffee for her customer as Dan ran up his customer.

"Do you think she's lying?" Dan asked as he gathered the necessary change. Jaime stopped for a count of five, her mouth in a tight line, eyebrows drawn together in thought. She mumbled something Italian under her breath before shaking her head and resuming what she was doing. 

"No, but it still seemed off to me."

Jaime handed her coffee off to her customer and collected the money as Dan took the order of the next person in line.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Projecting and all," Jaime continued, vaguely waving her hand to animate "and all".

"I don't know, Jaime, it didn't seem like the whole story, but I guess she was right with visiting the doctor more. I know my gran was always over at her doctor's for her bad kidneys. Maybe it really is just an old person thing?"

Jaime's face was set in that puzzled look once again.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Hey, Mary's fine. You know just as well as I do that she would tell us if something major was up. We're pretty much her grandkids."

Jaime nodded, a watery smile pulling itself onto her face. "You're right, there's no reason to worry, and I'm sure she's fine. I'm just being weird because she's, you know, like my mum and my nonna all in one."

Dan squeezed her hand with his spare one as he tried to fill his next order. Jaime was just as disowned as Dan himself was, but she still longed for that special relationship a kid had with their parents. Because of that, she had latched on to Mary in more of a maternal sense than Dan had. Dan on the other hand just wanted to be loved, and between Jaime, Phil, and Mary, he was content.

The rest of the morning rush lasted mostly in silence which was fine for Dan. As time passed Jaime bloomed further and further back into herself, and by the end of the hour he could barely even tell that she had been upset in the first place.

Now that customers were just a trickle, they were able to relax more, which was what Dan had been looking towards all day. Catching up with Jaime in a video call was good, but damnit he had missed her and in person conversations were always better without the distance and pixels creating a barrier between them.

Dan wrapped his arms around Jaime and pulled her in close, resting his head on top of hers. He smiled stupidly when she immediately hugged him back just as hard.

"I really hate how far away London is."

"Aww, did you miss me?" Jaime asked, even though they had already gone through this last night. Dan didn't bother quipping back something witty.

"Yeah, I did."

One of Jaime's hands was slowly rubbing the small of his back, and Dan had forgotten how soothing the motion was.

"I missed you a lot too. It felt weird not being able to walk a few blocks to annoy you whenever I wanted. And I mean, it was only for a week, but that's crazy for us."

Dan laughed.

"It really is. That was the longest we've been apart since we met, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, by like, five days for sure."

Their hug slowly and naturally dissolved, and when they were finally apart Dan was smiling just because everything felt right.

~~~~~

Dan let Jaime have the first lunch break, but like normal she didn't even bother to leave the counter. She perched herself on one of the stools and spread her lunch on the extra counter that was only used when there were massive lines.

They continued to chat, but when Jaime's phone ding!ed and she looked at it immediately, Dan's interest piqued. When a grin broke across her face after reading whatever notification she received his curiosity only grew.

"Is that that hot stagehand you told Mary and I all about?" Dan teased, resting his head on his hand. Jaime rolled her eyes, but Dan didn't miss the dusting of pink embarrassment that rose to her cheeks.

"No, it's Amazon telling me that your Christmas present is here."

"What is it? It's not that hideous jumper you sent me the link to is it? I mean Jaime even you said it was horrid."

"As much as that would be an amazing gag gift, it's not what I ended up choosing."

"Thank god."

Jaime tucked her phone back into her pocket.

"Speaking of Christmas, if you leave me to spend the whole thing with Phil I hope you know I'm going to kick you in the dick at best."

Dan involuntary cringed.

"Uh, yeah no I don't want any parts of that. But no, I was thinking that we could do something with the three of us? We can watch bad Christmas movies and make a gingerbread house and stuff if you want. I can even have it at my flat so you don't have to worry about having Phil at yours if you don't want."

"That would be really fun, I've been looking for more ways to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend."

"Jaime!"

"Fine, I'll control myself for the most part. But seriously, I'd like a Christmas with the three of us. I need to get to know my future brother-in-law better, and I already bought him a present so seeing him on Christmas would only be convenient."

Dan rolled his eyes, but judging from the large smile on Jaime's face her apathetic words weren't worth anything (like usual).

A trio wandered through the front doors, momentarily stealing away Dan's attention from Jaime. It was fine though—he was smiling all through making their coffees, thinking about how excited he was to spend Christmas with his two favorite people.

Jaime was right, Dan thought, things really are looking up.

#my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfiction #phanfic #au #i dare you to stay #idyts #i dare you to stay: chapter 17 #major fluff #minor angst #ace!dan #tw brief mentions of therapy/mental health #chaptered #dan howell #phil lester

[phan-of-the-pen]

Undisclosed Desires

My second @phandombigbang fic was unfortunately deleted (along with many of my other posts) so I am reposting this! I’m sorry for the inconvenience. This has been one of my favorite fics to write so far, ask me about it if you want to know more. Enjoy!

Thank you to @just-another-phanfic for making amazing art! You can find it here. Thank you also so so much for stepping in as my beta <3

Tags: major fluff, angst, extremely brief mentions of: self-harm, suicide, and abuse, implied smut, vague descriptions of tattoo needles/machines, tattoo artist!phil, HAPPY ENDING

Word Count: ~11.8k

Summary: Phil Lester is a tattoo artist who makes art come to life on his clients’ skin. One day, a new client walks in. A young man with stars and broken glass in his eyes and curly hair. Dan, the client, doesn’t really say much, Phil’s learned, but he soon becomes a regular at Phil’s tattoo parlor. Phil found the brunet cute, to say the least, but he really has no choice but to confront his feelings when Dan asks for a tattoo splaying across his hips.

(song!) (ao3!) <– you can find the complete list of flower meanings here (check out my other fics!)

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Phil, do I have any other appointments after this?” Travis asked over the buzz of the tattoo machine.

Phil hopped off the stool, where he had been watching Travis work, and opened the store appointment book. He sighed when he saw the state of it. The times were all messed up and half of the writing was nearly illegible, but granted, that’s what Phil got for letting Travis do the books this week.

"Is that Shelly?" he asked, squinting at the page to try and make out the words. It was the last name on the list that hadn't been scribbled out, but the time read for almost three hours from now.

"Yeah, I moved her up after Tony cancelled again."

"Then yeah, you've got nothing else for today. You think he's ever going to come back and get that shading finished?"

"Who knows? Maybe the guy likes walking around with a half-finished tattoo. Maybe he thinks it looks badass like that."

Phil snorted and closed the book just as he heard the woman—Shelly, as it seemed—suck in a deep breath as Travis continued to do the line work for her tattoo. Travis reminded her to breathe before continuing.

"Would you mind if I left a little early then? Jess' parents are coming over later and she wants me to be there when they arrive."

"Sure, I'll handle any walk-ins we have, as long as you bring breakfast tomorrow."

"Deal."

Phil grinned.

"Good luck, mate, we all know how much her parents just adore you."

Travis laughed and gave Phil a glance in between the lines he was inking before turning his attention back to his work.

"I think you're confusing 'adore' and 'hate-with-all-their-might' again, Phil."

~~~~~

Travis slipped his coat over his shoulders and gave his station another once-over.

"You sure you're okay with this? I don't want a shit ton of people to walk in like last time I asked to leave early and you end up staying until ass-crack o'clock because they were willing to pay triple and you can't say no."

"Don't worry, I'm only doing it for the doughnuts you promised me an hour ago, not a potential pay increase."

"Doughnuts? You said breakfast, mate. For all you know I could bring in a half eaten box of cereal and throw it at your head."

Phil put a hand on his chest and feigned the best horrified expression he could manage on the fly.

"Travis, you wound me."

He couldn't keep a straight face though and cracked a smile. Travis grinned back and pulled him into one of those bro hugs that, before meeting Travis, Phil had thought were just a joke.

"I'll see you tomorrow Phil. And do yourself a favor and just tell people to come in the next day alright? You're too nice sometimes."

"Yeah yeah yeah, go on, get out of here and try and survive a night with the in-laws." Phil said, shooing Travis towards the door. He stuck out a tongue when Travis gave him the finger and shut the door behind him, waving before turning around and walking back behind the counter. He sat back up on his stool and took out his phone. He didn't have anything scheduled for the rest of the day, and while walk-ins were always possible, he wasn't betting on there being many on a late Tuesday afternoon. He checked the clock as the game loaded. There were about two hours before closing time, but Phil could probably sneak out in one if there weren't any walk-ins—Travis wouldn't care if he slipped out a bit early.

Flappy Bird loaded and all of his attention flocked straight to the pixel animation on his screen. He grinned. An hour playing games wouldn't be so bad.

~~~~~

Phil checked his pockets, making sure he had his wallet and phone on him. It had been a little over an hour since Travis had left, and Phil was heavily looking forward to returning to his flat and curling up on the couch with some leftover pizza from last night.

He casted a glance over the rest of the store behind him. He had already wiped down the tattoo equipment and lavished his tattoo machine in care and attention because he had actually had the time for once. He had swept and taken out the trash, as well as all of the other little miscellaneous chores that were required to be done on a daily basis. Phil had even sat down and attempted to decode the appointment book, but decided against it almost instantly when he was once again faced with Travis' impossible scrawl.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, locking the back office before turning back around and walking back to the front, past the handful of tattoo booths. Phil was humming softly to himself and swinging his keys on his finger, a smile on his face. He adored his job with every fiber of his being, but there was just something inherently refreshing in leaving early, even if it was for not much more than an hour.

Phil yelped in surprise when he rounded a corner to find someone waiting in the lobby, his keys flying off of his finger and hitting the floor as his body froze and the keys' momentum kept them going.

The guy jumped and looked up from where he was leafing through one of the flash tattoo binders at the loud entrance Phil made, and Phil hastily tried to explain himself.

"I'm sorry! I didn't hear you come in and I was, uh, just taking care of some stuff in the back." Phil said, gesturing hopelessly behind him as if it would explain everything. The guy didn't follow Phil's hand and continued to not really pay Phil much mind, minus his snap to attention at the sound of Phil's keys hitting the ground.

"Can you tattoo me? Your website said you didn't close for another hour."

His voice was cautious and extremely soft, but also completely and utterly flat and monotone. Phil wanted to frown at it, not used to hearing someone sound so...sad? Defeated? He didn't know.

"Sure. Did you find a flash design that you liked? I'm afraid if you wanted anything custom I could probably only give you a consultation and draw something up for you due to time and all that."

"No," the guy said, closing the binder and putting it back onto the table, "I was just looking. I just want words, if that's okay?" He stood, but he continued to keep their gazes from meeting. His whole frame was hunched over and closed in on itself. Phil wondered why, but didn't dare press the issue—it wasn't his place.  

"Yeah, that's fine." Phil said, walking into the room more and sitting down across from him. Phil didn't miss how the guy took a step back and curled his shoulders into himself even more than they were at the action, but didn't say anything.

"What would you like? And where?"

The guy reached behind him and dug out a wadded up piece of paper and a pen, unwrinkling it as best as he could. He then leaned over and started to write something, his brow crinkled in concentration. He wrote slowly and steadily, like he was trying his hardest to make it neat. When he was done, he sat up and handed it to Phil, once again avoiding looking directly in his eyes. Phil looked over what he had written and nodded, recognizing the lyrics.

"Good song. Is this all?"

"Yeah. I want it in my handwriting though. And right here," he said, reaching up and pulling away his jumper collar, tapping his finger on his collarbone, "please."

Phil frowned. Tattoos in general were painful. How much pain someone experienced with a tattoo varied person to person, but a general rule was that tattoos that are on areas with less skin, muscle, and tissue between the tattoo needle and bone, hurt more. Collarbones and ribs were easy and painful examples.

Phil let his eyes scan over the exposed skin once more. This guy's collarbone was easily visible and therefore would probably hurt like hell.

"Are you sure? Collarbone tattoos hurt, especially when they're on ones as prominent as yours…" Phil said, trailing off and still concerned whether this guy knew what he was getting into. But he just nodded.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Okay, let me just trace over this to create a stencil and get all set up. I'll be right back." Phil held out his hand. "I'm Phil by the way," he said with a smile, hoping to help the guy relax. He didn't smile back, but his hand was warm and soft in Phil's.

"Dan."

Phil stood.

"Alright, give me a minute, Dan."

He made his quick exit and filed himself away where he and Travis kept the equipment to make a stencil. Phil worked quickly, but let his mind wander.

Dan was tall—though not as tall as Phil—and lanky, full of sharp edges and small curves. He had a nice face framed with a mass of curls coagulated on top of his head and pink lips. He was attractive, yes, but Phil didn't really go for kicked-puppy-looking men, as in his experience, it was only an act to hide their shitty personality.

Phil rolled his eyes at himself when he realized his train of thought and derailed it: he may not know Dan, but he didn't have to make any bad assumptions about the guy.

Minus Dan's inherent prettiness, he was obviously a ball of anxiety, or just extremely nervous. He was jumpy and had yet to look Phil in the eyes, not to mention return one of Phil's smiles. None of those things were necessarily bad per se, there was something just...missing from Dan. A spark, an emotion, Phil didn't know, but he got a distinct, instinctual feeling that something was just off about him. Maybe it was his flat voice or almost scared posture, or something else, but he just was.

Which was fine, Dan was allowed to be however he wanted, Phil was only there to tattoo him.

Phil shoved away the various materials he was working with along with the paper of Dan's handwriting as he stood, the newly made stencil in his hand. He walked back to the waiting room where he had left Dan.

"Hey Dan," Phil asked, mentally kicking himself for forgetting again, and not asking earlier, "do you have some kind of ID on you? I forgot to make sure you're legal." Phil continued, a little sheepish. "I know you're probably older than eighteen, I just have to make sure. Parlor rules and all."

This was not the first time that checking the ID of people had slipped his mind. Phil had had plenty of teens over the years try and weasel their way into getting a tattoo before they were eighteen, which was why he and Travis had ended up implementing the no-exceptions rule in the first place.

Phil breathed an internal sigh of relief as Dan slipped his wallet out of his pocket and wordlessly showed Phil his driver's license.

"Thank god you're legal," Phil said with a bit of a breathless laugh. "I didn't really want to kick another sixteen year old out this week."

Phil's eye caught on the date of Dan's birthday, and his eyes widened in surprise. 

"Hey, wait, you turned twenty-six today? Happy birthday!" Phil cried, his mouth splitting open wide, eyes snapping up to Dan's. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Dan was tearing them away, Phil's chest left feeling warm.

Phil wasn't one to miss detail. Mostly because it was his job—Phil's specialty in hyper-realistic tattoos making it essential to spot the things that people would normally skim over. So in that half a second, Phil was able to map out the gold flecks starbursting out from Dan's pupil and the incredible range of browns melting together and flowing apart. He saw the sadness like broken glass, but also the shreds of joy bursting up over Phil's words, and it all rushed over Phil like a tidal wave.

Jesus, he has really pretty eyes.

"Thanks," Dan said a little weakly, but with a faint tone of happiness at Phil's birthday well-wishes. The corner of his lip twitched into a half-happy-half-sad smile, and Phil had the impression that Dan hadn't had anyone wish him a good birthday yet today. The thought made Phil's heart clench.

He turned back around and beckoned Dan to follow him, leading Dan to Phil's bench and gesturing for Dan to take a seat as he gathered what he needed. Phil pulled on his gloves and opened the cabinet to his left, flopping back on his rolly chair. He settled on a round liner needle—since he wouldn't be doing any shading on Dan's tattoo—and pulled one out. He assembled it onto his tattoo machine after inspecting the needle for any defects, threading it through and fastening it with three rubber bands. Phil tested it twice to make sure that everything was settled before getting up. He returned with black ink in a disposable container, and a cup of water.

As it turned out, Dan had to remove his jumper due to the collar being too tight to rest off of his shoulder comfortably and safely without the possibility it would slide off and snap back into place in the middle of tattooing him. As it also turned out, Dan had very, very pretty lightly tanned skin that Phil appreciated from a strictly artistic viewpoint.

Dan's cheeks were dusted pink as soon as the jumper was off of him, and he hastily let his left arm cover his stomach, his balled up shirt in his grasp. Phil tried to give him his most reassuring look, but Dan once again wasn't quite looking at him.

Which was fine, Phil understood completely.

Phil applied the stencil after prepping the area and he okayed the placement with Dan. He dipped his gloved finger into the water and ghosted the few droplets onto the back of the stencil. Phil repeated the process as necessary, but he ended up chewing on the inside of his cheek all the same, quietly observing what nice collarbones Dan had and how the water glistened on his skin.

Once Phil peeled back the stencil and nodded—pleased at how the words transferred—he used a little hand mirror he had buried in one of his cabinets to make sure Dan was 100% okay with it. Dan just nodded before settling back against the tattoo bench, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for Phil to start.

Phil clicked on his tattoo machine and leaned over, bringing the needle to Dan's skin.

Most people, when they get tattooed, they react. They squirm, they tense up, they squeeze their eyes shut or bite down on something. They blast music, try and distract themselves by bringing a friend or chatting with their artist, anything.

Dan, however, didn't.

Phil, trying to give Dan a chance and get used to the ordeal of tattooing, had started as far away from his collarbone as the design allowed, even taking it slow at first and cheering Dan on silently, but now Phil was half-way through and Dan had yet to even twitch. His worries over how Dan would take it were seemingly unfounded because Phil was directly over Dan's impossibly exposed collarbone and all Dan was doing was laying back, breathing calmly and staring up at the ceiling like this was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

Phil was in shock.

He had been tattooing professionally for over ten years, had tattooed every place imaginable on a person's body, had seen thousands of customers, and no one had ever reacted so peacefully to a tattoo in such a painful area.

Normally, at this point, he would be leaning back, asking if the person he was working on needed a break, but Phil flicked his eyes over Dan's relaxed body and just kept going, finishing the 's' he was in the midst of and wiping the skin before moving onto the 'e'.

Sooner rather than later, Phil was shutting off his machine and setting it down, unhooking the needle and rubber bands holding it and throwing the needle away. He rifled through his cabinets to find his bandages and pulled them out.

Phil wiped down the skin one last time, looking up at Dan, who had torn his gaze away from the ceiling and was now watching Phil.

"Do you want a picture before I wrap it?"

"No, it's okay."

He bandaged the fresh tattoo, smiling as he surveyed the ink curling around Dan's collarbone.

"Well, I think it's great, and not just because I'm biased. Lyrics are always a good choice, but Radiohead ones? Almost as amazing as Muse-inspired tattoos." Phil rambled, scooting back on his chair when he was finished with the bandage, his fingers warm from the body heat radiating off of Dan.

Dan was smiling a little as he sat up, tossing a half-glance in Phil's direction, nodding to what Phil was saying. He tugged on his jumper, Phil's gaze following the slide of the material. However, Phil's mouth ran dry and his heart caught in his chest when he saw a fist-sized bruise span Dan's side, right where he had rushed to cover with his arm earlier.

Phil frantically looked up at Dan's face, trying to meet his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice strained and his gaze slipping back down to burn a hole in Dan's jumper where it continued to cover the bruise.

Maybe Phil shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he just should have silently acknowledged it, given Dan a bit of a supportive smile and reduced his tattoo price. Maybe that's what anyone else would have done. But Phil just honest to god couldn't.

Because suddenly, maybe the sadness in Dan's eyes made a little bit more sense and Phil wanted to be wrong, he wanted to be so wrong in his jump to conclusions, but there was a sick feeling in his gut that told him that he was right.

Dan froze in the midst of climbing off the tattoo bench. Phil watched as a dozen emotions that he couldn't name flew across Dan's face faster than he could pinpoint, and Dan squeezed his eyes shut.

For a heartbeat, everything was still.

Then Dan slid off the bench and opened his eyes, keeping them trailed on his feet.

"I'm fine."

Bullshit! a voice screamed in Phil's head, but then Dan was looking up at him with a pleading look on his face, and the words of protest at Dan's blatant lie died in his throat.

Phil's stomach churned. If he had glimpsed Dan's back, would he have seen more bruises spanning his skin? If he hadn't been so engrossed in his work, would he have caught another flash of black and blue?

He didn't know, but he wanted to because fuck, that shouldn't happen to anyone.

Yet, it wasn't his place.

But god did Phil wish it was.

"How much do I owe you?" Dan asked when Phil did nothing but stare just as pleadingly back, Dan's voice just as soft and heartbroken as when he had first spoken.

"Nothing," Phil blurted out.

Looking pained, Dan just shook his head.

"Please let me pay for this, Phil. I'm fine, I promise."

Phil kept his gaze on Dan, but Dan didn't relent, and Phil crumbled.

"Okay, let me ring you up then."

"Thank you," Dan breathed out, and followed Phil back to the register. Phil, a lance in his heart, just did as Dan pleaded and rung him up. Dan's tattoo was small and didn't require fine detail, so already the price wasn't that high, but that didn't stop him from taking a few pounds off because he could, damnit.

Dan just pulled his wallet back out and handed Phil the money, slipping in extra, but not without Phil catching him.

"Dan, please, you don't have to-"

"You're supposed to tip your tattoo artist, Phil. This tattoo means a lot to me, and you worked hard on it. Thank you." Dan said, finally, finally pushing his eyes up to meet Phil's, determination and genuine gratitude swirling through them.

"Dan…" he said, trailing off. His eyes caught on the edge of the bandage peeking out from Dan's collar, and he could easily see the ink pressed into his skin in his mind's eye. Before he could guess what they meant, and really, Phil still had no clue as to what those lines were worth to Dan, but he had a much better idea now. He could only hope they were true.

"Thank you," Dan said again, pushing the money into Phil's hand, his fingers soft and gentle where they skimmed Phil's skin. Dan smiled, and it was the realest smile Phil had seen from him.

Dan stepped back and gave a little wave before turning around and pushing past the door, the bell at the top chiming as he left.

Pained, Phil just watched him leave.

He looked down at the cash in his hand, and sighed, slipping it into his pocket even if it felt like blood money. He rubbed his temple and turned back around. He walked back to his station where he had just had Dan with him, heart heavy. Phil cleaned up, wiping down the bench and giving his tattoo machine one last once-over. He pulled his jacket up from where it had fallen off of the back of his chair and slipped it over his shoulders once more. Phil flicked off the lights and cursed himself when the backlight where the stencils were made still shined. He had forgotten to turn it off evidently after he had made Dan's stencil. Not necessarily abnormal, but deeply unwelcome when his soul hurt and he just wanted to curl up in bed and curse humanity for being so fucked up because Phil cared too much.

Phil groaned when he was reminded how his past self had just shoved everything out of the way and not taken the time to legitimately clean it up. But he was a man of habit, and if the parlor was a mess then he couldn't bring himself to leave.

So Phil gathered the trash and threw it away, put the stencil equipment back in its place, and bent down to pick up the pen he had used off of the ground. He scooped up a piece of paper that was also on the ground, and glanced at it before tossing it in the bin.

His heart throbbed again at Dan's handwriting staring back up at him, but Phil tried to push it away. He was well aware that he was nothing but a bystander in this situation, and even outside of that, he didn't even know the situation, he only had a guess. And no matter how he would look at it, he'd never know what was really happening unless Dan decided to tell him, a stranger, which would never happen.

So he had to hope.

He read the lyrics again and breathed out deeply, his heart hurting a little less. Dan would be fine.

Phil tossed the paper into the bin, the words fluttering down until Phil could no longer see the words Tonight I'll set you free scribbled in Dan's penmanship.

As Phil locked up and walked out of the tattoo parlor, he smiled. He hoped Dan was enjoying his first night of freedom.

~~~~~

Phil wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his arm and hunched back over, using the fine needle he was working with to add the finishing touches to the tattoo he was detailing.

A realistic watercolor-style flower was spanning the thigh of the girl on Phil's bench. This was her third and final appointment, and Phil was already fifteen minutes past the time he had originally allotted.

"Almost there," he muttered when her hand started to fidget again, "I'm just blending a bit to make it look a lot more natural."

She nodded and gripped the chair as Phil went back to work.

Twenty minutes later, she was done and thanking Phil over and over as she paid, positively beaming and saying that she absolutely loved it. Phil was just as excited as she was because moments like this were the reason why he picked his profession; he wanted to make people happy with themselves and their bodies. Every eye-crinkling smile at the end result was a rush for Phil.

"Phil! I need to you handle the walk-ins we have. Xander and I are in the middle of appointments, and you were supposed to be done ages ago, mate." Travis called from where he was hunched over his own customer. "The guy with the curly hair was here first, and I already got his stencil done before Stacy here walked in so go get him done before anyone else."

Phil called his agreement—as well as an apology—over his shoulder and quickly threw away the needles and empty cups of ink, and cleaned up everything from the last tattoo he had done. Phil wiped down the bench and picked up the stencil in the back where Travis had left it before he had to work on his scheduled appointment. It was a little constellation, about the width of Phil's palm. Because he had been asked to do the zodiac signs of people for years now, he easily recognized it as the outline of the Leo constellation.

"Sorry for the wait, we're a little backed up today. Can I have whoever is getting a Leo tattoo done?" Phil asked, walking into the waiting room. There were three people in the seats. Two were what looked like a mother and her teenage daughter that were paging through one of the flash tattoo books, and the last person was sitting with his back to Phil, looking at his phone. The guy looked up when Phil spoke, tucking his phone into his back pocket and standing. Phil recognized him immediately.

"Dan?" he asked, jaw dropping. "You're back!" he finished, a smile pulling up the corners on his mouth. Dan didn't really look him in the eyes, but he did return Phil's grin a little.

"Yeah, I'm back."

It had been over three weeks since Dan had first walked into Phil's tattoo parlor, and Phil honestly hadn't thought that he would see him again, but as Phil glanced over Dan's frame—everything about him just the same—Phil knew that he was more than glad that Dan had found his way back.

"So Dan," Phil asked in the middle of assembling his tattoo machine with a round liner needle, "last time you were here it was your birthday, and I know a thing or two about zodiac stuff since they're such a well-asked-for tattoo, so I know you wouldn't be a Leo. I'm still curious as to why you picked it, however. Can I ask why you're getting it done?"

Phil attached the rubber bands onto the machine and tested it, sparing Dan a glance. Dan shrugged a little, seemingly uncomfortable.

"Just...kinda because, I guess?"

Phil nodded, dropping the topic. He set his machine down and picked up the stencil with his gloved hands.

"Fair enough. I've had tattoos done 'just because' as well." Phil said, hoping to make Dan relax. Phil had forgotten how high-strung he was. "Can you take your jumper off? I need it out of the way again to do this where you want."

Dan nodded, and suddenly Phil could feel a tension between them. Or, more like a tension emanating from Phil, right in time with the breath that seemed to get stuck in his throat.

Last time Dan had his shirt off for a tattoo, Phil had seen bruises.

Would there be more?

Phil honest-to-god might cry if there were.

Dan pulled off his jumper and with every inch of skin that was revealed, Phil let his eyes roam, searching for evidence that this man was being mistreated.

There was nothing new, which made Phil almost sigh in relief.

The bruise that he had noticed last time had obviously had time to heal—it wasn't black and blue, but a muted yellow of sorts; it was clearly on the mend.

Phil also noticed the first tattoo he'd given Dan, the black letters standing out against Dan's skin.

"Your tattoo is healing really well. You've obviously been taking care of it." Phil said, carefully avoiding the elephant in the room. They both knew that Phil had looked, and they both knew what Phil was looking for. However, that didn't mean that they had to talk about it.

Last time Dan certainly hadn't wanted to.

"I love it," Dan said simply, and Phil knew his sentiments exactly.

Phil himself had many tattoos—what respectable tattoo artist didn't? The art on Phil's body collectively didn't have much in common. Some he'd given himself in his apprenticeship days, others he'd gotten done by other artists. And all of them, from the garden of plants spanning his side and back to the little Pikachu on his wrist, he'd taken care of religiously because having something that you love etched into your skin? Priceless. There's no other option but to take care of them in Phil's mind.

"Yeah," he said, checking over his equipment and the stencil on Dan's skin yet again in a nervous habit of his, "I know what you mean."

Neither of them said anything after that, but the silence wasn't by any means strained. If anything, as Phil started to etch the lines of ink into Dan's skin, the lack of conversation felt comfortable and normal—more like something that Phil had been doing with Dan for years.

This tattoo was even less complicated than the first one that Dan had had done, so they were done much sooner; a handful of lines and dots representing the stars were crawling over Dan's collarbone by the time Phil ended up pulling away.

"All done." Phil said, leaning back. Dan sat up, looking down at his collarbone even though he wouldn't be able to see the whole thing from his perspective.

"Thank you."

There was the beginning of a smile playing at Dan's lips, making Phil beam.

Ten minutes later Dan was walking right back out of the door of the tattoo parlor, the same little wave Dan gave Phil last time making another appearance. The gentle smile on Dan's lips was still there, the corners pulled up higher than Phil had ever seen them. The sight made Phil's chest grow warm.

~~~~~

Over the next four months, Dan became a common sight in the tattoo parlor. He was in at least once every two weeks, asking for something that generally fit the m.o. of all of his other tattoos: small, typically uncomplicated, and carrying hidden meanings that Phil only wished that he could know. And even though Phil was always the one to tattoo him, all of the other artists knew him at this point and greeted him whenever they saw him as if Dan was a friend. Every time it happened Phil saw the happiness blossom across his pretty face at being acknowledged.

Now, after months of steady tattooing, Dan had a respectable amount of his pale skin covered.

His third tattoo was no larger than the length of Phil's fingers and only a few inches wide. It was of a bear, it's paws dissolving into stars. The bear was near the crease of Dan's right elbow, on the inside of his forearm. Phil remembered the session vividly after seeing the faint, vertical, white scars on Dan's skin. When he had seen them he couldn't stop his fingers from running lightly down them, tracing the lines with the pads of his fingertips, frowning. That tattoo had taken two appointments to finish the shading.

The fourth tattoo Dan got from Phil was a loose line of leaves blowing in an invisible wind, spiraling up the span of Dan's left forearm. There were half a dozen in total, starting at Dan's wrist and stopping a few inches short of his elbow.

Dan's fifth tattoo was a hand-sized, linework-only heart on his upper right arm, cor cordium inscribed in between the veins. (Phil had googled the words after Dan had left before he had forgotten them. They meant "heart of hearts" in latin.)

His sixth tattoo was another phrase, the words have the courage to exist—once again in Dan's handwriting—on the inside of his wrist, partially overlapping a much larger and much deeper white scar that ran horizontal along his right forearm.

The seventh tattoo was of flowers and leaves. They were on Dan's right shoulder, spilling over a little to his collarbone and quite a bit onto his shoulder blade. Phil added in minuscule splashes of color to some of the petals after the standard black shading. (The end product was much better with the color in Phil's opinion.)

He and Dan ended up seeing each other regularly in those months, and Phil found himself looking forward to the next pleasant surprise of having Dan walk through his parlor door.

A few weeks after Dan's latest tattoo he wandered in much earlier in the day than ever before, almost as soon as they had opened.

"I want something different this time."

"Oh yeah? What kind of different?" Phil asked, pulling his sketchbook closer, flipping past drawings to get to a blank page; Dan had warned him when he walked through the door that this tattoo would need proper designing.

"I want claw marks on my ribs, but I don't want them to be bloody or whatever. I want the part of me that's 'clawed away' to reveal a galaxy underneath. Kind of like I have the universe inside of me, as stupid as that sounds."

Phil thought for a moment, his pencil hovering over the page for a count of ten before he started drawing. It took them several re-draws, but they ended up with something that not only looked badass but made Dan smile in approval.

Due to appointment scheduling, Phil didn't have any time to start right away, but Dan left with an appointment for exactly ten days away. Ten days that slugged by so much slower than Phil wanted.

The first appointment passed without trouble. The linework for the claw marks and some of the fundamental shading was done in their few hours together. The next few appointments happened just the same, though they all focused on the shading and building the forms of the claw marks and the beginnings of the galaxy.

With every appointment however, Phil found his feelings...mixing, to say the least. His eyes lingered on the bends and curves of Dan's body, and his own fingers might have  stayed just this side of too long on Dan's skin, their drag causing Dan to shiver just so slightly (something that gave Phil an irrational amount of pleasure, knowing that he could make Dan react like that).

He was also sure that he talked too much during the appointments. Since Dan wasn't that much of a talker, Phil went on and on about pretty much every scrap of thought that passed through his head. Dan surprisingly didn't tell him to shut up or make Phil feel as if he was annoying him; he listened attentively and would sometimes even softly chime in to offer his opinion on the recent rambling of Phil's. Every soft word of Dan's was a victory to Phil, and it only made Phil talk even more.

More appointments passed, and with each one the layers on Dan's tattoo were fitting seamlessly together, and altogether building the illusion of space flowing under Dan's skin. In the beginning Phil had entertained the idea of dragging out the sessions just a little, but he ultimately decided against it and instead poured his soul into the tattoo. Phil played a deathly amount of attention to detail and revisited areas several times after allowing them to heal in between. He used so many shades of ink that he lost track, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.

The moment he finished it was one that he would remember for the rest of his life. The first thing he did was sit back and stare in disbelief at the art in front of him. The art he made.

"It's done," he had muttered.

Dan heard and sat up to have a proper look himself. Phil watched in rapt attention, his mouth open as he watched the universe inked into Dan's skin ripple and move with him as he sat up. It made the whole thing seem alive.

It was by far the most beautiful tattoo Phil had had the pleasure of bringing into existence.

Dan seemed to share Phil's sentiments. Together they stared at it until Dan looked up at Phil, awe in his eyes.

"Phil, it's...it's bloody amazing. I don't even know what to say. Thank you so much, fuck, I love it." There was a smile so wide on Dan's face that it showed two dimples that Phil had never seen before. Quite frankly, between Dan's soft beauty and how well weeks of his work turned out, Phil had needed to catch his breath.

That was weeks ago.

He hadn't seen Dan since, and while he understood that he had zero claim on Dan's time, Phil still found himself glancing every time the door opened in the hope that it would be Dan. In some sense, Phil was remorseful over not letting the sessions drag a little because now Phil didn't get to see him.

Phil was on his phone playing one of his many games; it was an especially slow day. They hadn't had any walk-ins, and there were few appointments scheduled. That all translated into Phil being bored as hell.

He didn't look up when the bell chimed—it had been too long since Dan had last been in for him to properly hope for Dan to walk through—but he did slip his phone away. He got up from where he had been lounging and walked to the waiting room; he rounded the corner and started to greet the customer, but felt his jaw drop to the floor when he came face-to-face with Dan.

There was something different about him. He was stood straighter, and he actually met Phil's eyes without shying away. The bags under his eyes were the smallest Phil had ever seen them and the curls a top his head were messy due to general lack of styling, not looking as if the strands had been pulled by stressed hands. He wasn't as pale and even looked generally healthier.

"Hey, Phil."

"Hi, oh my gosh, I thought you weren't going to come back." Phil rambled, a smile on his face. Dan was grinning as well, his right dimple a shallow depression in his cheek.

"Oh come on, you know I wouldn't be able to stay away from you." Phil's heart dropped at the words. He tried to keep his mind from somersaulting to conclusions, but it might have been too late. Meanwhile, Dan's mouth twisted a little, like he had said something he wasn't supposed to, but he didn't try to change it. "Anyways, I have another tattoo idea in mind. It's not as labor intensive as the last one, don't worry, but it means a lot."

Phil nodded to show that he was listening, but was mentally hung up on Dan's little "it means a lot." All of Dan's tattoos had meant something to him—from what Phil could gather at least—but he had never expressed it so vocally. What was different about this one?

"What are you looking for?"

"Flowers, namely. Here, I have a list of all of the ones I want."

Dan dug a paper out of his jeans pocket and passed it to Phil. The paper was torn at the edges and crumpled, as well as covered in writing. There were eight total flowers, and Phil knew quite a few of them, but hadn't even heard of two. Meanings and half-baked thoughts were spread over the rest of the paper, some crossed out and others were circled. He couldn't read all of them at the moment, but he got the gist.

"I want it to look a lot like my shoulder one, but with more shading, if you wouldn't mind."

"How much more?"

"As much as you want. I want this to look as realistic as you can make it."

Phil nodded, already thinking about ways to arrange the flowers.

"Where do you want it?"

"Here," Dan said, putting his palm in his hip bone, his fingers splayed across his thigh, "right on my hip. I'd like for it to cover a bit of my side and thigh as well."

Phil swallowed to replace the moisture in his mouth. He couldn't deny that he found Dan attractive, nor that tattooing Dan hasn't affected him. Hell, Phil would constantly sneak guilty looks whenever Dan had had to remove his shirt for some of the other tattoos Phil had given him. But collarbones and the bumps of ribs were suddenly so much easier to handle than the prospect of spending extended amounts of time with his hands on Dan's hips.

He's going to be the death of me.

Phil didn't even ponder giving his heart a break from his crush and have one of the other artists work with Dan for this tattoo—Phil knew he would get too jealous.

"Do you have a more specific design?" Phil asked, praying that Dan couldn't hear his voice warble in the beginning. Dan shook his head.

"I want you to design it."

Phil closed his eyes and nodded, breathing deeply. His own design, right on what was an intimate area of Dan's body. Damn, okay, Dan really was going to be the death of him.

I appreciate the cute boy, universe, but this is just unfair, he thought.

~~~~~

Phil tested his tattoo gun. When he was sure it was working properly he dipped it in the cup of ink and brought the needle to Dan's skin, starting on the outline of the peony.

A few days ago Dan had asked for this tattoo. They'd spent two hours drawing it and making the stencil along with setting up a series of appointments for it. This was Dan's first one, and all they had planned was the line art. Simple enough, but Phil's left leg was still shaking.

Dan was laying on his side on the tattoo bench so his right hip was easily accessible for Phil. There was a blanket wrapped around his legs and torso to cover his body, which was naked from the waist down. The blanket was pulled away from his one hip so Phil could tattoo him, and really all of Dan that was exposed was the area he wanted inked and a bit of his ass, but Phil was still out of breath. He blamed Dan's smooth, unblemished skin for making Phil this much of a mess.

Travis walked past them to help a customer when the little bell above the door chimed. He shot Phil a wink and mouthed whipped. Phil suddenly regretted telling him about his crush on Dan a few weeks ago.

In short, Phil was nervous. He was pining. He was trying to stay calm and keep his freak-out internal. All of the pressure made him start to ramble, but he was certain that it was much less coherent than ever before.

The only thing that he didn't have to worry about was his hands, thank god. A combination of steel-like will refusing to make Dan's tattoo anything but perfect and years of practice made the tattooing smooth and unrushed. Phil was so good, he was even able to have time to do a bit of shading with Dan's consent.

The whole appointment was about four hours long, but it passed in about five minutes. When Dan's gone, Phil takes a lunch break longer than any other to gather his wits. He spends most of it with Travis after deciding that company would get his pining heart back under control. It works, even with Travis teasing him the whole time.

"He's got you wrapped around his little finger, mate." Travis unhelpfully supplied, cackling. Phil grumbled in response, pouting.

"Yeah yeah, sure, let's make fun of Phil for falling for a guy a little bit."

"A little? Sorry to break it to you, but you're gone for him, Phil."

~~~~~

Phil glanced at the clock again. He wasn't going to finish it in this appointment like planned.

He leaned back and clicked off his tattoo machine. Dan looked up at him, a happy smile on his face.

"Is it done?" he asked, excitement in his voice. Phil hated to disappoint him, but he shook his head.

"I still have to add in some of the harsher shadows and a few of the highlights. We don't have enough time for that since I have someone else coming in right after you, and starting it to only clean up in about ten minutes doesn't make much sense. I'm sorry it's not done even though I said it probably would be."

Dan was still smiling, which was a relief. "It's fine, Phil, I really don't mind coming back."

Phil wrapped the tattoo and took the materials he had been working with to properly dispose of and clean them while Dan disappeared to the bathroom—still wrapped in the blanket—to redress himself. Dan sat on the tattoo bench and watched Phil clean everything up after he was done, which was absolutely adorable if you asked Phil. Since he had the time he got out what he needed for his next customer and attached a small magnum needle.

"What kind of tattoo are you working on next?"

Phil winced. "Shading on a...well...let me show you." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his pictures until he found what he was looking for; it was of a client after his latest appointment. All of the line art and about half of the shading was done on a dragon that curled around the hairline of the guy's face. It was small, but still easily noticeable. Phil handed the phone to Dan who started giggling.

"God, I can't believe he'd want something like that on his face. What an idiot."

Phil mumbled something in agreement, his head stuck on how happy Dan sounded when he was laughing.

"Good luck with that." The bell chimed, letting the both of them know that Phil's next client had arrived. Dan's smile became a little more wistful. "I guess I should get going then."

Phil shrugged, hoping that his disappointment at Dan leaving wasn't showing too much. "Unfortunately I do have another customer. Should I schedule you for the same time in another month?"

"No, my schedule got changed around at work and I won't have time to come it while you guys are open." Dan pouted, sadness in his eyes. "It won't last forever, but it'll be a little bit until we see each other again, Phil."

Phil felt the frown pull the corners of his lips down.

"When are you off?"

"Sundays I have the whole day. During the week I'm working longer during the day, so we'd really only have fifteen minutes by the time you guys closed. It's okay though, I don't mind waiting a little for the rest of my tattoo."

The thing was, Phil wasn't prepared to go who-knows-how-long without seeing Dan.

"Stay here for a second," Phil mumbled, a crazy idea unfurling in his head. He walked to the back of the parlor where Travis was lounging on the sofa in the break room. He looked up when Phil came in.

"What can I do for you, Phil?"

"Do you think I could open the parlor on a Sunday?"

Travis raised his eyebrow.

"Phil, Sunday is the whole parlor's day off; why the hell are we opening it then?"

"Not everyone, just me. Dan can't make it for another appointment when we're open, and we don't know when he'll be able to come back on his new work schedule, which makes Sunday his only option."

Travis snickered.

"How did I know this was about Dan?"

"Travis, please, be serious. Can I?"

Travis traced the rim of the can in his hands with his finger, thinking. He took a sip before nodding.

"Okay, but I need to know when you guys are going to be here, and it's gotta be in the books for liability reasons. Make sure it's just the two of you, and don't make it more than two hours. If he doesn't show after fifteen minutes you leave, alright?"

Phil beamed.

"Thanks, Travis, I owe you."

"Don't do anything indecent in our tattoo parlor, Phil!" Travis called after him when he turned and left. It made Phil's ears reden, but didn't put a damper on his mood.

Dan was right where Phil had left him.

"How do you feel about coming in after hours on a Sunday?"

"What? Phil, you guys are closed on Sunday."

"I talked it over with Travis, and he's okay with me finishing your tattoo when it works for you. All that's left is just you picking when."

"Philip Lester," Dan laughed, a twinkle in his eye, "you're absolutely insane."

~~~~~

Five weeks later Phil was unlocking the parlor doors in his pajamas, feeling sleepy, but overall excited for the next few hours.

Dan arrived almost as soon as Phil himself did. He was smiling and in the happiest mood Phil had ever seen him in. It was weird to think about the first time Dan had wandered into the tattoo parlor about a year ago, curled in on himself and horribly passive. It was a good weird though, because when he thought about it, he couldn't help but smile at how much progress Dan has made.

"Aw, did I wake you, Phil?"

"Make fun of Phil, sure, go ahead." He mumbled with a fake pout as he started to set up this things. Dan didn't bother with the waiting room, opting on throwing his jacket onto the tattoo bench before hopping up. Phil could feel Dan's eyes on him, and the attention caused the back of his neck to prickle. He hoped he wasn't blushing.

When Phil thought it was safe he snuck a glance. Dan was in a pair of grey joggers that clung loosely to his body and a too-big black t-shirt. His curls weren't tamed in the slightest and the little rosey spot on his jaw that appeared when he got flustered was there, drawing Phil's eyes.

"You don't look too stunning yourself there, Dan." I'm lying. You look amazing.

"Shut up!" Dan laughed. "Unlike you, normal people can't look like a model in their pajamas, Phil. Have some pity for the rest of us plebs."

Phil chuckled, but he was horribly uncertain. Had Dan just...called him attractive? Was he overthinking it? I most likely am, Phil decided. There was something about Dan that made Phil unsure of everything.

Well.

Not quite everything.

Phil pulled himself from his thoughts. How many times has he thought about spending more time with Dan? Too many to count. And now that he had it (just the two of them, at that) he was busy thinking!

"Right," Phil said after the stretch of silence, "I'm gonna get the ink, when I get back you should be ready for me then."

Phil stood to get the tattoo ink, but he didn't miss how Dan's hands went straight to the hem of his joggers, his thumbs tucking under the waistband. Embarrassed that his gaze had followed such a simple movement Phil guilty looked up only to freeze when he saw Dan's eyes on him.

There was no way he didn't see that. Fuck.

He blushed hard, Phil's whole face heating up. Dan's eyes had a question in them, but it was one that Phil decidedly didn't want to look for at this second. He gave Dan a strangled smile and turned around, booking it straight to the back room where they kept the ink.

Phil picked and measured the ink with hands shaking from his mortification. Dan probably thought of him as some kind of creep now no doubt.

When Phil worked up the courage to venture back out Dan was on his side, the parlor blanket draped over his body like always.

He wasn't so sure if it was a relief or not.

Regardless, Dan didn't bring Phil's little awkward exchange up, which he was sure that he was thankful for.

Phil worked through the first half of the flowers completely fine. He took up his normal routine of rambling about what Dan had missed out on in Phil's life since they had last met. Dan was a bit more vocal, his hums louder than normal and more expressive. When Phil moved onto the fifth flower he started talking about how he had been driving home two weeks ago, and some douche had given him the finger because he hadn't been moving fast enough.

"Are you serious?" Dan asked over the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"Yes! I wasn't doing anything!"

"What an asshole. Did you do anything back?"

"No. I wasn't about to stoop to his level, Daniel."

Dan snorted. "We both know that you didn't because you're too nice, Philip. If I were there though, I would have told him where to go for you." 

"If I were there"

The four words hit Phil particularly hard. What if Dan had been there in the car with him? Would they have been going to Phil's to hang out as friends? Something else? A can of worms opened in Phil's head, and suddenly he was thinking a thousand scenarios that he could only wish would happen, and positively none of them were platonic.

For some reason, it made his heart ache.

After that moment, all of the rules they had nonverbally made shattered. Dan was talking more than usual; he was telling his own stories and making Phil laugh and smile, not the other way around. Dan also seemed to have lost his iron grip on his filter because Phil could name a few things he said that could be taken as flirty.

As a result, Phil's heart was flying all around the inside of his ribcage, and his head was hopelessly flipping between whether or not he should pursue it.

Best case he was reading the situation right and Dan actually had feelings for him as well. Worst case was Phil was horribly wrong and Dan (possibly homophobic in this scenario) would hate Phil and their friendship would end as abruptly as it began.

His anxiety told him that it was most likely the latter.

Phil clicked off the tattoo gun much sooner than he had anticipated. He studied the lines curling on Dan's skin for a flaw that he could fix, but there was none.

"Is it done?"

"Yeah. Looks like your latest tattoo is complete, Dan."

Dan took a few awkward pictures of his thigh before letting Phil wrap it. The whole time Dan was smiling wide enough for his dimple to appear on his cheek; Phil's heart ached longingly at seeing it.

After Phil ducked out of the room to let Dan pull on his pants, Dan helped Phil clean up the few empty cups of ink and other bits of trash while Phil cleaned his tattoo gun. They were standing at the register within fifteen minutes of Phil finishing Dan's tattoo even with his attempts at drawing the time out. He gave Dan his total and watched as Dan shuffled around in his wallet for the right amount of cash. (That was another thing about Dan. He always paid in cash.)

Feeling panicked at their time together slipping through Phil's fingers, he let his eyes drink in Dan standing before him, a sudden desperation to remember this moment perfectly taking over him. He traced over the dip of Dan's neck and the fall of his shoulders and over the curls of his hair, and certainly didn't miss how adorably soft Dan looked in his too-large clothing.

God, he wanted to kiss him so badly.

Phil wasn't sure what his expression was, or if his face was betraying what he was thinking about, but when Dan looked up with his money in hand, he immediately flushed scarlet.

Shit.

He opened his mouth to try and explain himself, but no words came out. Dan's eyes flicked from the floor, to Phil's face, and back to the floor.

It was silent for a few moments.

Right as the words "I'm sorry" were about to fall out of Phil's mouth, Dan finally looked back up at Phil, something in his eyes that Phil couldn't quite read.

"You don't want to fall for me, Phil."

Out of everything that Phil expected Dan to say, it certainly wasn't that. Maybe a "I'm flattered but-" or a "I'm not gay." But Dan telling Phil he didn't want to fall for him? He'd never have expected that in a million years.

"Why not?" he found himself saying. Dan shuffled on his feet.

"You just don't."

"Are you like a serial killer? Have you run over a puppy or something? I'm only asking because I don't think you realize I've already fallen for you, so it's a little late for that warning."

Phil hadn't really meant to say all that, but as he thought about it he knew it to be true. He was head over heels for Dan. There was no denying it.

"Do you like me, Dan?" Phil asked softly after Dan didn't respond. Something pained surfaced in those brown eyes of his and he nodded.

"Have you seen yourself?"

Phil let himself the little breathy laugh that escaped his lips—most of it was nerves anyways.

"One date?" Phil's voice sounded small even to his own ears.

"Phil…"

"Just one, if you're willing. If you don't want to or don't want to go on a second I won't be mad. We can just go back to being friends if you want. Just...one date, please? Let me treat you to dinner"

Dan didn't say anything for a long time. He just looked  Phil in the eyes. Phil, for his part, held Dan's gaze and let him search for whatever he needed to.

Eventually, he nodded.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet. Phil could feel the smile taking over his whole face and saw as Dan slowly started to grin as well. "Okay."

~~~~~

Exactly eleven days later Dan and Phil found themselves on the top of Phil's apartment complex after their dinner date because Dan wanted to see the stars, and Phil didn't have a balcony.

"That's Orion." Dan said, pointing up to a cluster of stars to Phil's left. "You can tell because of those three stars in a line make up his belt. That one a little to the left is Andromeda. You can't quite make out what's supposed to be her legs because we can't see all the stars, but it's still nice to look at."

"How do you know so much about the stars?"

"They were something I've always loved. I had a lonely childhood, so when I was little I made my own constellations and made stories for them—stupid, I know. When I got a little older, I decided to learn their actual stories."

"Is that why you've asked me for so many tattoos with stars in them?"

"Yeah. They all mean something."

Phil nodded even though they were laying on their backs and Dan most likely couldn't see the movement.

"Could you tell me about them? Your tattoos, I mean. You don't have you, you know. I understand more than most people that tattoos can be really personal."

Phil could feel nervousness creep up the back of his neck. Should he have asked that?

Dan rolled onto his side, and, unsure of if he was going to be told off or not, Phil copied the movement so they were facing each other. He watched as Dan touched his ribcage where Phil knew that he had inked the universe into his skin.

"This one pretty pretty much has to do with my love for the stars. I like to remind myself that everything is made of stardust, and because of it we're all our own set of made-up constellations." Dan's hand landed on is upper arm. "Cor cordium-"

"Heart of hearts." Phil blurted. At Dan's playful eyebrow raise, he blushed. "Sorry, I, uh, googled it after you left that one time."

Dan laughed. "Anyways, yes, it means heart of hearts in Latin. My inspiration came from the whole 'wear your heart on your sleeve' thing. I got it because I've spend an unhealthy amount of my life bottling things up and I now want to actually live my truth, not imagine it."

Dan pulled up his sleeve to reveal the little bear and have the courage to exist.

"These are sadder, honestly. Like I said, I had a lonely childhood, but it also wasn't a very good one. My parents...weren't the uh, best of people. They didn't really want me, and didn't really know what to do with me. They hated that I liked guys later on, and in general didn't really bother supporting me. They were abusive, bottom line. The bear covers up the remainder of my self-harm marks, and the quote is where I tried to kill myself when I was a teenager."

Phil's heart felt like it was splitting in two. On some level, he knew what those scars were before Dan told him, since Phil had seen them back when he had first given Dan the tattoos. On another, he had been in denial.

"Dan I'm…" Phil trailed off—he didn't even know what to say. Sorry? Sorry didn't cover the least of it.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago. I'm a lot better now."

Dan's fingers traced his collarbone next, his shirt separating his hand and the tattoo of the Leo constellation. "Like you said when I asked for it, I'm not a Leo. I'm actually a Gemini, but that's besides the point. I always wanted to be a Leo because everyone describes Leo's as so brave and confident, and I was constantly jealous. So, I thought, that if I have it tattooed, I'd always have a bit of that self-assurance that they always seem to have."

Phil nodded.

"What about the leaves?"

"That one I actually got because I thought they would look pretty on me. The flowers on my shoulder as well"

Phil hummed, a smile pulling at his lips. "Well, you were right. They do."

"Are you trying to say that I'm pretty, Phil?"

"Very."

Before Dan could answer, a breeze blew, making goosebumps prickle up on both of their arms. The weather was warming as they grew increasingly closer to summer, but it still might be a little too cold for laying on the roof to star gaze.

"How about we go back down before it cools off too much now that the sun's gone down?" Phil asked, helping Dan up. Dan agreed and subtly linked their fingers together before asking Phil to lead the way.

Phil shut the door to his apartment behind them. When he turned around, Dan was looking down at their hands still clasped together. He swallowed. Was Dan having second thoughts about this whole thing?

"Can I kiss you?"

He should be used to Dan flipping his whole world upside down, but he wasn't.

Phil licked his lips, trying to remember the last time he had put chapstick on—he couldn't. He hoped that his lips weren't horrendously chapped.

"Yes."

Dan stepped further into their shared space first, and with his movement Phil drifted forward as well. They met in the middle, the only their mouths and hands touching.

That didn't last long, however.

The contact soothed something that he didn't even know was aching in him, and it apparently had a similar reaction in Dan because it almost instantly deepened into something much more primal. Their hands broke apart to tangle around each other, Phil's fingers drifting just under the hem of Dan's shirt. At the action Dan nodded wildly, moving the fabric out of the way to let Phil's hand touch more of his soft skin.

"Dan," Phil gasped when Dan tried to pull them towards the couch, "are you sure? I'm okay with it, but I don't want to push you I just-"

"Shhh," Dan interrupted, pecking Phil's lips once more. "I'm more than okay with this as long as you are."

The knowledge took a moment to register in Phil's head with how mush it was from kissing Dan, but he gave Dan a smile when it did.

"Then stop pulling us towards the couch, you idiot, the bedroom is this way."

Dan giggled when his back hit the duvet, reaching up for Phil, who eagerly settled into Dan's arms. Their lips met again, slower and with more of a purpose than before. He wasn't sure how long it took for them to break, but he knew that when they did to pull Dan's shirt over his head, his lips were red and swollen.

As Dan's upper body was revealed Phil pressed kisses up and down the exposed skin where it was tattooed, using his mouth to trace over the very lines he had drawn months ago.

Phil decided that as much as he enjoyed looking at Dan's tattoos, he loved kissing them even more.

"What about this one?" Phil asked, sucking on the jut of Dan's collarbone. Dan moaned as Phil worked the hickey right over the words of his very first tattoo.

"I got it the—ah—day I cut ties with my parents. They weren't happy with it, as I know you noticed—remember that bruise?—but I really don't—Phil!—care."

Phil was frowning at the words, absolutely seeing red over thinking about that bruise he had noticed on Dan's side coming from his parents. He hated it, and he loathed that these people had hurt Dan so badly, emotionally and physically.

As much as he didn't like it, Phil couldn't do anything about the past.

But he could do something about the present.

Later, when they were both naked, moaning together in the throes of passion, Phil couldn't still his hands from finding their way to Dan's last mystery tattoo as he rolled his hips into Dan's. It was the only tattoo that Dan had yet to explain the meaning of, but Phil knew that he didn't have to guess.

Peonies, red carnations, lavender, daisies, and other flowers danced over Dan's hip. Healing, strength, new adventures, and happiness of life respectfully.

It was a tattoo of healing. Of new beginnings.

Phil couldn't wish for anything more than to be a part of it.

~~~~~

"Good morning," Phil whispered, kissing Dan's cheek. They had fallen asleep almost instantly after their activities last night. Now, they were cuddled together, Dan's head tucked under Phil's chin, his body completely enveloped by Phil's protective embrace. Dan sleepily blinked his eyes open.

"I hate to wake you, but I know you have work in a few hours. I thought you may want me to drive you to your place so you could get ready soon," he continued, keeping his voice soft. Dan frowned at the mention of work and buried his head into Phil's chest as if to avoid his responsibilities.

"Alright, sleep a little bit more if you want, but not too much."

"No, it's okay." Dan said, rubbing one of his eyes. He stilled once again in Phil's arms and for a few moments they were silent, Dan letting his fingertips follow the lines of one of Phil's chest tattoos, Phil just enjoying the moment.

"What are we, Phil?" Phil shifted so he could see Dan's face properly. "What do you want us to be?"

Dan didn't answer right away, but Phil was surprised at the certainty in his voice when he spoke.

"Boyfriends."

Phil smiled wide and kissed the top of Dan's head.

"Whatever you say then, boyfriend."

Dan laughed softly and gave Phil a fond smile. It melted after a few moments.

"Are you sure, Phil? Are you sure you want to be that with me?"

Phil understood that Dan had a few problems. He knew that Dan had trouble seeing the best in himself, but it was also evident through the progress Dan made by himself since Phil had known him that he was getting better. He used to resemble a scared kid, but now he was so much more comfortable in his own skin.

Phil knew that it wouldn't always be good. He understood that Dan would have his bad days. He realized that Dan would need a bit more reassurance and love.

Phil also knew that he was more than happy to provide it.

He kissed Dan tenderly on the lips, pouring in just how right this was.

"Completely."

~~~~~

Things, as a matter of fact, were not always good.

They were a bit rough in the beginning, but as they learned to work together as a couple and not just as casual friends things got better. Phil gave Dan everything he could to make him feel more comfortable in their relationship, and Dan put the world at Phil's feet.

They fell in love hard and fast, moving in with each other before the year was out.

Looking back, Phil knew that they both grew so much as people in that first year together.

"Phil, I'm starting the popcorn, hurry up!"

Phil smiled in the mirror of the bathroom at the sound of Dan's voice. This was going to be their ninth year together. Nine years of good and bad and everything between. Nine years of loving Dan.

"Coming!" Phil called, drying his hands.

He turned off the bathroom light and opened the door to join Dan in the lounge.

He didn't miss how the soft yellow of the nightlight caught on the ring on his left hand.

#please reblog #phandom big bang #my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfiction #phanfic #dan howell #phil lester #tw brief mentions of self harm #tw brief mentions of suicide #tw brief mentions of abuse #au #tattoo artist!au #tattoo artist!phil #tw minor descriptions of tattoo needles #fluff #angst #HAPPY ENDING

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 21

*wipes tear* my story can drink alcohol now *sniffs* they grow up so fast

Tags for chapter: v minor angst, fluff, plans for the future

Words for chapter: ~2.7 k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter (coming soon!)

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan put the steaming coffee in his right hand in front of Phil. Phil looked up and smiled in appreciation, gently pulling the plastic lid off to let the fresh coffee cool. He used his foot to push the chair across from him out from where it had been flush against the table, and Dan slumped into it gratefully, careful to keep his own coffee from spilling.

"Long morning?"

"God, you have no idea. Steve was working a half shift earlier, and dealing with him is the absolute fucking worst."

Phil nodded in understanding, his eyes darkening a little at the mention of Steve. With all of the shit Steve had pulled in the past, and all of the stories Dan told him after every shift they shared, Phil had a healthy hatred of the guy. Part of Dan found it cute, how protective he was whenever Steve was around.

"He's not coming back, is he?"

"No, thank jesus. He was just as happy about not working a full shift as I am."

Dan took a long sip from his steaming coffee, drinking it fast enough for it to not really burn his mouth and throat. One of his many near-useless skills was his tolerance to the heat of fresh coffee, and it always made him laugh to see people's distressed looks at his apparent disregard for his mouth.

"One of these days you'll drink a coffee that's too hot for you, and your hubris will be the end of you." Phil muttered, blowing on his drink and giving it a little sip. He grimaced and set it back down when the temperature still seemed to be too hot.

"Not in this lifetime." Dan glanced up at the counter, and when he saw there were still no customers, he relaxed a bit and turned his attention back to Phil.

It was Phil's day off, and even though they were both in the very public place of the coffee shop, Phil was still wearing his plaid pajama bottoms. The t-shirt that Phil normally slept in had been exchanged for a thicker sweater, and Phil's jacket was tossed over the chair he was sitting on. His hair was in a horrible state of bedhead, but Dan found the random cowlicks adorable. His eyes were tired but content behind his glasses, their focus on the various papers and the laptop spread across the table.

Dan hummed and nodded his head towards the table, knowing that Phil would pick up on his meaning without having to look up.

"Have you decided yet?"

The question messed around something in Dan's insides, but he ignored it. They were trying to rebuild things after their fight, and Dan knew that being a possessive, grumpy boyfriend who didn't want his partner to pursue their dreams would be a step in the wrong direction. They both knew that Dan didn't want Phil to go, but they also both knew how much Dan was dead-set on supporting Phil through this. 

Dan had assured Phil that their relationship—their feelings for each other—were strong enough to withstand this, and he had to stick by that because it was.

Phil frowned a little, shuffling a few of the papers absentmindedly.

"Not really? I've ruled a few possibilities out due to a bit of research I've done about each station, but at this point I'm up to making a decision, and I just don't know how to."

They both knew that Phil didn't have much time. By the end of the week, the station that Phil was currently working at would officially be gone, and he would be out of that job. He would still have his job at Tesco, and money wasn't an issue for him with how much he had saved away, but Phil didn't want to have a career of a Tesco cashier. He had a passion for meteorology, and trying to find a new station to work at was what Phil wanted to do with his life. It was the thing that excited him, and Dan more than respected that.

"Do you have any favorites?"

"No."

"Okay, um," Dan thought for a moment, biting his lip, "how about career-wise? Which one is the best for opportunities and stuff?"

Phil moved some of the papers around until he was holding a few, the others pushed to the side. 

"These are probably the best. Two stations in Birmingham, one in London, one, maybe two in Leeds, and a final one in Sheffield."

"Wow, and here I was thinking that meteorology was a competitive field." Dan snorted playfully. Phil rolled his eyes.

"They're not offering positions on television. Most meteorologists work behind the scenes, you know?"

"Yeah yeah, sure."

"You're impossible. But no, there's always an interest around, and stations are generally pretty good at humoring interest from meteorologists looking for jobs. The competition comes from trying to land a job. All of these stations are really well known, and I've got to make a real good impression to get hired, even with the star reviews I'm getting from my current boses. They all have people working for them that can do everything I can, I just need to impress them, make them think that I can bring something new to the table." Phil frowned, and his eyebrows pinched together. "We'll see, I guess."

Dan nodded. 

"Are you going to try and get an interview with all of them?"

"No, well, I don't know. Maybe? I'm not sure who I should pursue, so don't really know who to branch out towards. I guess I could just try them all and see where I land?"

"Well, what are all of these places offering you? Is one of them offering something that is different than the others?"

More shuffling of the papers. Phil took a generous sip of his coffee, and handed three papers over to Dan.

"I think these are the best deals? There's a local station in Birmingham that will probably accept me, and going from what I have, they're looking to replace their weather anchor. I could be wrong though, it's not like anyone really broadcasts if they're looking to fire. The one in London is a really well-known station, and it could probably give me the best opportunity to put my name out there. It also has the best pay, but I'm not too sure if I could get a job there, though. Then there's Sheffield. They have a really well-known and respected meteorology branch, and I could probably learn a lot by going there. Getting a job there would almost most likely mean that I would also be giving lessons at the local university, which I don't mind. It's a program that they are pretty proud of, to be honest."

Dan let his eyes roam over the sheets as Phil spoke. He picked out words here and there, not really reading, just skimming.

"These are your favorites?"

"Yeah."

"Then I think that you should apply to them. See what they say, and if they're interested, then you can pick between them. If you don't get an offer from any of them, then we can try and pick the next best options from what we've got left. How does that sound?"

Phil smiled, reaching over the table to curl his hand around Dan's. "I don't know how you ended up being the logical one between us if I'm being honest."

Dan laughed, feeling his eyes crinkle and his cheeks dimple.

"As it turns out, I'm actually very good at coming up with solutions as long as they aren't for my own problems. With those I'm kind of hopeless."

Phil laughed, and something in Dan's heart just felt light and happy. Dan settled back into his seat, letting his hand naturally slip from Phil's and curl around his coffee cup. He took a long sip, letting the flavor roll over his tongue. Dan drank so much coffee due to the easy access he had of it, and while it wasn't his favorite drink in the world, sometimes, like right now, he loved it.

Dan clicked on the screen of his phone, the corners of his lips tugging down a little at the lack of notifications.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Dan said, turning the screen back off and looking up, "I'm just waiting for Jaime to text me back. It's been longer than usual, that's all." 

"Do you think that something is up?"

"No, I'm almost certain that it's just because rehearsals are getting longer, and she was tired before, so she's got to be exhausted now. She's just busy, that's all"

"I'm sure she'll get back to you." Phil took a sip of his coffee. "What are you doing on Thursday?"

"Um, I have work until two, and then therapy right after. Other than that, nothing. Why?" Dan asked, even though he knew exactly why Phil was wondering. Dan was just surprised that he didn't beat Phil to it.

"Well, I was thinking about doing something with you for my birthday, if you want to that is. Dinner, maybe a movie after? Just the two of us?"

Dan smiled. They hadn't had a date night in a while. They had hung out together, sure, but they had never had a proper date in quite a bit. Dan was excited, but he also frowned, knowing exactly what Phil was trying to pull.

"Phil, you know that I would love to, but I'm not going to let you treat me on your birthday."

"Oh c'mon, Dan, spending time with you is a treat for me too."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Dan, love, let me take you out on a date. It's been ages, and I'd love to spend my birthday wining and dining you. You can repay me by visiting me wherever the hell I end up working, alright?"

Dan kept his frown, knowing that he really shouldn't be giving in to this. He had been planning on taking Phil somewhere, but now…

"Are you sure that this is how you want to be spending your birthday?"

"Yes."

"...Fine. But it can't be too fancy! I'm not letting you go over the top for this date, mister. Not when it's your birthday."

Regardless of Dan's warning, Phil beamed, dropping a kiss onto Dan's knuckles and instantly pulling out his phone. If Dan knew anything about Phil, he was googling restaurant recommendations and their menus. Dan sighed without any real malice behind it, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

"What time should I be ready by?"

"Hmm, I'll let you know, but somewhere around six? For an idea?"

"Fine by me."

The bell above the shop's door chimed, alerting Dan of new customers. Dan gave Phil's hand a squeeze before getting up, leaving Phil to his plans for Thursday. Dan chugged the last few gulps of his coffee left and stepped behind the counter.

Dan took the guy's order, a large strawberry and mango smoothie, with a blueberry muffin. As ironic as it may be, Dan was incredibly glad to be making something that wasn't laced with caffeine.

He put the finishing touches on the smoothie and put it on the counter along with the muffin. The guy grabbed the smoothie with his left hand, giving an appreciative sigh at the flavor. Dan rung up the order on the cash register and gave the guy his total. Dan watched as he put the smoothie back down, looking kind of sheepish as he rooted round his jacket pockets for his wallet. He tossed a small bill into the tip jar and handed over enough to pay for his food to Dan, who counted out his change and reached out to give it to him. As he grabbed it from Dan, Dan's eyes caught on the ring that was on his right hand.

It was a deep, solid black, polished to the point that little reflections shone in the light. The ring was on his right middle finger, and unassuming in every regard. Most people probably wouldn't think much of it.

But then again, Dan wasn't most people.

In his many years of existence, Dan had done a lot of research on the asexual community. There were a lot of symbols that represented asexuality, just like there were symbols for any of the other sexualities. And even though there were plenty of symbols, Dan had taken the time and care to learn them all because it made him feel closer to his identity. Playing cards, cake, even the AVEN triangle were all familiar to Dan.

However, all of those were things that the asexual community had adopted.

Black rings and their meaning, specifically on the right middle finger of one's hand, had been designed by asexual people to recognize each other in public discreetly.

Dan had seriously considered buying one multiple times, but he had always stopped himself at the last moment, fears of rejection and aphobia keeping him from going through with it.

And this guy had one.

One simple, black band around his finger that meant the world to someone like Dan.

Of course, there was the chance that Dan could just be reading into it too far. There was always the chance that this was nothing but a coincidence, and even if it wasn't Dan certainly didn't know this guy, and he might not appreciate Dan mentioning his (possible) sexuality.

But regardless, the flutter of excitement in Dan's heart was something that he couldn't ignore.

Dan had never met anyone like him. He never talked face-to-face with someone else who identified as asexual, who understood. It was always part of the reason why he felt so alone in his feelings, because as much as Jaime and Phil tried to keep their minds open, they could never truly relate to what Dan was going through. And it wasn't their fault, they just...couldn't.

But he might.

With a burning sense of needing to talk to the guy, Dan watched helplessly as he smiled and picked up both the muffin and the smoothie.

"Have a good day." He said with an easy-going grin. Dan stuttered something similar in response, completely overwhelmed at this whole encounter. But as he watched the guy take a step away from the counter, Dan found his jaw nearly unhinging in the rush to speak—

"I like your ring," Dan breathed in a rush, none of his words articulated properly and all of them coming out too fast, too slurred, there's no way he understood, no way.

But to Dan's utter stupor, the guy stopped and smiled in such a genuine manner that Dan couldn't help but laugh a little, his cheeks a little pink form embarrassment.

"Thanks," he said, but that one word said so much, and Dan wanted to cry from happiness because he had found someone like him.

Dan watched as he put his smoothie down and grabbed a pen from the counter, scribbling something quick onto a napkin. He pressed it into Dan's hand, an excited glint in his eye.

"My name's David. I have to get to work, but call me? It's been awhile since I've met someone new who's ace."

Ace.

Yes. Yes. God, yes.

Dan nodded wildly, a warm feeling in his chest. He watched as David picked up his smoothie once more with a giddy smile and left, throwing a happy "Goodbye!" over his shoulder. Dan slipped the paper into his pocket, a huge grin on his face. Phil looked at him with a raised eyebrow from across the cafe, and Dan nearly vaulted the counter in excitement to tell Phil what had him so happy.

Dan had found someone like him, someone ace.

Of course Dan had known that there were other asexual people in the world. Hell, he had even chatted with a few of them online when he was trying to figure himself out.

But there was something so different about meeting someone face-to-face. It was physical proof that no matter how alone Dan might feel sometimes, he wasn't.

He wasn't.

He wasn't.

#my fics #allyssaTM #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay:chapter 21 #idyts #dan howell #phil lester #au #ace!dan #dan's asexuality is important in this one! #fluff #tiny bit of angst #talking abt the future guys #*wipes tear* #they're finally communicating #phan #phanfiction #phanfic #chaptered

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare To Stay: Chapter 20

we made it to 20 boys!! this one isn’t as sad, but it’s very bittersweet

Tags for chapter: angst, brief mentions of depression/mental health issues, minor fluff (it gets better at the end), lots of cursing, so many f bombs

Words for chapter: ~3 k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan doesn't see Phil the first day he gets back from London.

In fact, Dan doesn't see Phil until the third day he's back in Manchester.

As damning as it might sound, not all of the blame was on Phil, but it was mostly all on Dan. Dan had taken three days to destruct during the week that Phil had been away, and all 72 hours were pure hell. And after Dan managed to pull himself from his sheets enough to try and be a person, Dan threw himself into his work. When he needed some sort of explanation for his behavior, he had used the flimsy excuse of needing to make up for the three work shifts he missed.

They had both asked after him during those three days where he disappeared with no explanation, and when Dan only returned horribly drawn into himself and not acting normal, they had grown even more concerned. Dan couldn't remember when he had last received so many texts in such a short time.

When Phil had initially gotten back it was late at night, and even though Dan had been awake when Phil had texted him, he hadn't responded. The next day Phil had called him, telling Dan that he had a loonngg shift at the weather station. However, he still wanted to try and see Dan because it had been ages since they had last had some down time together.

Dan had nearly bitten his tongue off to keep himself from dropping a damaging, smartass comment about how little he had seen of his boyfriend and that spending this much time apart was basically normal.

He knew that Phil was trying. He didn't deserve something like that.

It was Dan, however, to shut down the possibility of them meeting that day. Dan still wasn't feeling normal, and he knew that he looked like a hot, depressed mess. He not only didn't want Phil to see him like this, but he also didn't want to have to try and pretend. Dan knew that if they saw each other their time would be extremely limited between both of their work schedules that day, and Dan was well aware of how not okay he was. If he saw Phil he would act even less normal because of all of the reasons why Dan was hurting inside, and they didn't have the time right now to try and work through it all.

So even though it cut something inside of him to hear the fall of Phil's voice at Dan's rejection, Dan stood by his decision.

That shift seemed extra long, and it wasn't because Dan was working a double.

The next day Dan gave Phil a similar reason. The third one—the day they finally saw each other—was only the fateful day because Phil had shown up to Dan's door. Dan had opened it, not really knowing who would be behind the door, but he had been puzzled to find Phil standing there. He was a bit disheveled and his eyebrows drawn together in concern; the lines those eyebrows made only grew deeper the moment that Phil saw Dan.

When he saw Phil, a part of Dan that he wasn't proud of wanted to find any excuse he could to run or hide because he didn't feel anywhere close to being able to handle this. Instead, he only opened the door wide enough for Phil to pass through, and led him into the lounge where they stood, five feet apart physically and even more in every other way that mattered.

Dan resisted the urge to squirm as Phil raked his eyes over Dan's frame. Dan had no doubts that he noticed the rumpled clothes, messy hair, his slightly thinner frame from not properly eating, and the deep eye bags from a lack of sleep.

"Dan…" Phil breathed, like it was the only word he could manage.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Pulling away from you when you got back. I know I shouldn't have shut you out like that, and I know you wanted to see me. I wanted to see you too, but just…"

"Just?" Phil asked after Dan trailed off and didn't continue his sentence.

"...not like this."

Phil's face softened, and he took a few steps forward to close the physical distance between them. He took Dan's hand into his after a moment.

"Dan, there won't ever be a time when I don't want to see you. And when you're in a bad place I only want to be here more to help you."

Dan looked down.

You say this now. You don't know how bad it gets.

"This has to do with you going M.I.A. last week, doesn't it? Dan," Phil said, his voice soft as can be, "what happened to you while I was gone? I want to help, but...but you need to let me in."

Two sides in a bitter war rapidly formed in Dan's head. One was melting at Phil's words and swelling with the notion that Phil cared about him this much. The other was taking advantage of Dan's post-depressive-episode emotional state and rising with a terrible anger at Phil trying to talk about letting people in. Dan wasn't proud at how fast that darker side of him took over.

"You can't really talk about letting people in when all you've been doing for the past month is shutting me out." Dan bit back before he could even try and control his words. His hand slipped out of Phil's, and the part of Dan that didn't want to get angry screamed that this was going to manifest into one of Dan's many regrets if Dan kept acting like an asshole.

Phil looked confused for half of a second, but his expression immediately became guilty.

"Dan, I know we haven't been spending a lot of time together lately, but it's just been work stuff, and I-"

"Oh, like how over a month ago whatever the hell you had on your phone was only a change in schedule? Yeah, no offense but I'm calling bullshit."

Dan had no idea where he was getting the anger or the energy for this. He had been so, so drained this whole week, and now his body decided to kick into high gear?

Phil's eyebrows crinkled once again, but this wasn't him being concerned. This was him stifling his anger. For some reason, that only made Dan madder.

"What are you talking about?"

Dan laughed. "What am I talking about? Do you remember that movie night we had, and I took care of our trash. When I came back in you were on your phone, reading something, but you were so upset. You looked like you were going to throw your phone—and I'm sorry I was concerned about you—but I asked you what was up, and you lied to me."

Phil huffed, and Dan watched agitation blossom in his eyes.

"What, should I come to you whenever I get any notification now? Dan, that's like, three red flags of what should not be in a relationship."

Dan ran his hands through his hair, groaning.

"No, I don't care what the hell you get on your phone. What I care about is that you fucking lied to my fucking face! That's the kind of shit my parents pulled all the damn time, and fuck, I can't stand when people fucking lie to me!"

"Is this why you look like you've been through the war? Have you been upset about this this whole time? I mean, Dan, I never meant-"

Dan knew that this anger was his hyperactive depression taking the wheel and trying it's hardest to fuck up anything good in his life, but he felt powerless to stop it. He was spitting out words faster than his brain could try and regulate them.

"Uh, yeah, I've been sitting here for the past month trying to figure out why the hell my boyfriend lied to me and feels that he can't fucking trust me, but if you think that it's the only reason that I look like fucking shit then you are sorely wrong." Dan took a step forward, some sort of dam inside of him having been smashed to smithereens. "I spent the the first two weeks of this year wondering why you were only pulling further and further away from me. I barely saw you, and when I did, it was for such a little amount of time. You dropped everything once your phone rang, but you didn't even bother to answer half of my texts."

Dan turned away and started to pace. He needed a way to get rid of all of this sudden energy that he had.

"I spent the whole week before you left slipping into depression, and slowly getting stuck inside my head." "You could have told me, I-"

"Don't even try and put this on me because you also could have done a lot too. And can you really blame me for thinking that you didn't want me to bother you? It's not like you seemed like you wanted anything to do with me."

Phil recoiled like he had been physically hit with Dan's words.

"And when you left, god, it was just in time for me to fall apart completely. I spent three fucking days in bed thinking about how lonely I am and how the only two people in this world that I care about are moving on without me and how I'm going to end up alone. And Phil that's not your fault, but the reason why I look like I've been through the war is because I fucking have been. You don't get to try and berate me for pushing you out when that's all you've been doing to me for the past fucking month."

Dan took a breath, clenching his fists and blew out the air in his lungs shakily.

God, I really need to calm the fuck down…

A minute passed in complete silence while Dan gathered himself and tried to dampen the flames of anger inside of him.

When he started talking again, his voice was at a normal volume.

"I've been hurting so bad. I know I could have told you, but you also could have noticed. I'm upset that you lied to me. I'm upset that you shut me out and flat out ignored me at times. I'm upset that you didn't feel like you could trust me. I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want to spoil the holidays, and then you slipped away from me so quickly. I haven't exactly had the chance, and I'm sorry I let it blow up to this. I'm really sorry I just like, screamed at you, but fuck, it felt good to let it all out."

Dan slumped against his couch. The anger that had engulfed him had been sudden and complete, and it was gone as fast as it had arrived.

It was quiet for a moment...five...ten…

"The station isn't getting enough views anymore, and they can't keep losing money. The owners are dissolving the company to cut their losses, and the last broadcast is at the end of the month. I knew the owners really well so they've endorsed me to a few other stations, but none of them would be based around here, and I'd have to move." Phil said, quietly, his gaze on his feet. "I've been trying all of the other local weather stations to try and get a job, but none of them are hiring, even after calling in some favors and dropping a few names. I didn't want to tell you until I knew what I was doing."

Dan's jaw dropped at the words, horror seeping into his bones.

"I…" Dan trailed off, not even knowing where to start. The attention to his phone, the never-ending phone calls, the constant long hours and appointments, they all fell into place and made much more sense than any half-baked explanation Dan had tried to come up with.

And god did Dan feel guilty. Phil had been dealing with all of this for so long, and he had undoubtedly been anxious and stressed over it, and what had Dan done? He had gotten worked up over the fact that he was missing a bit of attention, let it fuck with his head, and he had just fucking exploded at Phil for no good reason.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Dan breathed, and his voice sounded guilty, tight, and overwhelmed, "I didn't know, and I shouldn't have-"

"Exactly, Dan, that's exactly my point." Phil interrupted, tangling his fingers through Dan's. "I didn't tell you because I was scared and selfish and I didn't want to admit that something like this was happening. I didn't think about how this would affect you, and now that my head isn't up my own arse I'm sorry that I put you through that. I'm sorry I lied to you, and I'm sorry I kept pulling away from you." Phil laughed a little. "I was so worried about protecting you from the stress I was going through that I didn't even see how my actions were affecting you."

They both fell quiet, and that silent moment with nothing but Phil's thumb rolling over Dan's knuckles was exactly what Dan needed to collect himself.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know I already said that, but even if you were a bit of a jerk you didn't deserve it."

"I kind of did."

"No, you really didn't. Normally I'm better at handling things like that, but I guess I'm worn pretty thin to the bone right now. It's no excuse, but…"

Phil squeezed his hand.

"It's alright. I promise I won't ever try and keep something like this from you. I learned my lesson, trust me."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"If the station is going under, why did they send you to that old guy? I would have thought that they would try and keep all the money they could."

"Normally, yeah. The owners and I know each other really well though. They're friends of my parents and I grew up around them. When it was clear that the station wasn't going to survive, they wanted to give me all they could for me to make it somewhere else as a meteorologist. So they convinced their old colleague to mentor me for a week."

Dan hummed in response, thinking. There was one other question he wanted to ask, but he was afraid of the answer.

He decided to ask it anyways.

Being afraid had been what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

"Have you decided where you want to go yet?"

Phil sighed, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight.

"No. The few places I was recommended to are too far for me to commute to, like I said, and I tried every local station I could."

"So what are you thinking of doing?"

Phil bit his lip.

"Nothing I guess. Keep trying, maybe hope that a local station gets an opening, but other than that...I don't think I can really do that much."

"Wait a minute, Phil, you're just giving up? You can't do that, meteorology is your dream! You have a freaking degree in it, you've worked so hard to get where you are, and you're just going to throw it out the window?"

"Don't you think I know that? I just…" Phil squeezed Dan's hand, and Dan's eye widened as he caught all of the words Phil was trying to convey to him without speaking.

"Phil, you can't give up on your dream just because of me."

"I wouldn't say I'm giving up on it, more like...pressing pause?"

"Phil."

"Okay, fine, you caught me, I'm not pursuing any of the other stations in the cities because I'd have to move away from you, and I don't think I could do that."

Dan pulled Phil down with him onto the couch. They instinctively curled around each other, each of their bodies bending in the direction of the other.

"You can't sacrifice your career for me. I won't let you."

Phil only continued to play with Dan's hand in his, not quite ignoring Dan's gaze, but not meeting it either.

"Phil."

He looked up, and Dan tried to smile to reassure him.

"Listen, if you want to pursue your dream of being a top meteorologist, then I'll stand by you, even if that means that you have to move across the country. You're special to me, Philip Lester, and I'm willing to sacrifice a little cuddle time to see you happy and doing what you love. Besides, we can always visit each other."

"Dan, we both know you can't really afford a lot of trips places, especially if they're far."

Dan shrugged.

"A few doubles never hurt anyone." 

"Dan, you already work way too much, there's no way I'm letting you work more just for me." 

"Shhh," Dan interrupted. The stress of trying to come up with the money to visit Phil regularly would bear down on him later, but Dan didn't want to think about it right now. Right now he was so, so fond of this man in front of him. This man who knew that something like this would stress Dan out of his mind, and tried—even if he went about it the wrong way—to relieve that stress.

Relationships needed effort from both sides to work, and sometimes that effort wasn't quite equal. Right now, Dan needed to put in a little more effort, and that was okay. He could do it. He wanted to do it. He wanted to fight for this beautiful, incredible, amazing thing in his life.

"We'll get through this, alright? You don't have to worry; I'm not going anywhere."

Phil's frame relaxed at Dan's words, and relief oozed from him. He let his hand cup Dan's head and gently pulled him into a kiss.

"Thank you."

#my fics #allyssaTM #dan howell #phil lester #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #au #minor fluff #angst #so much cursing oh my god #they're finally talking boys #also we made it to 20 chapters! #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 20 #idyts #chaptered

[phan-of-the-pen]

wow do you ever just post regularly to flex on your past self

#allyssaTM #shut up allyssa

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 15

After like 6 months I’m back! Sorry about the wait you guys, but I put out three PBB fics in that period, wrote two new chapters for this fic, and balanced my own crazy life. Thank you for your patience, updates will resume normally! Enjoy!

Tags for chapter: fluff, vvv minor angst

Words for chapter: ~2.7

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan stepped through the front doors into the lobby. It was small and had basic furniture that looked as if it had come from the same dull color scheme, but Dan didn't really mind. He wouldn't be here very long.

A tired secretary looked up at him as he entered, but when Dan settled in one of the seats in front of the television, she looked back down at her paperwork, a frown still on her face.

Dan looked up at the TV and smiled wide. It was on the same channel that the weather station aired, and on it Phil was grinning and relaying the temperatures for the day and how the sun for once would be shining for most of the afternoon.

Dan sat and watched the whole time Phil was on, a goofy smile on his face. When the angle switched to the news anchors, Dan's attention drifted to his phone, where he scrolled through twitter for a little. Now that Phil wasn't on the live broadcast he'd be in a separate room, recording a few different takes of a handful of different weather broadcasts that the station could air later in the day, depending on which of their predictions were correct. And since Phil was here as an employee and not an intern today, as soon as he was done, they could leave.

They'd been dating for a few weeks at this point, and with Dan's workaholic schedule and Phil's two jobs, most time between them had been lunch breaks and an impromptu sleepover, or a few hours together of kissing and movies and video games before reality once again rained on their parade. Today however, Dan was off due to the shop being closed so it could get some of its appliances replaced, and Phil had his whole day off as well minus his morning broadcast. They were planning on spending it together and to shop and wander around Manchester as it rapidly neared the holiday season.

Dan thought that a day just for the two of them was long overdue.

A few people came and went while Dan was sitting there, and he eventually stopped looking up so hopefully since every time he only got a stranger returning his excitement with a look of bewilderment at Dan's gaze. And besides, had he gotten a little caught up in scrolling through the various threads? Maybe. Had he gotten comfortable in his seat and popped his earbuds in? Possibly. Did Phil ever give him a ball-park time as to when he would be done? No. So he really had no business materializing out of nowhere and hooking a finger under Dan's chin, tilting his head up and kissing him in greeting. Dan's legs just went jelly even though he wasn't standing, and his thoughts flatlined.

"Uh," Dan said eloquently when Phil pulled back. Phil laughed and helped Dan up.

"Hello to you too. I'm all done by the way—are you ready to get out of here? I distinctly remember planning a whole day together with my boyfriend."

Dan managed something between a breathy "yeah" and "of course" and let Phil grab his hand, leading him outside dumbly, still overwhelmed with how easily this cliche bastard could knock all of the breath out of his lungs. He simultaneously hoped that he would eventually get used to it—becoming a stuttering mess was highly inconvenient at times—and also never wanted that feeling of devotion to go away.

The sun was surprisingly warm for early December, and the sky was clearer than Dan had seen it in an awfully long time. Topped with all of the Christmas decorations around and nestled into Phil's side, their hands threaded, Dan really couldn't imagine a better way of spending his day off.

Their first stop was Starbucks—a Dan and Phil tradition. They'd gone to a Starbucks for their first "date" on one of Dan's lunch breaks, and ever since, they'd hit it a half a dozen times together in the several weeks of their relationship.

Phil ordered while Dan snagged them a table in the corner. He returned however, with a horrendous amount of foam on his coffee and a simple protest of "it's flavored leave me alone." Phil then proceeded to take a huge sip, leaving a hefty foam mustache on his upper lip. Dan laughed hysterically and couldn't help but snap a picture of Phil's adorable pout, sending it to Jaime after saving it to his phone. He was surprised when his phone beeped almost right away. She was down in London today working on the play, and it was too early for her to be on her lunch break already.

>> From: my maraschino cherry look at you two and ur coffee dates ur sickening

also

how much foam did he ask for that man is living in a world w/o god

>> To: my maraschino cherry too much. the answer is too much

"Is that Jaime? You two aren't conspiring against me again, are you?"

Dan snorted and took a sip of his own coffee (with a normal amount of foam, thank you very much).

"If you count conspiring as us dragging you for the sheer amount of foam on that coffee, then yes, absolutely."

"Hey! Unlike you, I refuse to be subjected to society's standards as to what is acceptable with coffee. Besides, what do you know? My coffee is fantastic."

"Some lines just shouldn't be crossed, mate, and a gallon of foam is one of them. And you're forgetting—I literally make coffee for a living. I think I have the right to judge." Dan said, rolling his eyes in the fondest way possible. Phil grumbled as if he was annoyed, but Dan could tell that he didn't really mean it.

Dan leaned back against the chair and watched Phil as he used the front camera on his phone to make sure he wiped away all of the foam from the top of his lip. Was that creepy? Maybe. But Dan just couldn't keep his eyes off of Phil, as cliche as it was. Phil was just Phil—Dan couldn't ignore him if he tried.

"What, did I miss some of it?" Phil asked, already pulling his phone back out of his pocket. Dan grabbed his hand to stop the movement.

"No, you spork, you didn't." Dan said softly.

Phil's face brightened and a sly smile spread across his face. "So," he drawled, "whatcha looking at then?"

Dan let his thumb flitter over the tops of Phil's knuckles before answering.

"A dork."

"Hey!"

Dan cackled as Phil crossed his arms and pouted. He started whining about how Dan was being a "terrible boyfriend" and "first the foam now this," and he was being so ridiculous that Dan only laughed harder. Phil just kept going though, and Dan tried to shush him in between giggles, but to no avail.

What an absolute fucking nerd, Dan thought as he gave up trying to stop Phil with words and instead pulled him forward into a kiss. Dan was still trying to control his laughter so he wasn't even really kissing properly and pretty much just smiling against Phil's mouth, but it worked perfectly. Phil shut up instantly and kissed back. His arm snaked around Dan's waist loosely, but it still sent a tingle up Dan's spine anyways.

Dan pulled back a little, his cheeks aching from laughing. "Hey."

"No no, come back here." Phil dragged Dan right back to his side, and this time the kiss was a proper one. When Phil let go of him Dan knew his cheeks were dusted pink, and in his own opinion the blush probably matched the warm feeling in his chest.

Phil hummed, smiling softly down at Dan. "Cute."

Dan rolled his eyes, but they both knew that didn't mean anything.

After they finished their coffees, they wandered out into the city. Earlier in the week they had planned out all of the stores they had wanted to visit, but things ended up taking longer than expected because they couldn't stop themselves from walking into every building that had something that caught their eye. With all of the extra stops, the shopping trip had to be split in half by lunch. Dan didn't mind though. A nice lunch in a little corner cafe with Phil was a pleasant and welcomed surprise.

Dan found his Christmas present for Jaime, and nearly bought one for Phil as well. The only thing that stopped Dan from buying the galaxy jumper was the fact that it was about twice as much as Dan's already small and strained budget.

It was nearing the evening when they stepped through the threshold of Phil's apartment. The day had been incredibly fun, and Dan didn't even mind that he was tired from all of the walking that they had done, or that the tip of his nose was near froze from the cold air.

Dan dropped the bags in his hands down onto the floor next to Phil's. He reached back up for the zipper on his coat, but Phil's hands batted it out of the way. Surprised, Dan raised an eyebrow at Phil, but it went unaddressed by the older man. Phil slipped the coat from Dan's shoulders and hung it up.

"Why don't you go pick out a movie, Dan? I'm in a bit of a mood for popcorn and snuggling under a blanket."

He retreated back to the lounge, the faint blush on his cheeks from Phil taking his coat off for him dissipating. It had been domestic and Dan enjoyed being taken care of, shoot him.

Dan settled on a bit of a classic and popped it into the DVD player. Behind him he could hear Phil starting the microwave, and even though they had ate not that long ago, Dan's stomach grumbled at the smell of the butter. Dan pulled one of the many blankets Phil had off of the back of the couch and wrapped it around him. He left half of it off to the side for Phil.

"You can start it! I'll be right in."

The opening credits of The Shawshank Redemption had finished playing by the time Phil surfaced, but it was with a large bowl of popcorn and accompanying sweets, which made up for lost cuddle time in Dan's mind.

A few moments later Phil was settled under the blanket, pressed next to Dan. The snacks were in a pile on their laps, and they frequently snuck a hand out from under the blanket to munch on them.

The movie was one of Dan's favorites, and he decided that watching it with Phil's body curled around his, tucked away in their little corner of the world, made it even better.

Phil had also never seen the movie before, and Dan had brought his own copy of it over ages ago with the intention of watching it. Unfortunately, they had never gotten the chance to until now, but it was hardly an issue. Dan enjoyed Phil's gasps of surprise, and his frantic panic towards the end of the movie when things were hitting the climax. When the screen faded to the end credits, Phil's jaw was dropped, shock on his face.

"I'll take it you enjoyed it?" Dan asked, a smiling. Phil stared at the television for another moment before snapping to attention.

"Like it? Dan, that was one of the coolest movies I've ever seen. And it's based off of a book, you said? God, I need to read it, oh my gosh." Phil continued rambling about his favorite parts, and he talked about his thought process through the movie. "I swear I thought Andy was guilty! But then he got some proof that he wasn’t, and they shot the guy!"

"Yep. Really makes you think, huh?"

Phil laughed.

"Yeah, it does."

Dan smiled, happy that Phil had enjoyed something that Dan loved. He pecked Phil's lips with his own before mustering the willpower to scoot out of their little blanket cocoon.

"Can you take it out of the DVD player? I'll take care of our scraps."

Phil was still smiling softly at him, and the look was making Dan's insides feel all warm and gooey. Not that long ago that would have terrified him, but now it just made Dan's grin go wider.

He quickly washed the bowl to get the butter off of the sides and put it back in Phil's cabinet. Before he left he shut the rest of Phil's cabinet doors, rolling his eyes. Phil could look at a bunch of nonsense numbers and measurements and predict the weather, but the man couldn't bother himself to close a cabinet door.

Dan walked back into the lounge, ready to tease Phil about it, but stopped when he found him standing next to the couch, reading something on his phone. His eyebrows were crinkled and the corners of his mouth were turned down in something between a frown and a grimace. The expression caused the joke on Dan's lips to wither, and for a moment Dan just stood there, watching Phil. He didn't seem to know that Dan was back in the room.

"Is everything alright?"

Phil jumped at Dan's voice shattering the silence, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The small smile plastered on Phil's face was fake, and Dan could tell that Phil was trying to figure out what to say.

"Yeah, it's just an email from work."

"Tesco emailed you?"

"No, the weatherstation."

"Oh." Dan didn't know if he should keep pushing, but when he thought about the frown on Phil's face just a little bit ago and how his shoulders were curled in anxiety, Dan's resolution hardened. He knew first hand what something negative could do if it was allowed to fester, and he didn't want that to happen to Phil. "Was it something bad?"

"No, not really." Phil said, his fingers sliding into his pockets. Dan couldn't help but frown at that. Phil stuck his hands in his pockets when he was uncomfortable. Was Dan making him feel like that? "My schedule just got changed up a bit. I'm going to have to ring Tesco to have them adjust my shifts so none of them overlap."

Dan nodded, but there was no doubt in his mind that Phil wasn't telling the truth. Another glance at Phil's hands in his pockets held back Dan's tongue, however. He didn't want to make Phil uncomfortable or anxious.

Dan decided to drop the subject, but he didn't let his suspicions fall.

"Did you want to call them now? I can step back into the kitchen if you want?"

"No!" Phil said, his arms flinching like he wanted to move them, but decided not to at the last minute. "It's fine, I promise. I'll call them in the morning—I don't think anybody would pick up, anyways. Come on, it's my turn to pick a movie."

Phil gave Dan one last strained smile before turning all of his attention to the shelf of movies he owned. Dan was still frowning, worried about what had really been on Phil's phone, and even more worried about Phil, but he didn't say anything. Dan didn't think that Phil really looked at the selection and more-or-less just popped a random disc into the DVD player. After pressing play, Phil caught Dan's wrists and pulled him to the sofa. They settled back under the blanket, but this time Phil was holding Dan against his chest, his arms wrapped around Dan to keep him close. He pressed a soft kiss to Dan's temple.

"Relax, everything's fine, I promise."

It didn't do much to ease Dan's thoughts, but he did relax his body, as well as tuck his worried thoughts away to deal with later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this time with Phil.

#my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfiction #i dare you to stay #fluff #au #i dare you to stay: chapter 15 #idyts #vvvvvv minor angst #dan howell #phil lester #phanfic

[phan-of-the-pen]

hi I’m Allyssa and I’m your favorite local asexual popping in to say that I may not love myself but heck!! I sure love girls!!

This is the first pride month that I’m not 110% in the closet for and I’m happy to celebrate it this 20gayteen! a big thanks @ dnp for being absolute babes and making me smile :)

🖤♡💜

#click on these they'll look better #phandom pride month meetup #phandom meetup #pride meetup #tumblr phandom meetup #my face #hi I am gay #allyssaTM #selfie

[phan-of-the-pen]

#i just picked my fav 3 responses of mine lol #dan and phil #ii #interactive introverts #dnp #allyssaTM #shut up allyssa #its late im tired and cackling #dunno why tho these arent even that good lmao

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay - Chapter 13

Yes! It’s finally here!! After literal weeks of me writing and revising!! After a lot of writer’s block!! After deleting like half of it and then rewriting it!! It’s finally here!!! Enjoy!!! @dansyellowshirt

Tags for chapter: fluff, themes of verbal abuse, protective!phil, some angst

Words for chapter: ~4.6

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan was not happy.

In fact, he was fucking pissed.

When he and Phil had finally parted ways, Dan had walked into the coffee shop in absolute bliss. The shop looked to be in the process of being half-open when he entered, most of the lights being on and the self-serve bar already filled. Jaime wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Dan could hear the sounds of someone moving in the back. They were probably out of cups again.

While he waited for Jaime to resurface from the supply room, Dan tied on his apron and pinned the name-tag to his chest. He was starting to set the register for the day when he heard steps behind him and the closing of the heavy supply door.

"Jaime, you'll never fucking believe what the hell happened, I-" Dan started, turning around to face his best friend with a huge grin on his face. Jaime wasn't the one to stumble out from the supply door, though, and Dan could feel his happy mood shatter as none other than Steve surfaced, accompanied with an impossible amount of things in his arms threatening to spill over any second.

Instantly, Dan's smile crashed and his heart dropped to his toes. Fuck….where the hell was Jaime?

"Would you stop staring and give me a hand? It's bad enough that you're late to work anyways." He grumbled, his frown already deepening. It was like Dan's presence was just...sucking the life from him.

Dan could say the same.

He didn't immediately move to help due to equal parts of reluctance and utter surprise at seeing his prickly coworker instead of his Jaime. He jerked into action however when a bag of coffee grounds decided to kamikaze off of the top of the armload of things Steve was carrying, scooping it up before it could touch the ground and depositing it onto the counter.

"Oh, that's all you can carry, huh?"

Dan turned, a scowl on his face that matched Steve's perfectly.

"Sorry, but I was a little thrown off to see you here instead of Jaime. You could have just taken a second trip, you know."

"Yeah, and you could have just shown up when you were supposed to. Besides, Jaime said she told you we were working together, so that's bullshit."

Dan wanted to scream and they hadn't even opened already, one, because of Steve's asshole attitude, and two, because Jaime didn't tell him, but he just clenched his jaw and turned back to the register. He could pull a shift with Steve without knocking the guy's teeth out, he's done it before, he can do it again.

Maybe with a miracle, Dan thought as he heard Steve stumble through starting the many coffee makers, grumbling to himself and making a mess that Dan would surely have to clean up.

He was restocking their supply of change in the register a few moments later and feeling a tad bit better about the situation—assuming they would both be able to just keep to themselves the whole shift—when something was thrown in his direction, hitting the side of his head and making Dan drop all of the coins in his hands onto the floor in surprise. The coins scattered in every direction and Dan swore loudly, looking up at Steve with murderous eyes, one hand coming up to his temple where whatever Steve threw at him had hit, even though it hadn't particularly hurt. Steve met his gaze with a mildly surprised expression—complete with a raised eyebrow—and shrugged.

"Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I can't help but notice your...well, hair. I don't think my uncle would want his business represented like that, so, put the hat on."

Dan glanced down to see one of the coffee shop employee hats crumpled on the ground. They were only required to be worn to pull an employee's long hair back and were otherwise completely optional, so Jaime and the other part-time girls that worked here were the only ones that really bothered with them. Dan flicked his gaze back up to Steve and glared with all of his might, trying to just murder the guy with his eyes.

"I've never had to wear one before I don't see why I have to now." Dan ground out, his jaw clenched.

"To my knowledge, Daniel, you've never decided to dye your hair before, so I guess this is a new experience for all of us." He responded, his voice dripping with distaste.

"What about Jaime's hair, huh? You've never said anything to her about her dyed hair so what's the big fucking deal with mine?" Dan shot back, his temper rising faster than he would have liked. His anger flared even further at being referred to as Daniel. Steve knew perfectly well that Dan didn't like his full name.

"She wears a hat, does she not?" Steve quipped.

Dan narrowed his eyes, but he didn't really have a smart-ass comeback for that because she did, it just wasn't because her hair was more red than a cherry was, but because of its length.

Not that Steve would fucking acknowledge that, though.

"Exactly." Steve said after Dan didn't immediately respond. "Put on the hat. And stop swearing."

Dan was about ready to explode, but this asshat's uncle was his boss and owned the whole damn shop and Dan barely had enough money as it was working as much as possible on a decent pay grade, so he really didn't need to get fired and have to work at minimum wage at some grocery store. Not to mention he would have to move or work roughly nonstop to pay his bills at that much of a pay cut.

So in the effort of his future, Dan bent down and picked up the hat, fitting it over his straightened hair with as much distaste as he could manage. Steve smirked and turned back around to continue beginning to brew coffee.

Angry and sufficiently humiliated, Dan shuffled about on his hands and knees, picking up all of the coins he dropped and sorting through them to put back into the register. They didn't say anything to each other, but then again words weren't needed to be able to feel the tension and utter hatred in the air between them.

After that, they finished the chores that they needed to accomplish without anything else being thrown or spilled, even if the split was uneven and Dan ended up doing the most of them. They opened and worked side by side in relative silence, serving a wide range of coffees in a short amount of time with a very abrupt influx of customers. The only thing that broke the monotone between them was the passive-aggressive bullshit Steve pulled. It was little shoves and almost-trips as Steve passed Dan, making Dan's blood rage in his ears because there was no way that he could go to his boss about this—Steve had his uncle wrapped around his little finger. God, he fucking hated Steve.

When Mary popped in not that long after opening, even she easily picked up on his sour mood.

"Why the long face, love? Is it because Jaime isn't in today?" She asked him, after exchanging their normal pleasantries.

Dan didn't really get the chance to answer before Steve was walking past him as Dan was in the midst of making Mary's coffee, bumping Dan out of the way. Dan hissed as some of the scalding hot liquid splashed up on his hand, pulling his hand away immediately on reflex and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth where he licked away the coffee and tried to sooth his skin. Dan lunged for the sink, turning on the cold water and thrusting his hand under it, breathing out a little in relief as the frigid water rushed over it. The skin where the coffee had made contact with was red and angry, throbbing and still hot to the touch when he dried his hands off. Dan bit his lip and gave Mary a sheepish almost-smile as he threw out the ruined coffee.

"Don't worry, I'll have another one for you in a minute." he muttered, already starting to make it. He was favoring his right, non-burned hand because his left ached something fierce, but it was fine. Everything was fine.

Mary, however, was frowning.

"Daniel slow down, I'm not in a rush. And please, for heaven's sake stop using your hand! You just burned it! Why don't you take a break and find a bandage for it, hun?" she cried shooing her hand at Dan from behind the counter as if to make him stop working herself.

Dan chewed at his lip again, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. He could technically take a break any time he needed if he was injured, and there was definitely a first-aid kit in the employee break room, but then again, Steve would probably give him hell over taking an unscheduled break, if anything call up his uncle after their shift and give him an earful about Dan "being clumsy" and "costing the business money". He looked down at his hand and noted the aggravated skin and dull pain, and decided he could make it until lunch. He could properly address it then—surely a few hours without care wouldn't be catastrophic.

"If you keep it up like that then you're only going to injure yourself more. Besides, I need to give that other young man a talking to that was no way to act." Mary continued, huffing and already looking past Dan as if she was trying to find Steve and chew his ear out for being a douche. The mental image made Dan smile, and he turned his attention back to her as he took his injured left hand off of the coffee machine.

"Hey, it's no problem, I've burned myself before." The last time being back during training, probably. "And don't worry, Mary, we've got bandages in the back." That Jaime would 100% let me go get, the only problem being that Jaime isn't here. "I'll fix myself up after I help you with your coffee." A few hours later, that is, but who's counting?

Mary didn't look convinced, but only set her lips in a tight line and watched carefully as Dan finished making her her replacement coffee like she would vault the counter and help him herself if Dan so much as injured himself even a tiny bit further.

After another stern warning to take care of himself and a death glare in Steve's direction, Mary shuffled her way out. Dan gave her a little wave and kept the small smile on his face until she was gone. However, immediately afterwards he let his smile slip and double-timed it over to the little door that separated the public from where the employees made coffee. He passed Steve, and when he gave Dan an incredulous look, Dan just pushed past him, giving him a bullshit excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

And, technically, Steve couldn't complain about that, so, fucking suck it, Steve.

Dan shoved the door open with his shoulder and let out a breath of relief when there turned out to be no one else in there. He went immediately to a stall and locked the door, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and before he could google information on burns via coffee, his eyes caught on several text notifications.

>> From: my maraschino cherry

hey dan, look i know this kind of sucks but im kinda having a crisis? u remember that acting role i was going for right? well i got a call-back (!!!) and its in a few hours and i cant come in to work today

i tried to sweet talk the boss into it NOT being steve but idk if it worked

also

answer ur phone stupid i didnt want to type all of this

plus i might have wanted to gush with u via phone but whatevs

anyways im stopping by on my way back later like probs around dinner so u know my pizza toppings and we're going to iron shit out we've got a lot to talk abt danny boy

(also get some ice cream in case this doesnt go well kay ty)

The timestamp read to be somewhere around the time that Dan got up this morning, so as it turned out, yes, Jaime did tell him that she wasn't coming into work today, and he would have known that if he had only looked at his damn phone.

Dan read over the texts again and felt his heart surge for his best friend. Jaime had wanted to be a thriving actress since she was three, and so far had only gotten as far as school plays and extremely minor parts in bust shows. It was a dream that the both of them shared, but unlike Dan, Jaime was still going for it.

She auditioned for every opportunity that she got. Movies, plays, shows, anything. Sometimes, like now, she would get call-backs, but more times than not she wouldn't hear anything back. It wasn't because of her lack of talent, but mainly due to large productions looking for people that were already known, as much bullshit as it may be.

Dan remembered this one that she was going for. It was a musical that had so far received decent press and attention, and if Jaime could land a significant part in it, it could potentially help her career as an actress take off.

Smiling widely, Dan typed out a few texts congratulating her and wishing her the best of luck even if by now she would probably be mid-audition. He also readily promised the pizza and ice cream, but not after making sure to tell her that she wouldn't need it, because she was going to do great.

Dan looked at the clock on his phone, and sighed before slipping it away. If he spent any longer in the bathroom, it might start to look a tad suspicious to Steve, so he might as well avoid the WebMD diagnosis of his death-via-coffee-burn until lunch.

He exited the stall and caught his own eye in the mirror, fixing his blue hair under his hat so it didn't look too much of a mess before slipping back out of the bathroom and returning to his position behind the counter. Steve was in the middle of making a frowning CEO-looking guy his coffee, and there was luckily no one else in the queue.

"About time you got back. Damn you take longer than a girl." Steve muttered just loud enough for Dan to hear as he passed him. Dan bristled, but like normal didn't say anything back. He just took a deep breath and smiled at the mum and her young kids walking through the door and up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

~~~~~

"Dan, why don't you make yourself useful and go wipe down the counter, yeah? My uncle isn't paying you to stand around and do nothing all day."

Gritting his teeth impossibly hard, Dan stomped over to the counter in question (that he had cleaned twice already today, and it was barely even noon), both of his hands in tight fists, one of them strangling the cleaning rag.

The few moments of calm and secondhand happiness for Jaime that he had had in the bathroom ended up carrying him over for an hour before he just sunk right back down to his previous state of miserableness from before. But that was a few hours ago. Now, he was seething and tired and about ready to snap.

He started to hate-clean the self-serve counter, roughly putting things back where they went after he wiped the surface down, and refilling the sugar so aggressively a uni student veered away from him with wide eyes.

Dan didn't give a flying fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was nearly finished when a hand touched his arm. Immediately he tore away from the hand and threw down the rag, spinning around and already opening his mouth to just fucking scream at Steve because damnit Dan could take the verbal abuse but he would bring hell before he let Steve put his hands on him. He nearly choked when he found Phil standing there with concerned eyes, his hand still outstretched from where Dan ripped away from it.

"Dan?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together, "Are you okay?"

The fight in Dan just...drained out of him and he let out a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders droop and head fall. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped at the strands, messing it up and rucking up the hat on his head.

"Yeah I just…" He let the words fade, not even having the energy to try and come up with a summary of his morning brief enough that wouldn't worry Phil further.

Phil looked like he wanted to wrap Dan up in his arms and Dan honestly would have welcomed it, but in the universe's normal fashion, the chance went up in flames with a shout from Steve behind him.

"Dan, I'm going out for a cigarette, take over!" Steve called, not even waiting for Dan to acknowledge him and making straight for the door outside after walking right past the massive line of people waiting for service.

Swearing under his breath, Dan rushed past Phil to get behind the counter, helplessly giving Phil an apology over his shoulder.

By using probably all of his luck for the next year, Dan was able to give the half a dozen people in the queue their coffees without spilling a single one of them and in a relatively timely fashion, only one of the customers becoming annoyed with the slower than normal service.

That's what happens when there's only one person working the counter, asshat.

Dan ran up the latest person on the register and automatically started to run up another sale when someone else stepped up to the register. Dan put the money he had been handed from the last customer in the register tray as he half-heartedly greeted whoever was in line now.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw the cleaning rag he had completely forgotten about and left behind plop down onto the counter and held back a sigh. If he was going to have a customer chew him a new one for accidentally leaving a rag out he was going to quit on the spot.

"Yes, I need you to take a break."

Dan breathed out as he recognized the voice. Phil. Of course, always Phil.

Dan laughed a little.

"If only, Phil."

"Dan…"

The tone of Phil's voice made Dan look up. Phil had the same look as before, but it was darkened by anger. Dan felt his stomach drop. Was Phil mad at him for something? What did he do?

Dan must have been too exhausted to try and mask his emotions because Phil sighed and grabbed Dan's hand over the counter.

"I'm not mad at you. Is that 'the guy' from earlier—the asshole Steve you were telling me about?"

The feeling of Phil's thumb dragging over Dan's knuckles was normally so soothing, but Phil had grabbed Dan's left one, also known as the hand that Dan had aggressively burned earlier thanks to his wonderful coworker. Hissing under his breath as Phil's gentle touch sent pain shooting up his arm, Dan withdrew his hand hastily. Phil looked hurt and surprised, but his gaze fell on Dan's burned hand and his gaze once again darkened. Dan wanted to cry but instead just shut Phil down from asking about it by hastily replying.

"Yeah. Jaime's at an audition, so she's not in today."

The bell above the door ran once again, and Dan pulled away further, reluctantly ready to deal with more customers. However, Steve walked through the opening, and Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved at the prospect of not having to fill another order, or resigned to the end of his brief break from Steve.

Phil, however, brightened immediately and plastered on a fake smile.

"Ah, you must be Steve! Cool, Dan can take his lunch break now that you're back." And before Dan could try and tell Phil that that really wasn't how things worked, Phil was already reaching over the counter and stealing Dan's pin and apron, shoving them into Steve's arms with a bright smile. Steve sputtered, protesting, but Phil just straight up ignored him, turning to Dan and beckoning him. In a sort-of daze, Dan followed, and once he was out from behind the counter, Phil grabbed his non-burned hand and pulled him out the door of the coffee shop.

Phil gave Dan's hand a squeeze and looked back at him, his eyebrow once again knit and frowning. His eyes roved over Dan's frame, taking in his exhausted stature and overall ragged state of being. He frowned further and reached up, plucking the hat off of Dan's head.

"You shouldn't hide your hair."

Satisfied at the moment, Phil's attention shifted, and he hailed a taxi, opening the door for Dan and sliding in next to him, leaning up and telling the driver an address that Dan didn't quite hear before settling back into the seat. He draped his arm over Dan's shoulders and pulled the younger man into his side. Dan went willingly.

"Phil, where are we going? I'm still going to have to get back for the other half of my shift." He muttered, trying to will his body to relax.

"We're going home to my flat because you need a break. And don't worry, I'll have you back, but not after you get in some proper rest."

Dan tried to protest at that, because really, Phil didn't need to spend the money for a taxi just for a half and hour before Dan would have to go back, but Phil wouldn't hear it, just shushing him every time Dan tried to point out how they could have just stayed at the shop and that he wasn't worth the trouble.  

"There would be no way that you could properly relax while in the same place as him. And besides this saves me from getting arrested for assault and buying a coffee just to dump on his head." Phil glowered as if the mere thought of Steve upset him, and Dan laughed, imagining passive Phil dumping a coffee on anyone.

"Don't laugh, someone has to defend your honor, Dan."

"Well thanks for assuming I have honor, you spoon," Dan laughed, bumping their shoulders together playfully. He still felt tired and drained as hell, but Dan felt a little bit better than he had been. Progress.

They were at Phil's flat in no time, Phil paying for the taxi despite Dan's protests and leading Dan up the steps afterwards.

Phil's flat was just as it was when Dan had last been in, and Dan kicked his shoes off at the door like he had last time before flopping face-first on the couch. He heard Phil move around in the flat for a few moments before Phil returned to the lounge. Dan didn't lift his head up from where it was shoved into the couch, but he did relax, even as Phil rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I see your hand? I have a bandage and some cream that should help you."

Dan wordlessly lifted his hand up, unsure of where Phil was standing over him since Dan was trying very hard to become one with the couch at the moment, but Phil just grabbed his hand by the wrist as gently as possible, leading it over and resting it palm down on Phil's knee. Curious, Dan unburied his head from the cushions and turned it. Phil was sitting on the table, a look of careful and intense concentration on his face as he grabbed the tube of cream, squeezing some out onto his fingers and massaging it into Dan's skin. It didn't hurt—Phil was too gentle for that—but Dan could still feel his face heating up and his breath catch a little.

It had been awhile since he had been treated like something precious.

He watched as Phil worked, and laughed as Phil rubbed the excess cream on his fingers onto his jeans with a grimace. Phil grabbed the little roll of gauze and started to wrap up Dan's hand, glancing up with a pout.

"Here I am, sacrificing my jeans to make you feel better and you're laughing at me. Remind me why I love you."

The comment was a passing thought, obviously not meant to be taken with too much weight, but it still had Dan's heart skip a what was probably a few beats in his chest. He knew that Phil didn't mean it like that, but the notion that he did still warmed Dan's body all over and had him smiling as he watched Phil bandage his hand.

When Phil was finished, he dropped a kiss onto Dan's knuckles.

"There we go, all better."

Phil left everything on the table and stood, walking out of his lounge and to his kitchen. Dan could hear him shuffling about—opening cabinets and rifling through the contents in his fridge.

"I've been putting off a trip to Tesco's for about a week now, so how does unhealthy snacks sound for lunch? Or we could always venture out and try to find something?"

Dan smiled even though he was alone in the lounge. Phil was offering up the opportunity to have a legitimate meal, but didn't he know by now that Dan would much rather hole up and eat junk, just the two of them?

"Bring on the snacks, Lester."

Phil came back with an armful of various snacks, and Dan peeled himself up off the couch so Phil didn't have to sit on top of him. Dan cheered when he saw that Phil had his favorite flavor of crisps and stole them from Phil with a wide grin. Phil pouted—or at least tried to—but Dan could see the smile peeking out as he turned on the TV. Phil flipped through the channels until they found a movie on that was worth watching for the little bit of time that they had until Dan had to get back to work, and settled back, sneaking a few crisps from Dan while he was at it.

They're sides were pressed completely together with how they were sitting, and even if he ended up getting a few stains on his shirt because he couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a napkin, or whining when Phil dragged him out of the flat and back to work, or pouting in the taxi ride back to the coffee shop, Dan was still soaking up all of Phil's time and attention, loving having him near enough to hold his hand and kiss him.

Dan ignored the glare from Steve as he walked back behind the counter, even shooting the guy a smile as he fitted the hat back on over his hair.

"You can take your lunch break now, thanks for covering."

Steve looked insanely suspicious and overall pissed, but Dan didn't care. His spirits were renewed and he felt refreshed. He could last the rest of his shift, no problem.

Dan smiled at the lady walking up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

#phanfiction #phanfic #dan and phil #phan #fluff #angst #ace!dan #weatherman!phil #protective!phil #dan howell #phil lester #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 13 #chaptered #allyssaTM #my fics #au

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: chapter 11

@dansyellowshirt I have a new chapter and it made me cRY writing it just ask my bff I gave myself FeelingsTM but enjoy everyone I queued this just for yall

Tags for chapter: angst, fluff, aphobia, internalized aphobia

Words for chapter: ~4.6k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan finally closed the door on his flat, it was nearing five in the morning. Jaime had tried to convince him to stay over because of Dan's high strung emotions as well as the fact that it was a ridiculous time in the morning and Dan hadn't had any sleep, but he had refused. After a teary "bye" and another bear hug, Dan had found himself walking down the pavement in the vague direction of his flat, head down, mind wandering.

By the time that his feet had brought him to the door of his apartment complex, he felt squeezed, as if he was being pushed into a mold that he couldn't fill.

Dan kicked off his shoes and left them haphazardly by the door as well as missing the hook on the wall for his jacket, but not even bothering to pick it up from the floor. He would probably end up tripping over his mess later and regret not fixing it, but he couldn't give a rat's ass at the moment.

He stripped himself of his clothes once he got to his bedroom and dragged a pair of pajama bottoms over his legs and a loose shirt with a wide cut that sometimes slipped over his collarbones, but was comfortable.

Dan resisted the urge to flop into his bed right then and there—he was exhausted—and kicked his dirty clothes out of the way as he walked back out of his bedroom. Dan might want to just curl up in a ball at cease to exist at the moment, but he would hate himself a lot more later if he didn't even try and perform some kind of personal hygiene. And brushing his teeth would go a long ways in the direction of un-fucking tomorrow morning. Or later this morning, actually.

He flicked on the light and just blinked a few times to adjust to the bright-as-hell fluorescent bulb he had for some godforsaken reason. When he looked in the mirror, however, he nearly dropped the toothbrush in his hand and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. He was staring at his reflection, mouth open, eyes wide, and he could see the shock on his face, but he also wasn't paying much attention to it because his hair, jesus christ.

It wasn't like Jaime's hair, which was practically neon because her hair had been bleached while Dan's hadn't, but it didn't seem to matter as much as Jaime had thought, because it still looked good. His hair was curly due to not being given a chance to straighten it after Jaime had washed the dye out, but his normally brown curls were replaced by midnight-ish blue ones. Dan ran a hand through it, still in a bit of disbelief. When Jaime had finished with his hair, he hadn't looked in a mirror or asked for a picture. Instead, they had just rubbed a towel on Dan's hair to keep it from dripping and fell on the couch, where they talked and cried and laughed for a little bit. Dan stared at his reflection for a few moments, feeling time tick by with the beat of his heart.

Then, he laughed, the sound bubbling up from his throat as he tugged lightly at his curls. His blue curls. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, but he was smiling ridiculously at his reflection and laughing; it didn't make too much sense to him.

"Maybe I'm finally losing it," he muttered, looking for the toothpaste in the cabinet that hung above his sink.

A few minutes later after removing the gross feeling of his mouth and playing with his hair a little more, Dan crawled into bed, the need to rest sinking deep into his bones. He rolled over and grabbed his phone on the nightstand where he had left it when he was getting dressed. Dan plugged it in, and when the screen lit up in its normal fashion whenever it was charging he couldn't help but see the several text notifications he had.

Frowning, Dan unlocked the phone and clicked on his messenger app, which promptly showed texts from Jaime and...Phil.

Biting his lip, Dan clicked on Jaime's name. Her text was short and sweet and completely to the point, but Dan still couldn't help the warm feeling that blossomed from his chest. He typed out a reply and sent it.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

i took u off the schedule for work later today

so dont worry abt coming to work kay? and

take some time out for yourself alright? u

deserve a break

>>To: my maraschino cherry

tysm jaime i'll make it up to u, promise

<333

Her little three bubbles popped up immediately, and he nearly started crying at her reply, that's how fragile he was at the moment.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

<333

Really. A typed out heart had no reason to pull at his heart so much. It wasn't fair.

Dan backed out of he and Jaime's text conversation, and he was confronted with Phil's waiting texts, blinking up at him seemingly angrily. His thumb hovered over the screen and Dan's heart was pounding in his ears. He tried to imagine what Phil had texted him, and how much he had apparently felt so strongly about it, for there were eleven texts from the one and only Phil Lester.

He's probably telling you that he doesn't want anything thing like that from you anymore, and how you're a fucking freak, idiot. What else would he or anyone else have to say?

Dan swallowed thickly and clicked the screen off, dropping the phone on his nightstand like it had burned him. He could deal with it tomorrow.

~~~~~

Dan slept fitfully, tossing and turning and barely being able to stay unconscious for an hour. His dreams weren't helping matters, either. He kept having nightmares over his ex-girlfriend, snarling at him in disgust after he had tried to explain it. He kept seeing that afternoon, Dan sitting on her bed, she standing over him, her mouth moving, her words booming from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, rattling inside Dan's eardrums and taking a sledgehammer to his heart. Except, her voice and face were Phil's. And then before Dan knew it it was Phil, telling him everything he had been trying to convince himself wasn't true since...well, since everyone he knew told him it was.

Freak.

Unnatural.

Confused.

After a handful of hours of the back and forth that he just couldn't stand anymore, Dan crawled out of bed at around noon, only a few hours of collective sleep in his system. He stumbled into his kitchen, his duvet bunched around his body. Dan grabbed the box of cereal he had on his counter and just shuffled into his tiny lounge, dropping himself onto the sofa immediately and sighing as he settled into his sofa crease. Dan flicked on Netflix and opened the box while he was waiting. He stuffed a fist-ful of dry cereal into his mouth as he flicked through his options. Thank god for reality TV, Dan thought as he selected some new Netflix original, and thank god for people with just as shitty lives as mine having a TV crew to record it.

Several hours and numerous episodes of his show later, there was a knock on his door.

Dan was curled up in a ball on his couch, his monochrome duvet still wrapped tight around his body like a cocoon. The box of Crunchy Nut had fallen to the floor close to an hour ago, and Dan didn't care. He hadn't even really eaten much of it anyways.

After a few seconds, the knock sounded again, just as insistent and obnoxiously loud as before. Damn, don't they know that some people are trying to mope, Dan humorlessly thought, craning his neck to look at his front door.

It returned, but this time it sounded as if whoever it was was using their fist to pound at the door. Dan groaned and cursed the inevitable determined-as-hell salesman at his door. He dragged himself to his feet and thought about shedding his duvet to keep the remaining shred of his dignity intact, but with the pounding having yet to stop, he threw the thought out the goddamn window. What the fuck did he have to lose?

The noise continued, refusing to let up even for a moment, and Dan once again wished that whoever was behind the door would go jump off a damn cliff.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Dan shouted, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob after sliding back the lock and yanking the door open. His mouth was already open to lay into whoever it was, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

Phil was standing there, incredibly close to the doorframe, his hand still raised to continue trying to beat Dan's door in. His breathing was slightly irregular and his eyes were wide, hair in a complete disarray. Phil was in his Tesco employee uniform, but it was rumped as hell as if he was coming straight from one of his shifts.

"Dan," Phil breathed. He sounded so so relieved, but the relief was dripping with a thousand other emotions tangled together, and there was no way that Dan could try and pull them all apart.

Phil swallowed, and flicked his eyes over every inch of Dan—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his shoulders, his partially hidden legs, his feet, everywhere. Reflexively, Dan knew that his skin should be crawling, but the feeling never came, and Dan realized a second later that it was because Phil's gaze wasn't looking for anything like that. It wasn't that kind of hungry. It drank in the sight of Dan like he was never going to be able to again. And Dan didn't know how it made him feel.

"I need to talk to you." Phil said, finally snapping out of it and looking Dan in the eyes. He sounded desperate, and his blue blue eyes were pleading.

Dan's heart was pounding and he wanted to say no just as much as he wanted to say yes. He didn't trust his mouth, and for once he managed to keep it clamped shut. Last time he and Phil had been together and how he had just blurted it out was enough proof. So Dan just stepped back and let his front door swing open a fraction of a degree more than it had been a few seconds ago. Magically, a massive amount of tension melted off of Phil's shoulders and he stepped through the opening and into Dan's flat.

He closed the door, and at this point, Dan's anxiety was in full swing, starting to wreak havoc in his head. Dan just clutched his duvet tighter in his hands and let his shaky legs take him back into the lounge. He sat on the couch, and Phil sat himself down too, on the opposite side. Dan stared at the stitching in the fabric on his cushions, and he could feel Phil's gaze on him. They were both silent.

"If you're going to yell at me, just do it, please," Dan whispered. He didn't lift his eyes.

"Yell at you? Why would I ever?" Phil said immediately. He sounded appalled.

"Running out, kissing you, being, well, me," Dan said, his right hand emerging from his duvet to gesture to himself, "among others. I've certainly given you enough reasons, I'm sure."

Phil didn't say anything, and Dan just sank lower and lower in on himself.

"Dan I...where did you...why would you think I would yell at you?"

Dan shrugged.

"That's what everyone does." The when I tell them I'm asexual was left unsaid, but Dan had the feeling that Phil understood.

Dan was expecting virtually anything at that moment, but in normal Phil fashion, Phil surprised him.

"Dan, did you see my texts earlier?"

"No…?" Dan said, his confusion making him look up. Why the hell did a few texts matter right now? Phil didn't even meet his gaze, he was standing so fast, practically jumping off the couch and looking around.

"Where's your phone?"

"In my bedroom but why do you—Phil!"

Phil took off right down the hallway, looking left and right for Dan's bedroom and finding it, disappearing for a few seconds before re-emerging and marching straight to where Dan was still sitting. Phil shoved the phone towards Dan after he sat back down.

"Unlock it, please."

"Phil, I-"

"Dan, please."

Helpless to the desperation and unfacilitated emotion in Phil's voice, Dan robotically tapped in the five-digit passcode he had on his phone. It unlocked and Phil grabbed the phone back, tapping a few times in quick succession.

"Phil, what-"

Phil just pushed the phone right back into Dan's hands. On the screen, Phil's texts were pulled up. Once again, Dan tried to speak, but Phil just cut him off.

"Dan, read them, please for the love of god read the fucking texts." Eyes wide, Dan looked down at his phone.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please come back

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan? Where are you? Are you safe? Please

tell me you're alright.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please I'm worried sick

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

It's really late right now, 3am actually, and

you left hours ago but damnit Dan I haven't

been able to focus on anything since you

left. I cant even sleep.

Im worried abt you and want nothing more

to talk to you right now but you arent answering

your texts and I cant even really blame you

you looked so scared when you blurted out

that you were asexual I wanted to cry FOR

you

And you being asexual is okay! Believe me, I

promise I have no prob with it, I would be a shitty

person if I did, and all of the people out there that

DO have a prob with it are shitty

But Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, I really wish you hadn't

run out on me, you know? oh, well I guess you

dont know, thats why you ran out huh...well

whenever you read this, you'll know

There is not one part of I, Philip Michael Lester,

that gives a shit if you are asexual. You are you

and to be frank I wouldnt have you any other way

than how I know you. Youre asexual. Okay. The

only thing that has changed is my level of

understanding of you bc now I just idk know more

abt you

Youre funny and sarcastic and cynical and insanely

kind even tho you have that big bad exterior and you

have a goddamn heart of gold Dan, and since things

are potentially already fucked between us, I'm just

gonna come right out and say it - I'm fucking head

over heels for you, Dan, every part of you, and YES

that means the asexual part of you too so dont even

try and let your head tell you otherwise

Like I said I've fallen so hard for you, okay? When we

kissed i stg it was like a daydream of mine coming true

right before my freaking eyes, Dan. Youre someone

truly incredible and goddamn i would love to be a part

of your life, as sex free as freaking possible in any way

you would have me.

This got really long and I hope youre not responding bc

youre sleeping but Dan please call me whenever you

read these okay? I dont want you to think that I could

hate you or anything bc of your sexuality bc that couldnt

be further from the truth

Dan looked up from the phone screen, and he could feel the streams of tears on his face. He hiccuped, and Phil had tears in his eyes as well, and such a pained look on his face.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice tight. Dan nodded hurriedly, and Phil wasted no time, scooting forward and instantly wrapping his long arms right around Dan, pulling him into his lap. Dan started to sob, and Phil clung to him.

"I don't find you disgusting, or shameful, or wrong, or broken, or anything, Dan, anything but who you are. You're asexual and you're you and I would never, never, want you to be someone else. I'm so sorry you had to hide. I'm so sorry you got scared and I fucking hate whatever and whoever made you so terrified to be yourself." Phil said, sniffling himself. "Please believe me, Dan." Phil whispered. Dan nodded, his head pressed against Phil's shoulder. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth wasn't working and his brain had shut down and he was crying.

Phil held him as he cried, almost just like how Jaime had been holding him not too long ago. And when the tears stopped, Phil just continued to rub Dan's back. They didn't say anything, and part of Dan was grateful for that, but the other part of him wanted to try and tell Phil a thousand things at once. His brain was stuck like a broken record player, a mantra of Phil Phil Phil bouncing around his skull. He was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, Phil didn't hate him, he didn't.

And in that moment, Dan was reminded of the ghosts of his past. And he wanted to tell. He suddenly craved spilling it all out for Phil, leaving himself bare and open and pushing all of the secrets Dan has held inside of him for so long out in the open.

"It started with my ex."

Dan felt Phil shift his position underneath him but Phil didn't let go of Dan once. He took a deep breath and continued. "She and I had been friends, and we eventually started dating. It was nice, and she was great, real lovely and sweet and kind. We went on a few dates and held hands and kissed a few times—all that stuff. We started going steady, and seven months in and a few times of trying on her end, she convinced me to have sex with her." Dan said, starting to pick at a string on his duvet. "I did it mainly because I wanted to make her happy, and because I thought that I always felt so off about sex due to never having it. I didn't know that something like asexuality existed. I didn't like it, hated it in fact, and by the end of it, I was trying to balance a panic attack. I ended up leaving after a few minutes to 'clean up'," Dan made little quotes with his hands, "but when I got to the bathroom I threw up and panicked."

Dan stopped and licked his lips. He hated reliving it, but at the same time he wanted to talk about it with Phil, he wanted Phil to know everything about him. God, Dan was even confusing to himself.

"It was my first time, but I don't think it was hers, and after I came back we cuddled and watched some movies and stuff. She didn't seem to realize that anything was wrong. After that sex became something normal in our relationship. She would always initiate it, and I would never say no, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this time would be the time when my head and my body got the message that I was supposed to like this. But it never happened and months passed and I just kept getting more and more depressed and anxious. I started making up excuses to get out of it, and when she called me out on it, claiming that I didn't love her anymore, I told her that I was asexual. I wasn't really confident in my label because I had found it only for a few weeks at that point, but after I kind of explained how I hated sex with her and felt disgusting and threw up and was so so anxious, she got quiet. And then…" Dan swallowed, "and then she started yelling. She told me that I was lying, that there was no thing such as asexuality, and that I was just making stuff up at that point. She said...a lot of other stuff too."

"Can I ask what?" Phil said, his voice just as much of a whisper as Dan's. It wavered, and there was something tight and emotional in it. Dan nodded.

"After I kept trying to convince her that I was asexual and that it was real, she changed tactics. She broke up with me on the spot and told me that I was a freak and that there was something wrong and broken with me. She told me that no one would ever love me if I didn't give anyone sex. That I could just...die alone and 'like I should'. She said that too, the whole, 'like I should' thing. And then she kicked me out of her house and told me she never wanted to see me again."

When Dan finished, Phil moved his hands to Dan's shoulders and tugged gently, pulling Dan's head away from the crook of Phil's neck that it had been resting in. He was frowning heavily.

"You don't believe that, right?"

Dan shrugged. He didn't know how to tell Phil the truth, but he was sure that Phil could see how he was blinking back tears. Fuck, his past hurt.

Phil's frown just got deeper, and his head jerked, as if he had wanted to move it forward but decided against it at the last moment.

"Promise me you'll deck me if I make you uncomfortable, okay?"

"Phil?"

"Just promise."

"Okay…" Dan said warily. Phil nodded, and leaned forward, kissing Dan's forehead.

"You aren't a freak."

Phil's lips moved to Dan's temple.

"You aren't broken."

His cheek.

"You aren't wrong or unnatural."

A kiss on his nose.

"No one that actually matters wouldn't love you just because you're ace."

Dan's other cheek.

"And you won't die alone because you don't 'deserve' that."

Phil pulled back fully, and fuck, Dan felt like he could start crying again. Phil rubbed his thumb over Dan's cheekbone, the rest of his hand cupping Dan's jaw, and Dan leaned into the touch.

"Was she the only one you've ever told?"

"No, I told you, and Jaime, and my parents. All of my friends and schoolmates found out too, but I didn't tell them. She told them."

Phil frowned.

"Did none of them seriously accept you?"

Dan laughed humorlessly. "No, not one. From then on I was the laughing stock of the whole fucking school. A teenage boy who throws up after sex? Pathetic. I was asking for all of the assholes that picked on me afterwards. And it's not like I have the best track record with people actually thinking that I'm not, you know, a freak. My mum started crying after I told her, like I had just said I was dying from some terminal disease. And my dad straight up threw me out after he was through screaming at me. I ended up sneaking back in after they had gone to bed to grab a bag full of stuff and all of the money I could carry, so I wasn't that bad off, but it took me a few days to move down here and find a place to stay." Dan gestured to the flat they were in. "I then got the first job I could find, which was the one down at the coffee shop and I met Jaime, thank god. Thankfully I told them after I had finished school, though I didn't get the chance to go to uni like I planned. Two years later, I'm still in the same spot I crashed in." Dan's voice was raw and there were a few tears making their way down his face, but Phil would just wipe them away with his fingers.

"How long has Jaime known?"

"Not very. Last night after I ran out on you I ended up at her place and broke down and told her. She accepted me, don't worry, and we ended up crying in her kitchen together. It's also where she and I did this," Dan said, pointing to his hair. Phil smirked and ran his fingers through it.

"I noticed the hair, believe me, it was one of the first things my eyes went to when you opened your door. I just had much more pressing things to try and hopefully work out with you than your sudden hair change."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Phil said, his hand once again dragging its way through Dan's curls that he had yet to tame. Dan melted into the contact and felt his body relax, sighing happily.

"This is okay, right?"

Dan nodded, still feeling very content with Phil's hands raking through his hair.

"Mhm, definitely. Kissing, hugging, cuddling and all that is okay because none of it is sex. And god playing with my hair is at the top of the list." Dan blurted out. He felt his face grow red instantly from his confession, and Phil laughed.

"Guess I know your kryptonite, then. Though Dan, I have another question, if you don't mind."

Dan's stomach dropped and he felt fear crawl up his spine no matter how much he couldn't help it. It was his gut reaction and Dan suspected that he would still need quite a while to get over it.

"Ask away."

"Did you get any sleep last night because I also noticed your horrendous eye bags."

Dan gasped and shoved Phil's shoulder, who started to giggle, a hand coming up in front of his mouth. Dan tried to keep up his annoyed charade, but his face cracked into a smile in no time and then he was laughing right along with Phil, the tense air that had been between them ever since Phil showed up to his door dissipating into something much more natural and much more...them.

"Okay okay, but seriously, Dan you look bloody exhausted."

"And? You don't look that much better, Philly." Dan rolled his eyes, but Phil just poked him. "Oi. I slept a little before I went nuts texting you, and then I got a handful of hours in after too. How about you, huh?" Phil poked Dan again.

"Fine, if you must know, I think I got a few in total, but I don't know, exactly. I had trouble staying asleep and well, I gave up after a little." Dan said, shrugging.

"Dan!"

"What? I was distressed! I deserve a free pass!" Dan cried. The playful attitude between them was still there, which Dan was grateful for. Phil hummed and wrapped his arms back around Dan, but he used their combined body weight to roll back. Dan was laying on top of Phil like this, and Phil's arms were still around him.

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I like it. Now sleep. You need it."

"Phil I can't just sleep on demand like that."

"Yes you can, now shush, and sleep."

"Phil!" Dan whined, squirming a little but not trying very hard to break free of Phil's grasp. "What if I'm not tired? And besides, don't we still have to talk about stuff? Like us—if there is an us—and maybe me if you have other questions still, or-"

"Shhhh" Phil said, pressing a finger to Dan's lips. "We're not talking about anything else until you get some sleep, Dan." Phil said. Dan rolled his eyes, but he also sunk into Phil's embrace. It felt nice to be held.

They fell into silence, but it was comfortable and familiar. Sooner than Dan might have liked to admit, he started to feel his eyes droop, his exhaustion from the past two days catching up with him.

"Sleep, Dan," Phil whispered, one of his hands playing with Dan's hair, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Dan smiled, and let his eyes close.

#me? using my queue? more likely than you think #phanfiction #phanfic #ace!dan #weatherman!phil #au #chaptered #fluff #angst #tw aphobia #phan #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 11 #my fics #allyssaTM

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 12

HI YALL IVE GOT A NEW CHAPTER OUT OF THE BLUE THAT I JUST WROTE BC @dansyellowshirt AND AN ANON WERE LOVELY AND MADE ME SMILE SO IVE BEEN TYPING FURIOUSLY FOR THE PAST HOUR OR SO ENJOYYYY

Tags for chapter: F L U F F, kissing

Words for chapter: ~2.7k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

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~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan woke up it was dark in his flat. The television was off—which was not how Dan remembered leaving it—and none of his lights were on. The only source of light in the whole flat were the blinds on his big window being drawn, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving everything the softest edge.

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was awake, shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the fuck was he?

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very human sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream. What the fucking hell-

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one.

What the goddamn hell-

Oh.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out.

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain whatever this was.

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner.

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the fuck had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but still as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable.

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still.

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a welcome change.

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much better. If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

~~~~~

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open.

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was alone on said sofa.

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore.

Did he leave?

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground.

"Phil?"

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling.

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide.

"Dan! You scared me!"

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really."

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-"

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of my cereal?"

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him.

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch."

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!"

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened after. Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil?

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities.

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

He had to know.

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation.

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head.

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's.

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration.

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely melting under the kisses Phil was giving him.

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw.

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles.

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we certainly should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you deserve. If we were to date—and god, do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd never be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care. I don't care. I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you can love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long."

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together.

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own.

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man sooner?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but fuck it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt. So. Loved. And. Accepted.

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere.

Phil's entire face lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other.

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

~~~~~

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately.

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

#phanfiction #phanfic #my fics #dan howell #phil lester #ace!dan #weatherman!phil #au #i dare you to stay #fluff #kissing #chaptered #i dare you to stay: chapter 12 #allyssaTM #phan

[phan-of-the-pen]

I decided to rewatch the easter baking vid and this moodboard happened. I identify with all of these valid versions of phil, i dunno abt you

dan version

#phil lester #amazingphil #im like literally all of these at once lkajfhakljfhak #baking video #dan and phil #easter baking #dan howell #allyssaTM