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succubusphan · 9 months

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Two Man Team - Chapter 6

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, Friends with benefits, mental health issues (mainly anxiety), Slow burn, Dan is a psych student. Canon divergence (the timeline is altered and some things never happened), Slutty Phil, Angst with a happy ending. The fic spans many years.

Author's Note: Written for the OSPBB 2023 @oldschoolpbb. Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual and to my artist Lin @anironsidh.

Edits and the art will be added at some point, we are busy bees.

POSTING EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S COMPLETED.

Total Word Count: 75k ish

Read on Ao3

CHAPTER 6: The Winner Takes It All

2012

They didn’t speak or text until mid-January, when Dan just showed up at Phil’s flat one day, dark circles so deep that reminded him of Jack Skellington. He looked sick.

Phil stood there in silence, not knowing what to do until Dan pulled him into a hug and started crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Dan.

“Everything,” Dan muttered, his voice cracking. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Uh, sure,” Phil said, feeling weird about it. Both because he didn’t know where they stood at the moment and because Dan had never asked that before, he’d always just stayed.

They walked inside and Phil started making tea, not because he wanted one but because he needed to collect himself. “So… what’s been going on with you?” He asked, his back still turned to Dan.

“I can’t do anything right,” Dan said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I can’t stick to my schedule, I’m drowning in the material and I feel like everyone hates me right now.”

Phil let out a little frustrated sigh and turned to look at Dan. “I don’t hate you, Dan. I can’t speak for everyone, but I don’t,” he said. “Have you discussed it with your therapist?” Phil added before Dan could say anything.

“I haven’t been in over a month,” Dan said, avoiding his eyes and picking at his jeans. “I haven’t left my room either.”

Phil pressed his lips into a line but tried to be as gentle as possible, it was evident that Dan was still trying to calm himself down. “Why would you do that? Even therapists have therapists, you said it yourself years ago.”

“He said that I’m depressed and I don’t agree. I think this is just how I am. I’ve always struggled with the simplest of tasks, I’ve always been low. It’s just who I am.” Dan looked up, his eyes red and swollen; he’d been crying far longer than he’d been at Phil’s.

“What are the symptoms of depression?” Phil asked, knowing that he couldn’t argue on this, he needed to make Dan reach the conclusion on his own.

“Sadness, hopelessness, anger or frustration, even over small things, loss of interest in normal things like sex or hobbies, insomnia or sleeping too much, lack of energy, loss of appetite, anxiety, brain fog… Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures - or self-blame,” he said, his face slowly transforming as he went over the symptoms.

Phil hummed. “That does sound familiar, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” Dan admitted.

“So?” Phil pressed. “Why don’t you go to therapy?”

Dan frowned. “For the same reason that you haven’t gotten help for your anxiety disorder,” he said, a bit too harshly, but continuing in a calmer tone after a deep breath. “I guess I’m not ready yet.”

“That’s fair,” Phil said, ignoring the biting comment. “We need to come up with a plan of action then. I have always managed my anxiety with different methods, you were the one who came up with most of them. I’m meditating at the moment and it’s helping a bit - with the sleeping issues at least, have you tried it?”

Dan shook his head no. “I don’t think I can meditate myself out of depression, to be honest.”

“I know that, don’t be silly,” Phil waved him off. “I’m saying that you need a depression plan and that you can meditate when you feel anxious. You said they come together sometimes, right?”

Dan nodded. “Yeah, I do have some anxiety but it’s not my main issue.”

“Alright. What is your biggest problem right now?”

“Sleeping and getting to class.”

Phil added the tea bags into the mugs and poured the water over them, having the sugar and milk at the ready. He walked over to the coffee table and pulled a small notebook and a pen from the storage space under it. “So, you need to wake up at 8 to make it in time to Stats, you can study at Starbucks or the library for two hours and go to Personality. If you are too tired then, you can go back and take a nap before Intervention but I think you should drop Cognition and you can try again next semester.”

“But I’m doing well at Cognition. Cognitive Neuroscience is the hard one,” Dan said with a small smile, his eyebrows raised.

“Oh, right,” Phil said, slapping his forehead. “I always get them mixed.”

Dan raised his eyebrows at Phil but didn’t say a word.

“What? What’s that face?”

“You remember what classes I’m taking and when,” Dan said in wonder.

“Of course I do,” Phil scoffed. “I helped you plan your schedule.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d remember. Nobody remembers.”

“I remember,” Phil said with a small smile. He gave the notebook to Dan and went to get the mugs before the tea got too strong to drink. He added the sugar and milk, putting them back in their respective places and carried the mugs to the coffee table. “Here,” he said, handing the mug to Dan and sitting at his side.

“Thanks,” Dan said and took a sip and set the notebook on the sofa between them. “Just how I like it.”

Phil ignored the comment and grabbed the notebook, starting another page. They needed a more global approach. “So… you have Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays off in the morning. Let’s set some ground rules in general. Weekdays bed before 2am and wake up no later than 10.30. Also, be productive until 5 on weekdays. Anything you didn’t do during the week, finish it during the weekend and that’s when you take a break. You can sleep in until 1 on the weekends at least. What do you think?”

“Sounds good. I have a huge pile of laundry though.”

Phil huffed a laugh. “Do laundry here during the weekend and you can finish any homework while the washer runs. But you are doing the laundry, not me. And no mixing colours, I’m still wearing pink boxers.”

Dan snorted. “Ok, Dad.” He looked out the window for a moment and turned back to Phil. “What are we doing for your birth?”

“Are you coming?” Phil asked, raising one eyebrow at Dan.

“Of course I am!” Dan said, blushing just a little.

“Alright,” Phil smiled. “Small party here I guess but I have to go back home to celebrate with my family - and Richard and the others want to hang out the week after that.”

Dan laughed. “Why is your birthday always a month long affair?”

“Because my birth is an important date to commemorate. I’m important.”

“You are,” said Dan.

The sound of jingling keys at the door announced Mark before his melodic voice came through the hall. “Hey, love. I finally found some decent oranges for break- oh. Hi, Dan!” Mark said.

Phil rushed to help with the shop, grabbing the bags from Mark’s hands and setting them on the kitchen counter.

“It’s so nice to see you again, what brings you over?” Mark asked Dan, casually pressing a quick kiss to Phil’s lips and pulling him closer by the hips ever so slightly.

Phil mumbled a hello and gave Mark a wide-eyed look before peering at Dan out of the corner of his eye. He looked upset, perhaps even mad at the display. “Sorry,” Phil said, not really knowing why he was apologising or the reason Mark chose that particular moment to kiss him.

Dan shrugged and shook his head, his lips moving as he attempted to form words but no sound came out.

Dan was left speechless for the first time since Phil had met him.

Mark smiled widely, ignoring the others’ reactions. “Are you staying over for dinner, darling?” he asked Dan.

“Uh, sure,” Dan said.

“No laundry today?” Mark teased.

Phil shot him a look, Mark was going for something here, but he didn’t know what exactly or why. Dan had never mentioned doing his laundry at their flat in front of Mark so this made it evident that Phil had relayed this information to him. “No, we were just catching up. Why? Did you want to help out?” He ended the sentence with a tight smile, trying to silently tell Mark to quit it already.

“A tempting offer, but I think I’ll stick to cooking, you are the laundry specialist after all.”

“Ok. You do that, Dan and I will continue our conversation in my bedroom,” Phil said, and guided Dan away from the conflict. Once in his room, he shut the door and let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t want to intrude,” Dan said without even taking a seat. “I’m so sorry for showing up unannounced. Obviously you want to enjoy your night with your boyfriend - I should go.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Phil rushed to say when Dan took a step towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dan bit back, his voice rising with every word. “He hasn’t been your boyfriend since like 2009, he’s just the person you sleep with, live with, cook with and basically do everything with.”

“It’s not like that,” Phil said defensively, as he started to pace around the room. He felt like he’d been caught cheating even though he didn’t even have a boyfriend. He had a fuck buddy and a buddy he wanted to fuck but who didn’t reciprocate, none of which wanted to actually date him.

“What is it like then?” Dan snapped.

Phil froze and turned on the spot, feeling the fire coming out of his eyes. Dan had some nerve to be upset by a kiss when he hadn’t made any attempts to be exclusive with Phil or even to continue with any sort of intimacy, or even their friendship for that matter. He had become a ghost in Phil’s life and now he was upset that Phil had a smidge of attention from someone else. “You’re right, maybe you should leave. Take the plans we wrote down and work on that, and if you need to call someone at 3 am try Sam. See if they care to take your calls.”

Dan took a step back, looking as if he’d been slapped. He wasn’t used to Phil saying no to him. Phil was always there for Dan, unlike Dan who liked to come and go out of his life as he pleased. “Phil, I’m sorry.”

“Ok,” Phil said in a robotic tone.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Dan admitted.

“Neither do I,” Phil conceded. “Just go, we’ll talk soon.”

“I still want to celebrate your birthday - if you still want to,” Dan mumbled. “Just us two.”

Phil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Text me when you’ve calmed down. And stick to the plan. Get your shit together.”

“I will. I promise,” Dan said, rushing out of the room, grabbing the lists they’d made and his backpack on the way out, barely mumbling a bye to Mark and Phil.

Phil let out a deep sigh and massaged his temples. Life was exhausting. He tried to calm down fully but he was still angry with Mark. He considered just sleeping it off, but the headache wouldn’t go away so he marched into the kitchen. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Do what?” Mark asked and Phil resisted the urge to slap him.

“What do you think?” Phil snapped back.

Mark shrugged. “You’ve never been upset about me kissing you.”

“I need you to stop pretending that you did that innocently or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

Mark dropped the spatula on the counter and turned around, leaning back against it. “Fine. I’m fucking tired of seeing you upset over Dan. He likes to play games with you. He strings you along and doesn’t want to commit to a relationship. It’s like he wants your attention but also Sam’s and when he doesn’t need you, he just disappears.”

“Huh, Well -” Phil sputtered. “That’s none of your business. And he’s not playing games, he’s just confused and depressed.”

“Who isn’t? We all have problems. I just wanted to see if he cared or not, and he did, but why? Is he jealous because he has feelings for you or is it some sort of ego boost for him?”

Phil paused for a moment. “He’s not a bad person, Mark,” he said. “And what ego? He barely has any self-esteem. He was bullied his entire childhood and - he had a lot more going on than you know, but I’m not going to betray his trust to justify him. You just don’t know the full story.”

“I don’t think he’s a bad person, but he’s neglecting your friendship and ruining any chances of getting with you, if that’s what he wants.” Mark reached towards Phil, pulling him into a soft hug and setting his chin on Phil’s shoulder. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it myself,” Phil mumbled.

“I know, you are all grown up, but I’ve never seen you so… interested in someone.”

Phil silently thanked Mark for not calling it what it was. Phil had never been actually in love with anyone, not really, not until Dan. It was not supposed to be this way; he wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for his friend and he was supposed to find someone who valued him and wanted to be his boyfriend. Maybe… “Do you think it’s my fault?”

“What is?”

“Nobody has ever been in love with me. Or even had feelings. It’s like I’m unlovable. I’ve been out there for years, I’ve dated so many guys for three months at a time and all of them wouldn’t even spit on me if I was on fire.”

Mark snorted. “I would spit on you.”

Phil snorted. “Only because you’re a kinky bastard.”

“True but also because you are my friend,” Mark said. “I love you, even if it’s not the way you need to be loved and I’ll always care about your feelings. You’ve always known where I stood because I like to be upfront and honest which is something Dan is not doing.”

“Well, you’re older than me and very mature and he is four years younger and has a lot to work on.”

“Yeah, I forget that sometimes,” Mark admitted. “Tell him I apologised for making things awkward when you see him. We can celebrate your birthday when you come home.”

“Were you listening behind the door?” Phil asked, finally looking into Mark’s eyes.

“No, love. You were being loud and the walls are not that thick in this flat.”

---

Things started to pick up after that. Dan surprised him with tickets to a Muse concert and brought him a cake and a bouquet of stuffed piranha plants from the Super Mario games. He also dropped by on the weekends and stuck to the schedule they had thought of.

The semester started to look up for him and they continued to post solo videos as well as a few collabs. In a way, filming a ‘Day In the Life’ brought them closer together than they had been in a while. They even had a sleepover the night before, shared breakfast and visited their favourite places, sparking memories of the day they met.

Phil wanted to promote a small play Dan would be doing as he slowly got back into theatre, but Dan was terrified that the crazy fans, who were starting to follow them around and just mysteriously pop into the places they frequented, would ruin everything or cause a scene. Theatre was a hobby for Dan but he took it fairly seriously and he didn’t want the other actors to resent him or think that he was making a mockery out of the play.

Even though Dan was not ready to start having regular therapy sessions yet, he still went ever so often when he felt like he needed to make adjustments in his life. It was recommended to him that he keep a journal to put his thoughts into order and also remember anything else he needed to bring up on the next appointment. That just turned into the spark that started a new fire: Dan’s newfound love for creative writing resulted in a variety of short stories that Phil was always happy to proofread and support. He was at Dan’s side every step of the way, in the same manner that he was always front and centre in the crowd of every play, even when the stories were not so interesting to him, he loved to see Dan thrive.

In June, just as summer was beginning, they went on their first free trip thanks to YouTube. The deal was that they would get a free trip to Jamaica and new digital cameras to take pictures and film vlogs as promotion. It sounded almost too good to be true, but thankfully it was a real contract. The vacation was a blast, they recorded a bunch of content, had every expense covered and hung out with a group of youtubers, most of which thought that they were a couple, but were cool about it.

The only downside, if there was even one, was that it was a bit weird to be filmed at all times because everyone was vlogging and Dan and Phil were just a bit more popular than the rest of them so any footage they could sneak into their videos would drive traffic to their channel. The phandom was quite dedicated.

The Phandom. Dan had accidentally named their fandom after saying that their ship - which was apparently a thing already - should be called Phan. Dan was equally excited to be important enough to be shipped with Phil and a bit weirded out about it. Still, he often oscillated between casually encouraging the shipping with jokes and getting weirdly defensive about it, going as far as to tweet someone “FYI I like vagina.” To be fair, that was more in response to the allegations that he was gay. Dan had not figured out his sexuality yet, and sometimes Phil thought he didn’t want to anyway, it was easier to ignore it, but when constantly proved for an answer, he’d snapped.

Phil didn’t appreciate the speculations either but at least he didn’t make a Tumblr sideblog to argue with the fans. Phil’s approach to life was to mostly ignore people since giving them attention would only make it worse. People went a little too crazy on the internet and he didn’t want any part of it.

By the time September rolled around, things really started to come to a head. Charlie was still being a bitch, basically, constantly rounding other youtubers to bad mouth Dan, to speculate about his sexuality, and ended up threatening Dan. Unhappy about the lack of attention Dan was giving him, Charlie dropped the covert accusations and resorted to outright calling Dan out for being gay.

It broke Phil’s heart to read Dan’s replies, so he texted him to ask how he wanted Phil to reply as well, but Dan asked him to be quiet. Instead, Dan tweeted that he was honestly scared of Charlie's behaviour, hinting at him being potentially mentally unstable, making his claims about Dan’s sexuality unreliable while trying to appear calm and collected himself, but Phil knew better; this was Dan’s worst nightmare. There was not a chance that Dan was unbothered about the speculations.

After that, Dan continued to post videos regularly, go to uni and do the occasional play, but at any given chance, he would put physical and emotional distance between he and Phil. They still collabed semi frequently but even when filming Pinof 4, it was very evident that Dan didn’t want to even sit close to him. Overall it went well, or as good as they could have expected and the fans liked it, but they could tell that something was a bit off. When Phil saw all the edits, he briefly regretted leaving him calling Dan special in the video, but Dan said it was fine.

To tackle his love/hate relationship with the Phandom, Dan posted his ‘Fandoms’ video in October, making light of the situation, spinning it as a relatable story yet still including a soft call out, almost like a beg for a semblance of respect for his humanity beyond being an entertainer, but it didn’t work. Phil could see how everything was weighing down on Dan but Dan said he was fine and tried to push through. It was not every day that you could be paid to film videos in your room, get free stuff and get a following.

Not everything was bad though, being a youtuber came with real opportunities. In fact, they were hired by the BBC to film a Christmas Special, which went amazing and opened the door to negotiate for a spot on Radio 1 the following year. Dan had seemed excited to join him, even though the offer had been extended only to Phil initially, but Phil had made it clear that they were a package deal and that was the parameter set for future negotiations.

The thing is… Dan had been pushing himself for quite a while. Everything he did had become a chore, something that he no longer wanted to do, he didn’t want any of it, not even uni, or that’s what he told Phil. One day, just like Dan had come into his life and offered his friendship, he took it all away.

He moved out of his dorm, no longer reached out to Phil or barely answered when Phil initiated, stopped posting YouTube videos without a warning, and above all, he abandoned Phil in every way possible.

Phil understood, or he tried to understand, but he was heartbroken - and the public fallout was evident. People were constantly asking where Dan was and what had happened between them, if they had broken up (those were the phan truthers), but Phil was not going to let that stop him. With Mark supporting him every step of the way, Phil went to his first Vidcon, started doing liveshows and prepared to move to London, putting every cent that he had saved to pay rent upfront, because, obviously, being a youtuber was not great on paper to rent a fucking flat in London. Fuck, sometimes he hated Dan, but more than anything, he hated himself. He had given Dan every opportunity even though Mark had warned him about it, but he’d wanted to believe that Dan would never hurt him like that.

The truth was that Dan didn’t love him back, didn’t want to be his friend - apparently (Phil could only guess since Dan never gave him an explanation) - and didn’t want to be associated with him privately or publicly. It was as if their friendship and everything they’d built together meant nothing at all. The Sam situation and the messiness had been only the start of the rift between them and by the end of it, it was the least of their problems.

#succubusphan fics #phanfic #phanfiction #phan #dan and phil #phan au #ospbb 2023

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dvp95 · 4 years

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giving you my forever

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: teen & up tags: fluff, established relationship, idiots in love, proposal word count: 1.2k summary: Phil gives him a little wave and goes to water their semi-neglected plants. He's wearing glasses and ugly pyjamas, and he looks like the rest of Dan's life.

"Hey," says Dan. "You wanna get married?"

read on ao3 or here!

It's something Dan has been thinking about a lot recently. They've always treated it like the eventuality it is, but their five-year plan, scrawled on a Sword Art Online sticky note after a long plane ride home and kept in a kitchen drawer, is wrapping up and making space for a new one. He's thinking about it even more now, as they round off a decade together and suddenly every day is another reminder of how far they've come.

Ten years. It stretches across a good chunk of Dan's life, over a third of it, really, and it kind of blurs together. He doesn't remember every single moment with crystal clarity, and there were long bouts where nothing felt good at all, not even Phil's hand in his, but he can look back on all of it with the sort of peace that comes from hindsight and knowing what you want.

What Dan wants is another ten years. And then another, and another. He's greedy like that. He wants to keep hitting this milestone over and over again, wants a lifetime of plans with Phil jotted down on sticky notes and celebrated with lazy kisses in the late autumn air.

They've talked about it, but not seriously. It's been passive jokes and soft whispers into each other's hair when they're feeling particularly sappy for so long. There had been so much to do before it, people to confide in, but there's not much left now that they've made such big leaps into a more authentic existence.

Dan is comfortable on their sofa and half watching some interior design show Netflix has been shoving down his throat like it somehow knows about the moving boxes scattered around the flat. When Phil comes in with his little watering can and a soft smile in greeting, Dan feels his heart flip over like it has since he was eighteen and stupid over the first boy who made him feel good about himself. That feeling hasn't diminished, it's only gotten stronger and softer in equal amounts, settled into Dan like something he never knew he'd be allowed to feel. Phil gives him a little wave and goes to water their semi-neglected plants. He's wearing glasses and ugly pyjamas, and he looks like the rest of Dan's life.

"Hey," says Dan. "You wanna get married?"

Phil laughs, quiet and lovely and not at all surprised. "Sure, we can have a party."

"That's not exactly what I asked," Dan notes. He's all too familiar with the way Phil dodges questions he doesn't have an answer for. "But we don't have to, I was just wondering."

"I think it sounds nice," says Phil. He picks up a small cactus to survey it sadly. "Oh, this one might not be salvageable."

"Probably not. So d'you want to get married, or are you just trying not to hurt my feelings?"

With another soft huff of a laugh, Phil sets the cactus and watering can down on the coffee table. He flops onto the sofa mostly on top of Dan, knobby knees and bony elbows all knocking into Dan in a way that ought to be annoying but is, instead, the most endearing thing in the world.

"I think," Phil says, pressing his lips to Dan's fluttering pulse point, "that we've earned making a big deal of it if we'd like to."

"I would like to," says Dan. A smile is tugging at his lips, but he's not giving in yet. He wraps his arms around Phil as best as he can, since neither of them are in properly comfortable positions, and kisses Phil's temple. "I want to be married to you."

"Well, that's a silly thing to want," Phil laughs. "You already are."

"I know it feels like we are, but I just think -"

"No," Phil interrupts before Dan can get a good ramble in, which is rare enough on its own that Dan's words die in his throat. Phil gives him a bemused sort of smile. "You literally already are. Is this a joke, or have you actually forgotten?"

This would be exactly the type of thing that Phil would joke about, his lips twitching and his eyes wide with fake innocence as he tries to convince Dan of something blatantly untrue, but none of his usual tells are there. Instead, Phil just looks like he's torn between offense and a desire to laugh in Dan's face.

"We aren't married," Dan says, slowly.

"We are," says Phil, "and you'd know that if you ever did any of our paperwork."

Dan feels like, maybe, he ought to be more shocked.

"When did this happen?" Is all he's really got. It's not like he can be angry about something he so desperately wants. "Where was I?"

"Couple years back," Phil says, and he giggles into Dan's neck. "You signed the papers, you absolute idiot. Did you not know what we were doing? I asked if you wanted to take the next step."

Dan wracks his mind for that memory. He's signed a lot of shit with Phil at his side, and he can't remember any of it being a marriage certificate. He's about to dismiss this as another over-the-top Phil prank when he gets a sneaking suspicion.

"Babe," he says, pulling back from their weird snuggle so he can give Phil a properly dubious look. "Did you dream this?"

A giggle and a smack to Dan's chest. "No!"

"Where's the license, then?"

"With all our other papers, you want me to prove it?"

"No, Phil," says Dan, "I'm just going to take your word for it that we got married without me noticing."

"I'll show you," Phil grumbles, good-naturedly, and he clambers off of Dan with some more awkward flailing of his long limbs. He hurries down the stairs and Dan's laughter echoes a little bit in the open, nearly empty space.

The interior design show is still playing, but Dan has long lost interest in it. He stands up instead and picks up the watering can, because he knows damn well how unorganized their filing system is, and he might as well keep sustaining their houseplants while Phil gets lost in paperwork. Phil keeps saying he knows where everything goes, but Dan wouldn't be able to find his own birth certificate without help.

It only takes Phil a few minutes, somehow; Dan has really got to pay more attention when Phil is explaining his system. He comes back upstairs empty-handed and sheepish.

"You dreamt it," Dan says flatly.

"I might have dreamt it," Phil agrees.

"You're an idiot."

Phil shrugs. He's grinning and his cheeks are a little pink, his hands moving around in vague, uncertain motions like he doesn't know what to do with them. He's an idiot, but he's Dan's idiot. "Yeah, alright, maybe I am," he laughs. "We probably should get married so I stop committing tax fraud."

Dan cannot tell if that's a joke. He also doesn't really care. He laughs too, loud and grateful and just so unbelievably, deliriously happy that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

"Sure. That's a good reason."

"I mean, it is," says Phil. "I don't want to go to tax jail. And I liked being married to you, when I thought I was."

"Guess we need to start planning shit out, then," Dan says, smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. He's thinking about that sticky note, the five-year plan, and everything he wants to add to the next one. For now, though, he's going to water the plants so Phil isn't begging him to pack up dead succulents in the next couple of weeks and start to think of a better proposal story to tell his nan.

#words words words #phanfic #phan #dnp fic #phanfiction

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huphilpuffs · 5 years

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the scariest part (is letting go)

summary: Dan’s journey with sexuality continues long after he meets Phil. word count: 8.7k rating: g warnings: food mentions, homophobia, depression a/n: Written for @phandomficfests pride flash fest (no I clearly don’t know what “flash fest” means). Huge thanks goes to @insectbah for beta’ing this for me at the last moment.

ao3 link

“I feel gay.”

Dan says it into the darkness of Phil’s bedroom. His gaze has been locked on the window for far too long now, watching the faintest fall of snowflakes outside. His fingers are laced through Phil’s, his whole body bare, back pressed to Phil’s chest. He can feel the rise and fall of Phil’s ribs against his spine, and tries to enjoy the warm puffs of breath against the back of his neck.

He had for a while, in the first moments after Phil slipped out of him, cleaned them both up, and slid into bed behind him. When his head was still fuzzy with all the happy post-orgasm feelings that could fit inside him. When his heart was still racing to the beat of him falling in love.

It’s been a while now. Dan’s not even sure if Phil’s still awake.

He’s not sure he wants him to be.

Dan’s bum still feels loose and a little achy. It’s felt that way before, just one time with a boy he’d met in a club just after he’d turned eighteen, but everything else feels different this time.

Phil is different. He’s Dan’s proper boyfriend . They’re going to wake up next to each other in the morning, lanky limbs all tangled together and giddy smiles meeting in sloppy morning breath kisses. Dan already knows he’s gonna love it then, when he has Phil’s smile to remind him that it’s okay.

Right now, though, he just has a dark sky and an even darker mind, an ache in his ass and a possessive palm pressed against his stomach.

Phil’s thumb swipes gently at where Dan’s ribs jut out.

“I don’t know if you mean that in a good or bad way,” he says, voice sleepy.

It’s just enough to have Dan remembering he’s never actually used that word with Phil before. On formsprings it had been I’m bi , and on Skype it had been yeah, I, uh, like boys too . In person, the press of their lips and the quiet confessions of long-known crushes says enough.

Here, everything feels like it’s edging on too much. Phil’s tired and Dan probably should be too. It’s not time to delve into everything that’s churning angrily in his chest, clouding the parts of him that could probably burst with joy if he let them.

Dan swallows, squeezing Phil’s hand gently. “Neither do I.”

The heaviness between his ribs says otherwise, but Dan knows it’ll fade by the time he falls asleep.

---

Phil asks about it one time.

They’re sitting side by side in Phil’s flat, scrolling through the comments on their latest videos. Dan must move when he reads one, because Phil’s gaze flicks from his computer screen, up to catch Dan’s. Their knees bump together on the cushions. Dan almost wants to close his laptop and forget he even read the stupid thing.

It’s not like he hasn’t gotten similar comments before. There’s no reason why this particular one would make his insides bristle.

But a half smile quirks at the corner of Phil’s mouth. “What’d you read?” he says, and Dan decides he’s been running from this conversation for long enough.

He points to the screen and watches too closely as Phil scans the comment quickly.

“You don’t like that word, do you?”

Dan’s chest goes tight. Part of him wants to ask how Phil can tell, but it’s hardly the first time it’s shown up. There’s been friends who use it because they’re both boys, dating, and it’s easier than any alternative. YouTube comments where it appears again and again and again.

Voices in the back of Dan’s mind that only appear when he’s particularly disinterested in dealing with the echoes of sexuality crises past.

Of course Phil’s noticed. Phil notices a lot of things no one else seems to. He’s just not really the type to ask.

Except today, apparently. Dan should have kept the damn comment to himself.

“Not really,” he says.

Phil nods, mouth pinched into a thoughtful line. “Can I ask why?”

Dan shrugs, sorta because he doesn’t want Phil to ask but mostly because he doesn’t know how to put it all into words, not yet. It sounds silly when he simplifies it, but his brain seems to short circuit whenever he tries to delve too deep.

“Just like, bullies from back at school and stuff,” he says. “It brings back memories.”

“Oh,” says Phil. “Yeah, I get that.”

Dan doesn’t really doubt that he does. Phil’s tall and skinny and nerdy just like he is. He’s pretty much just as queer as Dan is. He grew up in 1990s England with people probably a lot like the one’s Dan was surrounded by. Dan knows he was, because Phil’s told him about it in snippets when the topic of school has come up.

But part of him still thinks the memories don’t linger as hauntingly for Phil as they do for him.

He hums, and mumbles a quiet “Yeah,” and hopes it’s enough.

---

Sometimes he doesn’t mind.

It’s always in the privacy of their own home, away from prying eyes. Something will happen, like Phil poking his finger into Dan’s side to tickle him, and next thing Dan knows they’re pressed together and giggling and catching each other’s mouths in clumsy kisses. It reminds Dan of the first few months, when long weeks of Skype calls built up to giddy, clingy meetings when he could hardly let Phil go.

Today, Phil tugged Dan into his lap because he was losing so badly at their round of Mario Kart he deemed the game no longer worth it. Dan knows he would have won anyway, so he settles for letting Phil pepper kisses to his face, crinkled with joy.

He slides his fingers into Phil’s hair and pulls him into a kiss, quick and fleeting and happy.

“You’re distracting me,” he hisses, but it gets lost in a giggle and the loop of Mario Kart music as neither of them finish the race.

Phil giggles against his cheek, drops a kiss there that’s a little too wet.

Dan laughs, too. He clings to his boyfriend and lets himself feel like he’s eighteen again, floating in a bubble of the Manchester Eye far, far up in the sky.

And when the thought – this is so gay – drifts into his mind, fleeting and fluttery, he just pulls Phil back to him and kisses him again.

---

Outside the privacy of his own home, his own head, it’s different.

Plastered across every corner of the internet that he’s learned to occupy, it’s so, so, so different.

He slams his laptop shut, because he can’t bear to read it anymore. It already seems plastered in the back of his mind, flashing behind his eyes in the sans serif fonts of every website he dared to open. He presses the heel of his palms against his face and hopes, so very desperately, that it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t.

His chest goes tight. He hugs his knees to make the ache there go away, pressing harsh breaths into the dip between his knees.

That’s how Phil finds him, curled up in a ball in bed, smearing tears and snot against his trousers and Dan doesn’t care. He can’t care. Everything else going on takes up every ounce of his ability to care.

Phil’s hand lands on his back. His lips land in Dan’s hair, messy and curly cause he couldn’t be bothered to fix it this morning.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, over and over and over again. “You’re gonna be okay, okay?”

Dan’s chest buckles. The breath he tries to take is scratchy like denim. “They know , Phil.”

“I know,” says Phil.

Dan chokes on a cry. “My family doesn’t even know yet.”

“I know.”

Fingers trip down his spine, as though Phil’s starting to feel helpless too.

Dan peeks out from between his knees. His eyes feel swollen. His whole face feels gross and sticky. His whole body feels broken.

“They’re calling me gay,” he whispers.

Phil combs his fingers through his hair and says, just as hopelessly, “I know.”

---

“I can’t do it,” says Dan. “I’m not ready.”

They’re sitting at the table now, but Dan’s knees are still hugged to his chest, his breaths still coming too harsh, too fast. He stares at the stickers stuck on the back of Phil’s laptop, every cheerful splash of colour, and tries to tell himself it’s okay, it’s a normal day, he can calm down, as though he doesn’t know exactly what’s lighting up the screen.

There’s probably hundreds of little messages they haven’t addressed.

Dan still hasn’t braved his mentions, not since the first glance sent his mind whirling back to darkness he thought he’d left behind.

Phil looks up from the screen. His brows are furrowed, his whole face drawn. “Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll lie.”

Dan feels himself frown, his weight sinking heavier onto his knees. He feels like a little kid again when he says, “That sounds bad.”

All of this is making him feel like a little kid again, running away from the slightest implication that he could be gay . Except now there’s a voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he’s going to go to bed and cling to his boyfriend in just a few hours. And there’s countless other voices, long since erased from his life, hissing the word like an insult, over and over and over again.

“You’re not ready,” says Phil. “That’s what matters most.”

He closes his laptop on a million unanswered questions, and reaches over to rest a hand on Dan’s knee.

---

The panic doesn’t fade.

Phil’s been taking the video off the internet for months now. Questions are slowly fading from Dan’s social medias. His parents never found out, never asked, never suspected. People from his past didn’t pop out of his memories to repeat all the terrible things they used to say, but with proof this time.

It should have faded.

But Dan’s mind still hisses at every message. His chest still goes tight when his gaze catches the word on his screen. His hands shake as he answers. He keeps them off camera so the viewers can’t see.

Sometimes, in the middle of a liveshow, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

The questions that linger feel like accusations. Feel like the jeer of gay like an insult. Feel like the taunts of bullies in secondary school hallways.

And the pressure in his chest, quickening his heart rate and stealing his breath, feels too much like the endless need to prove his own heterosexuality that he thought he’d given up on.

He closes his laptop when the liveshow ends, shoves it aside like it insulted him. Part of him feels like it does.

From across the lounge, Phil doesn’t say anything.

---

“Does it bother you?” Dan asks one day.

Phil looks up from his computer, brows furrowed, confused. It makes sense. Dan sometimes forgets that the thoughts swirling in the back of his mind aren’t always spoken out loud. He tries, and fails, to remember that the same topics don’t haunt Phil the way they haunt him.

“Does what?”

He shrugs. “The fact that I don’t like, like, the word –” Dan swallows against the anxious knot in his stomach “– gay .”

Phil frowns, the way he does when he realizes Dan’s thinking about something far deeper than the situation requires. It’s a face Dan’s pretty sure he’s too familiar with. He should probably stop contemplating his entire life when he’s supposed to be watching cat videos on YouTube.

He so very wishes it was that easy.

“Should I be bothered?”

“I dunno,” says Dan. “I just – You know I’m, like, sure I like boys, right?”

The corner of Phil’s mouth quirks up slightly, eyes narrowing with the faintest hint of teasing. “I feel like I have ample evidence you like boys, Dan.”

He rolls his eyes, a silent laugh slipping past the weight in his chest. “Whatever,” he says. “You know what I mean. Like, you know I’m sure about us, right? It’s just that word.”

Phil’s gaze softens, smile faltering. His foot loops over Dan’s, a quiet comfort. “I know,” he says. “You have trauma related to that word. You not liking it has nothing to do with me.”

He sounds so sure when he says it.

Dan just nods and mumbles a quiet, “Okay. Good.”

The word trauma bounces around in his head long after he’s turned back to his computer.

---

They don’t tell the BBC.

Dan ignores the anxious part of him reminding him that a little while ago, he might have. That was before.

Today, he sits in a room with high up execs who wear suits and have big desks that make them look important. He holds a pen in his hand and signs his name on a contract for something he never thought would happen. He agrees to be half of a best friend duo, and that’s all.

The person sitting across the desk smiles at them. Dan’s worked with her before. He wonders, just for a moment, and then another, and another, and another, if she knows. He doesn’t need to tell people for them to find out. Not anymore.

The thought makes him nauseous.

“We’ll see you guys again soon,” she says. “I’ll email you if we need anything else on our end between now and then.”

Phil nods. Dan does too, just a second too late.

They leave like best friends, with waves and laughs and a practiced amount of distance between them.

Dan pretends he doesn’t know they’re going to get home and celebrate with pizza and cheap wine and sex.

---sid

Sometimes, it gets lost in a dreary jumble of everything that weighs, dark and heavy, on his mind.

There's insecurity about his own creativity, staring at the stream of things he’s made, none of which seem quite good enough. There’s relationships that leave him feeling unsteady, vaguely unwelcome. There’s parts of his past that make him feel like a failure, like the law degree he never finished.

And there’s every other little bit of apathetic sadness that Dan’s never been able to explain, but remains an ever-present burden weighing down on his heart.

He thought this was supposed to go away when you stop being a teenager.

So much was supposed to go away when he finally reached adulthood.

He rolls onto his side, stares at the cup of coffee Phil left for him so long ago it’s probably gone cold by now, and wishes all of it would just go away.

---

They write a book.

Well, they’re writing a book. It’s still a work in progress.

They hunch over their laptops, fingers splayed on their keyboards, and tell stories Dan’s pretty sure have almost all been heard before, in some capacity. Phil laughs at Dan’s typos, and Dan laughs at Phil’s weird adjective choices, and it’s hard work in the easiest way.

Most of the time, anyway.

Some days they get to segments where the whole story has never been told.

One day, Dan starts writing about school. His finger aimless taps a series of Gs into a blank document. His brain goes numb. They stay up into the wee hours of the morning that day, and yet Dan comes away with barely any words. Phil ends up with a lot more, and yet he hardly seems to care.

He swipes Dan’s laptop away and draws him in. Outside, the sky is dark and the ground is lit up with the infinite expanse of London lights. Dan feels like the inside of his mind might match, all his ideas buried under a few pitch black thoughts.

“Writer’s block?” says Phil.

“Something like that.”

“Wanna talk it out?”

Dan shrugs. “School just has a lot of stuff I’m not ready to talk about,” he says. “Like, well, you know.”

“Then don’t talk about it,” says Phil. “I’m not.”

He makes it sound so easy. Phil makes a lot of things sound easy. Dan wishes his brain worked like that.

Instead, it’s chanting old songs about him being gay that classmates used to sing on the bus. It’s repeating the way the word used to be hissed in his ears. It’s remembering all the nights in secondary school Dan spent wishing he was straight.

“Okay,” he says.

He spends the rest of the night trying to figure out how to make his stories feel authentic while leaving them so incomplete.

---

The first time he goes to therapy, every unspoken truth feels like it’s on display.

He’s buried himself in a hoodie, as though that will hide the tense line of his shoulders, the defensive cross of his arms over his chest. The man sitting across from him has his legs crossed and a confident smile and Dan feels the juxtaposition acutely.

After introducing himself as Eric, the first thing his therapist says is “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Dan feels his every insecurity press painfully against his ribs.

“I, uh, I’m twenty-three,” he says. “I make YouTube videos for a living. And I have a radio show with the BBC. And – You’re, like, sworn to secrecy, right?”

“Unless I think you’re a threat to yourself or others.”

Dan nods. He already knew that. “Okay, then I’m also, like, writing a book right now. it should be published within the year.”

His therapist smiles, all polite and professional. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah,” says Dan. He nods again, just to make his body feel less awkward.

There’s a pause. Dan’s not sure if he’s supposed to speak or wait for more questions. It probably doesn’t matter. If he asked, Eric would probably say something about doing whatever makes him most comfortable.

Nothing makes him comfortable, though. That’s kind of the problem.

Eric speaks first. “What about relationships? Family? Friends?”

“Uh,” says Dan. “My family lives in Wokingham. I have a few good friends, but I’m, like, a total introvert.”

He looks down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. There’s more, right at the tip of Dan’s tongue. His therapist is waiting for more. And he can’t tell anyone anything. It shouldn’t matter.

Dan could say: And I have a boyfriend. His name’s Phil. We’ve been together for five years and live together and work together. He’s my best friend.

What he actually says is “And I live with my best friend, Phil.”

---

Putting their relationship on display is always hard.

Part of Dan has gotten used to it. Joint ventures make up most of his career by now and most of him really loves it that way. Working with Phil is easy. Having fun with him is easy.

Setting up a camera in their spare room and filming themselves playing video games is so very easy.

Making them suitable for the internet is the hard part.

Dan’s mouse hovers over a clip. He plays it back over and over and over again, until the exact intonation of his own voice lingers vividly in his mind. Phil makes a joke and Dan laughs too loudly, stares too fondly. It’s a break from their rehearsed back and forth, from the voices they’ve learned to put on for the radio that have since translated onto YouTube.

It’s not that bad. Gay-adjacent perhaps, but not unlike all of Phil’s other innuendos.

In the clip, Dan’s eyes crinkle and his voice goes squeaky and Phil leans in towards him like he would if they were playing a game in the lounge without a camera filming their every move.

It makes Dan want to keep it that way, to wrap their whole public lives up and keep what’s between him and Phil just theirs.

Part of him wants to leave it there, though, just to show off how good they are together. Maybe he would, if there weren’t a thousand comments of years past being whispered at the back of his mind.

He right clicks, and cuts that bit out.

---

When he tells his therapist, it’s hardly even on purpose.

He’s talking about his relationship with his parents, because apparently that has a long term impact on one’s mental well-being, when he says, “I like boys.”

And then “Phil’s actually my boyfriend.”

And finally “My parents don’t know.”

Eric smiles, like he does when he thinks they’ve reached something important. “Thanks for telling me,” he says. “Is this a new relationship?”

Dan laughs quietly. “Not exactly,” he says. “It’s been, like, five years now.”

“Oh,” says Eric. He’s chuckling, too. It puts Dan’s mind at ease a little bit. “Well, why don’t you tell me a bit about your relationship with Phil, then?”

Dan does. Because out of all of this, his relationship with Phil is the one thing he’s always been proud of.

---

The panic fades with time.

Dan notices it one day when he’s reading comments on a gaming video. One of them calls them gay, and Dan’s brain doesn’t instantly seize up into a tense mess of every terrible memory he has related to the word.

He just laughs.

Phil looks up from his own computer. “You know the rules,” he says. “If you find a funny animal video you need to share.”

“Too bad I didn’t find a funny animal video then,” says Dan, smiling at Phil’s responding pout. “Just reading the comments on the latest video.”

“Oh? Anything interesting?”

Dan shrugs. There isn’t really, not that he’s found. The one comment his gaze keeps tracing is hardly original, buried in a sea of similar ones spanning the entirety of their careers. Still, he highlights it with his cursor and hands his laptop over.

Phil will understand why Dan’s chest feels all bubbly with something quite not happy, but definitely better than everything that preceded it.

He reads the comment. When he looks back at Dan, it’s with a smile.

---

Their boundaries shift.

Well, Dan’s do. Phil’s might have always been here, just waiting for Dan to catch up, open up. Sometimes, Dan wants to ask, wants to know if he’s been the one holding Phil to strict limits, but he knows it would only serve to upset himself.

Phil’s always been understanding of Dan’s anxieties. He figured out how to keep this part of their lives a secret. He sits back and smiles as Dan slowly lets it be more public again.

More jokes make it into gaming videos. More little anecdotes make it into the book. They write fanfiction about themselves and giggle about it, sanity lost to the time of night when everything is hilarious. They write a song, one that’s not quite about themselves but feels like it is every time their eyes lock over that one lyric Dan would have cut just a little while ago.

The release date is on the horizon. There’s a whole tour after that. They’ve voiced characters for Disney and they’re making an app and still have a whole world of YouTube to keep up with.

Dan watches the video they just edited one last time before posting.

If he pays attention, he can tell that his voice has gone less flat and his shoulders less tense since they first started filming together again.

He smiles.

---

“You’re going on tour soon, aren’t you?” says his therapist.

Dan smiles. He doesn’t wear baggy hoodies to his appointments anymore, doesn’t feel the need to bury himself in the chair. Today, though, he shoves his hands into his pockets and hopes it’s not too obvious that talking about his own success makes him just a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” he says. “First show’s October 8th, the same day as the book launch.”

“Sounds like an eventful day,” says Eric. “Does it make you nervous?”

Dan chuckles. “No shit it does.”

“Anything in particular you’re anxious about?” asks Eric.

Dan presses back against the cushions. Questions like that are the one thing that still make his pulse pick up, his stomach twist as his mind rifles through every possible answer. It’s the type of open-ended vulnerability Dan doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to.

His hands curl into fists in his pockets. “It’s going to be the most closely I’ve interacted with my fans since, you know, shit went down a few years ago,” he says. “I’m kinda scared I’m not ready.”

Eric nods, the way he does when he’s found something to talk about that appointment.

Dan swallows, and tries to untangle his thoughts before he needs to utter them out loud.

---

The first person to hand him a rainbow flag at a meet and greet is a girl who comes up to his shoulders.

Her hands are shaking and she’s wearing a smile, and she presses it into his open palm with a quiet request that they sign it, then take a picture with it. Phil smiles, in the way he always does when meeting a fan. He asks if she’s excited for the show, and Dan only listens to the peppiness of her response.

He stares at the flag in his hand. The lighting in the room makes the bright colours reflect against his skin.

It’s thrilling.

It’s really not what he needs to be focusing on right now.

He looks up. The girl is smiling at them. “Your videos made a real difference in my life,” she says. “They helped me through a rough time.”

Dan feels his smile widen. His fingers tighten around the fabric in his hand. He wonders if she knows.

Wonders why the thought doesn’t terrify him anymore.

“I know the feeling,” he says. It makes her eyes gleam brighter.

Something like pride flares in Dan’s chest. He holds the flag and watches as both he and Phil write their names on it.

---

His family comes to the London show. Phil’s family does too.

They all meet up afterwards, sipping champagne in the privacy of Dan and Phil’s flat. His nan talks about how proud she is. His mum talks to Phil like he’s Dan’s best friend and business partner. From across the lounge, Kath smiles at Dan like he’s her son, too.

It makes his chest ache. Guilt weighs heavy on his mind. He does the rest of his glass in one sip and ignores the way his grandad laughs at him for it.

A few hours ago, he was kissing Phil good luck. He was holding a rainbow flag in his hand and listening to a fan talk about how they just recently came out. He was being wished good luck, child by Phil’s mum.

“Anyone want something to eat?” he says. It’s too loud, too obvious.

Phil jumps from his seat. “I’ll help.”

Nigel smiles. “Whatever you have would be lovely,” he says.

Dan nods. He stumbles over to the kitchen. Away from prying eyes, he lets his weight sink forward onto the countertop, head dipped. It feels heavy now, with all the thoughts running circles around it.

Phil’s hand lands on his back. His voice is low when he says, “Are you okay?”

Dan shrugs. Phil knows him well enough to know it means no.

---

Tour consumes their lives that year.

It’s rehearsal, then show, then travel overnight to another rehearsal and another show. It’s late nights on the bus and early mornings in theaters. It’s meeting countless new people and taking thousands and photos and hearing stories that make everything seem more worth it than it ever has before.

It’s a rush.

Dan feels it, a thrill in his bones, a continuous buzz of adrenaline at his temples, just enough to make everything else fade away.

There are moments that real life comes rushing back. The skit about who gets the double bed leaves his stomach feeling tight, long after both he and Phil have set their things down around the room. Sometimes there’s a photo taken for DAPGO that feels just a little too real to share. Some nights, signing rainbow flags edges on too much.

Most days, though, he settles into bed with Phil after the show, mind energized and body exhausted, and feels nothing but contentment.

---

They’re home for a little bit in the summer, after America but before Australia.

It feels different. Dan feels different. At the appointment when he first got back to London, Eric suggested it might be because interacting with his audience in a new way has shifted his perspective on what he does. It makes sense.

YouTube feels different, when Dan sits down to make a new video.

Two months since he did this last, he sits down at his desk with a pen and a brain full of muddled thoughts. He scribbles them down and crosses them out and refreshes the tab he has open just to see which videos show up this time. His subscription box is filled with tag videos.

Normally, it might make Dan laugh.

Today, he scribbles diss track at the top of the page and starts writing.

He sends it to Phil afterwards, an attachment in an email that just says does this sound okay?

His chest is tight. There are parts in there – well, just the one, really – that he wouldn’t have said before TATINOF. He kind of wants to go and delete it. His fingers just tap idly against the desk instead. He thinks of holding rainbow flags in his hands and hearing stories of people coming out and he knows this isn’t that, but it feels like a step.

It is a step. It’s a fucking huge step, wedged precariously between jokes and twisted to fit his branding.

His phone vibrates. Phil’s response is a text, not an email.

It just reads Yeet!

The normalcy of it makes Dan feel a little more okay.

---

Another huge step is standing on a stage together, accepting Phil’s solo award together.

Dan fumbles through awkward jokes, even though he feels his smile stretched wide, feels his chest burst with pride. They walk off stage together, sip champagne at a party afterwards until Dan’s brain’s gone a little foggy and his heart very much soft and he and Phil are sliding into a car together, still in matching sparkly suits.

He plucks at Phil’s fingers the entire drive back to the flat, and tries not to think about how it makes him feel eighteen again.

“That was a gesture,” he says. “Like, a proper sappy gesture.”

Phil’s hand flips under his. Their fingers thread together. There’s a driver just a few feet away and Dan doesn’t much care if he notices anything.

“Was it okay?” says Phil. “I should’ve asked first. Didn’t think I’d win, though.”

“You deserve it.”

Phil laughs, bumping their knees together. “Of course Phil trash number one would think that.”

Any other day, Dan might have laughed, or let out a squeak knowing full well it’s a nickname he gave himself. Phil’s voice would be less soft. Dan wouldn’t be resting his head on Phil’s shoulder in the back of a car with a stranger, genuinely feeling like the universe might rip in half if he didn’t have this, didn’t have Phil.

Maybe his drunken brain is a little dramatic, but Dan got to share this today, in their own safe, goofy little way. And maybe it’s the alcohol, but it feels a lot like exhilaration rushing through his veins.

He squeezes Phil’s hand and mumbles, “I love you.”

---

Tour ends in December.

A few weeks before that, Phil sits across from Dan on the sofa and declares, “We need a new project.”

Dan doesn’t ask why. He knows it’s for his own benefit more than anything. They’ve talked about it before, during long drives between cities, long nights in bed. Phil knows the way projects make energy vibrate under Dan’s skin, the way it forces everything else out of his mind, just for a little while.

He knows the way Dan can crash afterwards.

“Have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking gaming videos,” says Phil, because of course he has a plan. Phil’s brain is far more business minded than Dan’s is, always figuring out their next step forward. “People like them, and they’re fun to make, right?”

“Right,” says Dan. “Like our own vlogmas?”

Phil smiles. “Well, more like gamingmas.”

“Sounds lit,” says Dan.

He knows in the coming days they’ll plan it out more, decide on an upload schedule and collect a shortlist of games they can play. Phil will try to film a bunch in advance because it’s less stressful that way. Dan will probably edit them, because he’s used to it, and Phil will make thumbnails and it’ll be a new little routine to figure out.

Now, though, he just says, “Can I recommend something else?”

Phil hums.

“Can we use it to, like, lower our boundaries?” says Dan. “Be more authentically us or whatever?”

Part of him feels like the point is belied by planning it in advance, but they’ve planned every step in advance for so long that undoing everything they’ve built up needs to be intentional too. Dan needs it to be intentional.

“Are you ready for that?” says Phil.

Dan shrugs one shoulder. “Reckon I am.”

He’s pretty sure Phil is, too.

---

“I want to come out.”

He’s sitting in therapy again, tugging at the sleeves of his jumper. Eric’s the first person he’s told. Even Phil doesn’t really know. Part of Dan’s not sure he knows for certain. The thought makes his heart race and his brain a little crazy.

But keeping it a secret is starting to feel like a burden, far greater than the alternative.

Eric smiles, nods. “Now?”

“Sorta,” says Dan. “But I have all this –” he waves his hand in the air, tries to make the word sound lighter “– trauma.”

“You do,” says Eric. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

---

Dan sits down in front of his bedroom mirror.

Phil’s downstairs, grumbling at the Xbox because he keeps losing his game. Dan can just barely hear it from where he’s sitting, but it’s comforting, familiar when Dan’s brain feels all muddled and messy and confused.

This was Eric’s idea, something about acclimating himself to hearing the words in new contexts, happier contexts, safe contexts.

It still doesn’t feel safe. He’s sitting in his own home, in PJs and slippers with his hair looking an absolute disaster, and still the word tastes bitter in his mouth. Still, it feels like something he shouldn’t say, shouldn’t even think of saying when it’s not spur of the moment and gleeful and proud.

His fingernails dig into his thighs.

“I like boys,” he says, because that’s always been the safest.

His chest buckles around an exhale. He drags his hands up his legs, staring down at the drag of his pyjamas against his skin. His duvet is soft underneath him. There’s dirty laundry piled up on the floor. There’s photos of a life, happy and shared, littered across the room.

Dan takes a breath. He catches his own gaze in the mirror and says, “I’m gay.”

---

“You’re being more open,” says Phil one day.

They’re lying on the sofa, passing the PlayStation controller back and forth. The words distract Dan just long enough to send him falling into a pit. He hands the controller over, but Phil just sets it down on his lap without playing, leaving the game’s music to play on loop through the lounge.

He rests his hand on Dan’s head, running his fingers through strands of hair that have been left curly at the end.

“It’s on purpose, isn’t it?” he asks.

Dan hums. “Yeah. Feels right.”

Phil’s thumb sweeps across his temple. “It does,” he says. “I like seeing more of the real you.”

“That’s just cause you’re, like, in love with me, sap.”

He feels the rumble of Phil’s laugh, and finds himself matching it, chuckling at the ceiling to the tunes of their favourite pastime.

Phil tugs at a curl. “Yeah, well, let me be proud of you, rat,” he says.

---

“I’m gay.”

He says it to Phil one day when they’re lying in bed, naked and sated and quietly content. There’s a hand on his back and under his own he can feel the steady beat of Phil’s heart, the silent rise and fall of his chest around each breath.

It’s been long weeks of effort. He’s gotten used to hearing it in his own voice, to seeing the way his mouth moves around the words in the mirror. They don’t make his heart ache the same way, don’t make him think of dark days spent sitting alone to avoid what other people had to say.

Telling Phil was Eric’s idea, the logical next step, the one person who cannot possibly be surprised or afronted by Dan’s queerness.

The one person who almost knows what those words mean to Dan.

His response is a kiss dropped to the top of Dan’s head, the protective splay of his fingers across Dan’s ribs.

“I know,” he says, voice soft with so many things, lilted with just a hint of teasing.

Somehow, that’s exactly what Dan needed from him.

---

The idea of a second tour starts off fleeting, and slowly becomes concrete.

It starts with missing the road, and the shows, and seeing their fans. They talk about it in fragments, in split second ideas for segments that never made it into TATINOF, that they might not even have considered for TATINOF. It goes unspoken that they’re different now. It hasn’t even been a year, but they’ve grown so very much.

One day, Dan says, “If we ever do another tour, it’s gonna be more honest, just Dan and Phil, not Dan and Phil. ”

The idea sticks.

---

“Have you seen this Dream Daddy game?”

Phil looks up from his computer. “You mean the one literally every straight gamer is playing right now?”

Dan laughs, moving his mouse from the jacksepticeye video it was hovering over. “Yeah, that one,” he says. “Looks funny, don’t you think?”

Phil shrugs. “Suppose so,” he says. “Why? You gonna buy it?”

“I was thinking we could play it on the gaming channel.”

That gets Phil’s attention. His hand falls from the keyboard and his eyes go wide and Dan would laugh if his insides didn’t suddenly feel all squirmy.

“You want to make a video?” says Phil. “But that’s, like, proper queer.”

“I know.” Dan shrugs, awkward and tense. “I think it could be fun. Besides, if all the straight guys are playing it, why can’t we?”

Phil agrees. They buy the game and sit down to film a video. The nerves come only when the red record light on their camera is shining above the screen of the PC, and Dan’s hand is on the mouse, waiting to start.

“We don’t have to do this if we don’t want to, you know,” says Phil. It’s his quiet, not-for-the-camera voice.

Dan matches it when he says, “No, I want to if you do.”

They start the game and never finish it.

Dan’s proud of them anyway.

---

His hands are shaking when he hits upload on Daniel and Depression.

He closes the tab the second it’s posted, slams his laptop shut, and turns off notifications on his phone. Even though he knows he’s going to be miserable at it, he picks up the PlayStation remote and tries to play a game with Phil. That’s always been the best distraction.

The video isn’t long. He only manages a few deaths before curiosity gets the best of him and he’s picking his phone back up.

What he finds is lovely, an endless stream of support that makes his whole body go warm. Tears sting in his eyes. His lips quiver around a smile.

It’s the most open he’s ever been with his audience.

It’s the most at home he’s felt among them in years.

---

He tells Bryony next.

It’s game night at their flat, one last time before 2017 switches to 2018 and Dan and Phil’s lives go wild with last minute tour preparation. Heartthrob is laid out across the table. There’s a tiny pencil in Dan’s hand and a wine glass in front of him and happy laughter rumbling in his chest.

His brain reminds him on repeat that this would be a great time to do it.

He watches Bry flip one of the cards over. It’s their third round of the night. The card she lays down on the table is of a guy with high cheekbones and light eyes, someone Phil would definitely label Dan’s type.

His chest goes tight. He swallows, then chokes out: “God, I’m gay.”

It’s awkward and stilted. Phil giggles against the rim of his wine glass, a little tipsy by now. Bryony definitely knows him well enough to know he wouldn’t normally say it.

She stares at him for a moment, eyes gleaming.

“Well, guess we know who Dan’s choosing.”

She laughs. Phil does too. Dan can’t help but join in.

---

“How are you feeling?” asks Eric.

Dan smiles. He actually means it today when he says, “Good.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about today?”

There’s a lot he probably should talk about. He and Phil are considering buying a house again. There’s another tour on the horizon. His friend group just shifted. His whole career feels like it’s in a perpetual state of shifting. There’s so many things running around in Dan’s mind.

None of them are as sad or apathetic or anxious as they used to be.

He crosses his legs in the seat and rests his hands on his legs and says, “I think I might be ready to come out this year.”

---

“So, we’re actually going to make Dab and Evan gay?”

They’re sitting in front of the gaming PC. The camera’s still not on, though it will be in a few moments. They’ve had this conversation before, after last time they filmed, last time they planned videos, lying in bed one night and discussing the future of the gaming channel.

“I think the fans would actually revolt if we didn’t, Phil,” he says.

It’s not the only reason. Phil knows it’s not the only reason, but this one makes him laugh and that’s exactly what Dan wanted.

“Right, of course,” he says. “Can’t have that, now can we?”

“Of course not,” says Dan. He reaches up, resting his finger over the record button. “Now, ready to initiate the gay love story of the century?”

Phil smiles, the crinkly kind that always precedes a joke. “I thought we did that in 2009,” he says.

Dan rolls his eyes and makes the stupid goose honk noise he always does when Phil says something like that. Phil copies him and then bursts into laughter.

He’s laughing, too, when he hits record. He’ll just cut this bit out later.

---

Dan starts scripting the video in March.

Well, there’s been fragments of it littered across his harddrive and notebooks for years, but this is the first time he sits down and truly decides he’s going to write a coming out video. He has three months to do it and years of thinking about it supporting him and it feels like enough.

It feels like so, so much.

He sits there for a few hours. When he walks away, the document’s still blank.

---

There are a few specific videos that make Dan realize how much he’s changed.

Giving The People What They Want is one of them.

He watches it back after editing, hand hovering over the mouse to cut out any stray frames that might have made it through the process. Phil’s sitting next to him, hunched forward and gaze locked on the screen. He’s smiling before the true content of the video has even started.

Dan is too.

It’s different from anything they’ve made before. Dan of five years ago would find it absolutely mind boggling to watch. Dan of today knows that’s something he should very much be proud of.

There’s gay jokes, and talk about their future, and the type of YouTube challenge usually reserved for couples. The first video they ever made together is in it.

It makes Dan’s heart ache to know he can actually acknowledge that day again.

“Looks great,” says Phil when the video’s done. “I think they’ll like it.”

“They better. We’re giving the people what they want, Phil.” He laughs. “And we have, like, a shit ton of tour tickets to sell.”

Phil bumps their knees together under the desk. “Hush,” he says. “You know that’s not the only reason this is important.”

Dan does.

It feels just as significant that the thought doesn’t terrify him.

---

“I want to post the video in June,” he says.

Phil doesn’t need to ask what the video is. It’s been a little part of their conversations since the year started.

He just yelps at the TV as a green shell narrowly misses his car and then turns to Dan and asks, “For pride month?”

“Yeah.” Dan rounds a corner. He’s losing part of his lead to the computer, but it doesn’t matter. “Seems fitting, don’t you think?”

Phil nods, then squeaks at the game. “Yeah, for sure.”

They’re quiet then, until they finish the race. Dan manages to salvage his victory and Phil just barely edges around the Koopa Troopa to finish in second. He tosses the remote down on the sofa cushion as the podium sequence comes up on screen and turns to Dan instead.

“Are you sure you want to do it during tour?” he asks. “People are going to ask about it.”

Dan shrugs. “I just want to do it.”

Phil rests his hand on Dan’s leg and squeezes his ankle gently. “But?”

Dan swallows. Sometimes he wishes Phil wasn’t so good at hearing all the things Dan doesn’t say. “That means I need to tell my family before June,” he says.

He wonders when that became the scariest part. Maybe it always was.

---

Interactive Introverts is a lot like TATINOF.

There’s a car and a set and rehearsals followed by shows followed by travel. It’s busy, positively hectic, but Dan loves it. He’s always loved it.

They sign more rainbow flags and hear more stories. They’re more open and honest. Their Instagrams are filled with snapshots of their actual lives and it should be weird but it isn’t.

Dan didn’t expect to like that part, but he does.

---

His family comes to the London show again.

They come back to the flat afterwards. Dan could tell them then, over champagne and celebration. He’s settled into the sofa next to Phil, with his mum across the room and his grandparents nearby and he could so easily just be like, hey I’ve been meaning to tell you guys that I’m gay.

Except it’s not that easy.

His mum is smiling. His nan is talking about how proud she is. Dan’s whole world feels bubbly with post-show excitement that won’t crash for another few hours.

He could say it, but he doesn’t.

---

They leave the UK at the end of May.

Dan leaves his last chance to tell them behind.

He and Phil curl up in their own bed the day before flying to the Netherlands and part of him, a big, overwhelming part of him, wants to cry. Instead, he just stares at the wall, the endlessly shifting shades of black that have kept him company through even darker nights, and lets Phil hold him.

“I couldn’t do it,” he says into the silence. “I want to but I – I don’t know how. ”

Phil’s arms clutch tighter around his middle. It should be a day of celebration. It should be one last night having sex in their own bed before bouncing around hotel rooms and bunks for months on end. Instead, it’s the brush of Phil’s lips against the round of his shoulder, reassurances spoken in a whisper.

“You don’t have to tell them if you’re not ready,” says Phil.

Dan wants to say I am ready.

He thought he was. Obviously he was wrong.

---

June goes by and he doesn’t upload the video.

It’s not even made, not fully scripted, and yet there’s still something bitter that twists in his stomach when June 30th bleeds into July 1st while they’re in the Middle-of-Fucking-Nowhere, USA. He squeezes into Phil’s bunk that night, too big bodies squished into a too small bed, and watches whatever stupid animal video Phil’s watching.

His brain doesn’t have the energy to do much else.

July goes by and he still doesn't upload. Then August. Then September.

He can blame the tour for those months. They’re still busy, still traveling the world and that’s reason enough to not have time to sit down and make something he’s willing to put out.

Then October passes, and November.

December comes and they don’t do gamingmas. They end Dan vs. Phil and leave the Sims on a high note. Just in case, Phil says when they plan things out.

“It won’t be forever,” says Dan. “I just need to, like, actually live my truth.”

Phil smiles. He reaches out and rests his hand on Dan’s cheek. “I know,” he says. “You will.”

---

Step one is actually coming out to his parents this time.

It’s also the hardest step. Dan’s had months to finish writing the rest of the video, to figure out what he wants to with it, but he knows it can’t be finished until he does this. As distant as their relationships may sometimes be, he refuses to come out to his family at the same time as a million strangers on the internet.

Hence, well, step one.

He tries. A lot. Sometimes it feels like after TATINOF, when the guilt of not having told them yet outweighs his ability to say a word about it. Other times, it feels like after Interactive Introverts, when everyone seems happy and saying anything feels like it would ruin that.

Step one is a failure the first time, and the second, and the third.

May comes around again. This time last year, the anticipation faded into disappointment and Dan’s progress seemed to crumble as he prepared to step onto a plane to the rest of Europe.

This year, he sits down with his laptop and tells Phil, “I’m just gonna email them.”

“Your coming out?”

Dan nods. He hopes he looks more certain about it than he feels.

Phil smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Let me know if you need anything.”

---

Dan cries that night.

Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. The very best kind of tears that leave his head feeling happy and his chest feeling light and his whole world brighter than it was that morning. He has emails from his family saved forever, and his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around him, and every time he thinks he feels steady again, another wave comes.

His eyes burn. He doesn’t care.

His family knows . And they still love him.

It’s everything little Dan would have wanted.

---

He films the video in a studio with an actual background and fancy lights.

It’s still his camera that sits on the tripod. It’s still Phil who sits behind the camera, with a proud smile on his face and the script Dan wrote clutched between his hands. It’s a jacket he’s worn many times before draped over his shoulders and the curls he finally embraced resting atop his head and that’s exactly what Dan wanted.

He feels like himself.

He stares into a lens and says, “I’m gay,” and feels more like himself than he has in a very, very long time.

---

He posts the video in June.

His hands are shaking and his heart is racing and he stays on his computer just long enough to watch the internet freak out about the title before closing his laptop and setting it aside. Phil drapes an arm over his shoulder and holds him close. They throw on an episode of The Office . Dan’s pretty sure neither of them watch it.

On the coffee table, his phone chimes with texts from friends and family. His Twitter notifications are probably beyond crazy. It’ll be a while before he ventures into the YouTube comment section.

For now, he just sits in his own home, smiling, and gives himself time to be proud.

That’s what he’s fought for most, after all.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #callie writes words #this is 100% a work of fiction #if you feel it's invasive please don't read #as someone who's struggled with my own sexuality I just wanted to explore this

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secretstanner · 4 years

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hold me in your arms, take the pain away

Chapter one Pairing: Dan Howell/ Phil Lester

Rating: Not yet rated

Tags: AU Circus, Strangers to Lovers, Impiled Character Death, Angst With Happy Ending, Slow Burn. Character death is NOT main character. Summary: Phil Lester is stuck working for his father’s newspaper, when given an assignment; He must write an article about the first circus to return to Manchester in over 10 years.

He arrives at the circus expecting to be reminded of childhood memories. It turns out to be so much more than that when he meets Dan Howell.

I posted the first and only chapter to this back in late 2018 but my mental health stopped me from posting. I really think this can be better than the idea I had over a year ago. Chapter two will be posted next week

Word count: 3k

AO3

He was sat at his typewriter, staring blankly at the keys beneath his fingertips. What was he writing about again? He couldn't remember, and he certainly did not care. His foot tapped impatiently as he thought about how he came to be stuck in this unwanted job. It was all because of one person. His father.

Phil was shaken out of his thoughts when a pair of legs appeared, standing in front of his desk. They belonged to his boss, Mr Johnson. He was a short, fat man, balding with prominent wrinkles adorning his face, caused by stress at the age of fifty-three. The buttons of his crinkled white shirt strained against the incredible amounts of fat around his once slim belly.

Phil didn’t even have time to greet him before a hand came slamming down on top of his hardwood desk. There, in his cigarette stained fingers, was a large poster screwed up in a tight fist, digits curled around the paper with such a forceful grip that made it look like the paper would tear at any moment. It was way too damaged to go back to its original form, as the sheet was ruined and almost void of any colour it once had. It was now ripped and curled in on itself because of rain and intense sunlight.

He strained his eyes harshly to properly read what the poster once said. The Wonder Requiem Cirque. A circus? Why was Mr Johnson bringing him this poster?

He still remembered the first time he stepped foot in a circus. It was better than his imagination could have ever led him to believe. An enormous red and gold striped tent fixed to the once muddy field, now brought to life with twinkling light and unique performers, greeting young children as they ran inside.

That was the first and last time he had ever been to one. He couldn’t remember much of that afternoon, but he held on to any broken memories that he had yet to fully piece together. It was one of the best days of his young life. He never did much other than attend school and his father's workplace, so something as magical as a circus coming to the city was more than his young brain could fathom.

Circus performers were given a bad reputation after the incident that happened 12 years ago. It shocked most of the city and left the performers cast away; some even branded them as freaks. Whispers were heard every now and again of them being in nearby towns but none had dared to come back to Manchester.

Even with that being over 10 years ago, he couldn’t help but still feel like that same little boy who once thought how incredible it would be to travel all round the world in a circus. Not that he had talent good enough that people would pay to see him. No, he was way too clumsy for anything that would need to gain attraction.

No matter how old he grew, it would always be a distant dream that stayed in the back of his mind. He often wrote fiction about traveling to places like The United States. But that was only fiction, never to become a reality.

Realising he hadn’t spoken yet, he cleared his throat and said, “A circus, sir?”

With his heart beating at a fast pace, he tried to hide his excitement. Mr Johnson moved his face, so it was merely inches away from Phil’s until he was leaning

across the desk. His heavy stature caused the table to creak when he placed both of his hands on the hardwood, as it struggled to hold his weight.

“Yes, Philip, the circus freaks are back!”

‘Freaks’? Why did that word sting like someone took a lit cigarette and pressed it to his bare flesh? Was it because he felt that word applied to him?

As a child, he would write stories about running away to the circus and almost did at one point in his life. He didn’t want what his father planned for him; to get a job at his father’s newspaper company, marry a beautiful young woman, and start a family. Even at 9 years old, Phil knew he couldn’t let that happen, well, not yet at least. He wanted to explore and as a boy, running away was the only solution his mind could conjure. Now at the age 24, he knew the best he could do was put off marrying as long as possible and if that meant doing what he was told, Phil would do it.

How could Phil respond to Mr Johnson’s words? What did he need from him? Phil just stared at him, trying to not indicate that those words affected him.

Mr Johnson finally spoke once again. “Do you know how much attention this will bring to the city, Philip? It’s been years, and we are the first to know about this. I looked all around town and didn’t find a single flier. We need to contact them before any of the other local news outlets get a hold of this.”

All Mr Johnson cared about was money and being the first to write an article about this would be the talk of Manchester.

He knew he had to ask. “What exactly do you want to contact them about? To give an interview?” Mr Johnson shrugged. Phil let out a small sigh “Who are you going to get to write about it, sir?”

Phil didn’t think for a second that he would be given this assignment. He was never the one given the interesting topics; he would always be given the pages towards the back of the newspaper, only ever given mundane activities to write about. Phil was sure no one cared to ever read it - except for his mother, of course.

“You will. Roger doesn’t have the—the same way with people like you do. You could get as much behind-the-scenes information as possible. People trust you, Philip. You’re odd, people take trust in that. They won’t be worried about what they tell you.”

He was right. Phil was so odd that no one would have ever seen Phil as a threat. He was tall and slim, with shaggy black hair he slicked back with gel and small round frames that sat at the bridge of his slightly beaked nose. No one would ever find him intimidating. He was good with people and very well liked at university. He knew people found him credible.

“What is it that you need me to report on?”

Mr Johnson smiled, yellow stained teeth showing as he spoke, “I want you to find out about the death of the performer. See if they knew anything about the circus it happened in, where are the people who worked there? I’m sure they heard about it, their kind must have been aware for none to have come here, until now that is.”

“What makes you think they would even tell us any information? They won’t agree to talking to a newspaper.”

“Like I said Philip, they trust you. Make friends with the carnies if you have to. We’ll make them an offer they can’t refuse. No one says no to free publicity.”

Phil really didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to trick these performers into giving information and then have to write about It. He knew he had to do this. If Mr Johnson spoke to his father, Phil knew that it would only cause trouble. Phil really did the bare minimum, only being employed because his father had a say in him being there. He didn’t want to cause his father any trouble.

Phil straightened up directing his body to face Mr Johnson. He had to pretend he wanted to write this article. Phil let out an unsure breath and said, “When do I start?”

————————————————————————

Dan felt a warm breeze caressing his bare arms. As he made his way outside, he noticed a torn envelope by the trailer door that hovered over the freshly cut lawn.

“What you got there, Dan?” He looked up to see the petite figure of a young female standing a foot away. He held up his hand trying to block out the sunlight beams that blocked his vision.

The girl was beautiful; she possessed intense coffee coloured eyes, heart-shaped lips and thick waves of chocolate hair. It was Hazel, his best friend he’d known since he was barely 5 years old. Her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail tied with a light red ribbon, matching the rouge on her cheeks. However, a few of her locks escaped their confinements and lay sprawled across her forehead. She looked just like Dan, people would often mistake them for twins when they were younger and at the time, they played up to the deceiving act.

“Hey, Hazy. I don’t know, I found it just outside my door. Vincent must have left it there. It was opened when I found it.”

Hazel moved closer to Dan and sat next to him, blocking the entrance to his trailer. “Why don’t you read it?” She questioned, her eyes flicking from Dan to the ripped envelope.

Dan quickly bumped shoulders with her. “I was just about to, you know, right before you came and distracted me.” He said with a playful grin.

Hazel swatted Dan’s arm. “Just open it, Stupid bugger!”

Dan let out a howl of laughter. “Oh, is there really any need for name-calling?” Hazel just gave him an unimpressed look. “Fine, fine, I’m opening it now.”

100 York road,

Manchester,

MA1 4HH

Vincent. P. James, The Wonder Requiem Cirque

I’m writing from Manchester’s local newspaper, The Lester Standard. We heard news of your arrival to Manchester and thought it would be interesting to interview some of your circus folk for an article. As you are probably aware, there has not been such an attraction in the city for many years. Our establishment could gain you a lot of publicity, that is, if you allowed it, as we are one of the top news outlets.

I will send Mr. Lester, son of the founder of The Lester Standard and our best writer. We can assure you that this young man will be nothing but well-behaved. I would have him shadow and interview your performers to get a behind the scenes look at how carnie folk live. I have left the address for The Lester Standard if you wish to reply.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Mr Johnson

Hazel turned to meet Dan’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Dan didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want someone to demand questions about their way of life.

“I--I think if this is what Vincent wants, then we should do as he pleases. I’m sure he is aware of all the things that may go wrong. But this Mr Johnson from the letter is right. Publicity, free publicity is what we need now more than before. We have barely gotten by for the past few years, we need this.”

Hazel shot him a sympathetic smile. “Are you going to go find him?”

Dan placed the sheet of paper back in the envelope. “Yes, I need to know what he needs from me. There must be something if he left this at my door.”

She stood to move away, but not before turning back to Dan. “Come find me later?”

He gave her a reassuring nod and Hazel bashfully placed her petite hand on Dan’s cheek, giving a quick peck to his lips before she hurried away.

Dan set out on finding Vincent, who had known him since the day he was born. Vincent was younger then, his head full of tawny locks was now left with sparse silver specks that no longer covered his scalp. The once gorgeous showman was now replaced with the 60-year-old man old enough to be a grandfather. He was exactly that for many runaways he housed over the years, asking for nothing, not even a penny and giving everything he could. Maybe that’s why everything they had was falling apart. It was the reason they had ended up in Manchester.

Dan soon stood in the small dining tent. It was close to noon, maybe he would have luck finding him. As he was searching, he spotted Dorothy. She looked a lot like Hazel, being her mother and all, but she didn’t hold the same youthful appearance as her daughter did. He spoke as he made his way over to her. “Dee! Have you seen Vincent?”

“Sweetie,” She took Dan’s face in her hands, small fingers running across his stained pink cheeks. She kissed his forehead gently and answered his question when she saw the impatient look on his face. “Yes, not so long ago I saw him next to his trailer. Is there something you need, Mon Cher?”

“I found a letter he left me this morning, I just wanted to ask him about it.”

“Ah well you better find him, he said he was heading into town, so go quick before he’s gone.”

Dan thanked her by kissing her hand and ran towards Vincent’s trailer.

In the distance he saw Vincent, dressed in his best day clothes–definitely not something he’d wear everyday working around the tents. They didn’t dress up unless they had a show. His blazer and trousers made from dark brown wool that looked like it would scratch the naked skin underneath, causing minor grazes. The clothes were a little outdated - they looked as if they were about to burst trying to stretch across his oversized frame.

“Vincent,” Dan yelled, hoping that he was heard from across the field. He was in luck when he saw him turn to see Dan running towards him. Dan gasped from running at such a rapid speed. Once he was a few feet away from Vincent, he huffed a laugh while bending over to catch himself from collapsing.

Vincent chuckled, eyes forming deep creases above his cheeks. “Don’t go killing yourself, Dan.”

Dan stood up straight once he was sure he would not faint. “Are you heading out?” He remembered Dorothy said he was going into town, he assumed it was to give Mr Johnson an answer.

“I was, did you by any chance read the letter I left for you?”

“I did. Why did you need me to read it?” He assumed it was because he needed to be interviewed. Dan wasn’t a performer anymore, but he knew a lot about how everything worked around here; he had a lot of information that Mr Lester would need.

“Well, they’re sending Mr Lester over to write a report and I need someone to help him. As you know, once everyone finds out about him being here to write for a newspaper, they won’t be very forthcoming with him.” He paused to clear his throat. Dan could see the stress taking over his body: it aged him prematurely. “We need this, Dan. I don’t know how much longer we can last; this article can bring in crowds of unimaginable amounts of people. Ones we haven’t ever had or at least since before…”

Dan remembered they once had the most popular circus that was known by all towns and cities around. People would flock for miles just to see one performer in particular. They needed something to help them before it was too late.

“I’ll do it for you—I’ll do it for us.”

Vincent’s shoulders dropped dramatically like every ounce of stress had flowed from his body out into the hot air. “Thank you, Dan. Your parents would be so proud of you, you know that, don’t you?”

Dan knew that, and it was the only thing that kept him going, kept him here with this makeshift family they all created together. He couldn’t help but smile, no matter what had happened in his past. At 19 years of age his life was only just beginning.

“Yeah, I know, how could they not be? I mean, look at me.” He gestured to himself, stood wearing the darkest pair of slacks he could find, brown coloured braces and a white tee.

“I’m the gorgeous piece of arse that brings the crowds flocking in.” Dan couldn’t help a smirk at the sarcasm that dripped from his tongue. He was rarely seen by any of the audience. He preferred to stay in the background these days, helping the acts get ready for the show and bringing them water once they finished performing.

Vincent’s face had turned red from holding his breath. He finally released a snort of laughter that he was holding in. “Yes, Dan, what would any of us do without—your arse? And really, it seems like Hazel is the only person you can get to flock to you.”

Dan let out a nervous laugh before sighing. He reached up to smooth the back of his neck. “Ha, yes, you aren't wrong there.”

Vincent rolled his eyes at Dan’s uneasiness. “Oh now, a beautiful girl that’s been falling for you since you weren’t even teens, sounds just the worst there, Dan.”

“Sorry, I’m just having an off day, think the sun’s getting to me.”

Dan looked up to see Vincent’s grin, giving him a knowing look. He was a kind and gentle person, Dan knew he meant nothing by it. “Yes, I know. I will actually head off now. I want to get there and back before dark. Do you think you could tell some of them? I don’t want to leave it too long before Mr Writer Man is here.” He said as he puffed out his chest to imitate what this reporter might be like.

“I’ll go find Hazel, I promised I’d meet her as soon as I finished talking to you.”

Vincent took Dan in a warm embrace before turning away and opened his car door. It was about an hour drive to the city, so he needed to leave now.

#phanfic #phanfiction #hold me in your arms #my fic

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paradisobound · 5 years

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Sail Away With Me: Part 6

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mild Sexual Content

Pairing: Instagraminfluencer!dan and CEO!Phil

This is a chaptered work. Updates every Saturday around 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN | WATTPAD**

PHIL POV

“I’m close.”

“Me too.”

Phil thrust in one final time into the male and then fell forward, hiding his face in the males neck. He told himself he wouldn’t do this again. But he fell into bed with the first male he saw at his party tonight and now he’s here in an awkward situation. The male hasn’t finished and he’s feverishly working his hand over himself to do so and Phil is already pulling out and ready to get cleaned up.

The male finishes and they both stand up and separate as Phil takes his clothing and walks to his en-suite bathroom. He doesn’t even remember what the males name is. He just can’t help but notice the resemblance to another certain male that he, hopefully gets to meet tomorrow.

He washes up and cleans up in his bathroom and walks out to see the male is gone and his clothes are gone too. He goes to his bed and runs his hands over his hair and face as he struggles to come to terms with what he’s doing.

He’s just hoping that by tomorrow night, he’ll have the actual male he wants in his bed. Not just some random male to fill the hole in his heart. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out the necklace that he can’t wait to give back to Ethan. He holds it in his hand and looks it over one more time before throwing it into its safe place and laying down into his bed, hoping sleep will come a bit easier.

He tosses and turns most of the night and by the dawn, he’s almost fully awake with nerves. He gets up from bed and walks to his living room to be pleasantly happy that all of the guests are gone and minimal needs to be done to adjust his place.

Phil gets out his laptop and opens it up as he takes a seat on his couch and looks through his emails and then decides he need to just stop doing that. He goes onto Instagram, something he doesn’t do very often, he finds himself looking through random things on his explore page.

But suddenly he comes across a profile from daniel_howell and he clicks on it because the male looks just like Ethan. But the photo can’t be right because this guy is named Daniel and...his head is playing tricks on him. It has to be. He can’t let it do this or else he’ll never find his Ethan.

He gives up on staying up and decides to go back to sleep, hoping his delirious thoughts of this person go away by the time he wakes up for real.

***

“I had the weirdest experience on Instagram last night.” Phil says to Jeanna as he gets to his office a few hours earlier to prepare for meeting his Ethan.

“What happened?” She asked in between bites of her lunch from Costa. She had even brought Phil a sandwich and he thanked her immensely for that since he hadn’t thought to even eat today.

“I went on Instagram and this guy showed up on my explore page and I could have sworn it was Ethan.”

Jeanna’s eyes widened and she looked at him with her hands in the air. “Phil, that’s fantastic!”

“But there is no way that it could be.” Phil says, immediately shutting Jeanna down. “Because the guys profile said his name was Daniel.”

Jeanna furrows her brows. “Oh that’s unfortunate.” She says. “It must be just someone who looks like Ethan.”

Phil shrugged and took another bite of food. He swallowed it down between answering. “But I’m almost sure it’s him.”

Jeanna just looked at him. “But if his name is Daniel, I doubt it would be, right?”

Phil shrugged again and then went back to eating.

“Can you find his profile for me?”

Phil looks back at Jeanna and fishes his phone out front his pocket, ignoring the way his fingers brushed against the necklace that he was still holding just in case he was able to give it back to Ethan today.

He opens his phone and goes to Instagram. He goes to the explore page and goes to the search bar and searches the name of the profile that had came up last night. He remembers it so vividly. He clicks on the profile and he feels his eyes widen a bit in his head because that was Ethan. This guy looked so much like him.

“So this is Daniel?” Jeanna asks, holding the phone in her hand. “He’s handsome.”

Phil felt his cheeks heat up. “Ethan looks just like him.”

Jeanna bites her lip and nods as she hands Phil his phone back. She doesn’t say anything more and Phil doesn’t either. They finish their lunch in peace.

They only had a few hours to pull this event off and if they didn’t get started, they would probably fall behind.

***

“I’m sorry, Phil.”

Phil doesn’t say anything. He just sits back in his chair and looks down at all of the photographs of the thousands of Ethan’s that showed up and feels his heart break a bit more. He shakes his head and tries to ignore the pang in his chest.

“I knew it wasn’t going to work.” He says. “Ethan’s gone.”

Jeanna puts her hand out and puts it on top of Phil’s. He was shaking a bit, both at the nerves that hadn’t quite went out of him and from the fact that he’d literally just spent three hours of his life meeting men that claimed to be his Ethan but no one even came close.

“We’ll find him.” Jeanna says, her voice soft. “I promise.”

***

DAN POV

“I couldn’t go.”

Sam just shook her head as she took a final drag from the spiff between her lips. She took the end and rubbed it out in the ashtray in her flat and blew the smoke out past her lips. He knew she would be disappointed.

“Why?” She asks.

“I didn’t want to confront him.” Dan says simply. “I didn’t want to go there and confront him after everything that has happened.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Get it all out now.” Dan says, rolling his eyes.

Sam sits up in the metal chair and looks shakes her head. “You’re really going to shoot your shot with Phil Lester because you don’t want to confront him?”

“What else am I supposed to do, Sam?”

“Go and see him!” Sam says. She picks up her phone and looks at the time and then sighs. “Fuck, actually. I bet he’s not even holding the meetings anymore. It’s well past five.”

Dan just shakes his head and pulls his legs tighter to his chest as he wraps his arms around himself. “I shouldn’t have gave him a fake name.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

Sam isn’t holding anything back and Dan lets out a sad sigh. He could really use the comfort of his best friend right now but he knows she’s not going to give him that. Not when she thinks he’s being an idiot about something.

“You should have gone.” She says, adding onto what she said before. “You should have gone anyway and just spoken to him. I’ve told you before that Phil is a nice guy. If you were to just tell him I’m sure he’d understand. If he’s this keen on finding you, he obviously thinks you’re worth it. Do you know how long its been since I’ve ever heard of Phil Lester dating someone?”

Dan shakes his head.

Sam lets out a sigh. “My family has known Phil Lester since he began his company. He got invited to all of my dad’s special meetings and they’ve always been two people who associated with each other. But since Lukas died, I haven’t seen Phil date anyone.”

Dan furrows his brows and opens his mouth. “Who is Lukas?”

Sam looks rigid and she tenses suddenly. Her mouth open and closes and then she finally answers. “You’ve never heard about Lukas Laurent?”

Dan feels like that name sounds familiar but he can’t really place how he would know so he shakes his head and rests his cheek on his knee as he looks over at Sam. “No I don’t think I have.”

“Lukas Laurent was the founder of Le Grand Amour, you know, Phil’s company. He and Phil technically founded it together but Lukas’s name was always the one getting recognized.” Sam swallows and pauses for a moment. “He was killed a few years in a hate crime in Paris. He was there for business and he went out to a bar one night for a few drinks and on the way back, he was ambushed. His body was found the next morning in a back alley.”

Dan’s mouth fell open and Sam nodded. She pulled her lips in a tight line and then let them go. “That’s horrible.”

“Phil took it really hard. He and Lukas had been together for over ten years and they literally built their lives together and...well, it was all ruined in just one night.” She sits up and adjusts her legs as she sits on her foot and swings the other. “So to know that Phil is looking for someone to love again is such a big deal, Dan. That’s why I’m saying that you should have went to that meeting. You should have went and told Phil who you are.”

Dan felt his eyes cloud up as he struggled to hold back the tears of guilt that were flushing his waterline. He felt like an idiot now. He felt guilty that he didn’t go and try and speak to Phil. And as he picks up his phone and looks at the empty calendar reminder, mocking him on his home screen, he shakes his head and looks out at the foggy London evening.

***

Dan sits the next few days alone in his London flat. He doesn’t bother to speak to Sam and he also doesn’t bother to make an effort to do anything. He does a few more sponsored Instagram posts and he answers a few more emails, but he mostly sits alone and thinks about the what if’s.

What if he had gone to meet Phil at his office? What if he had given Phil his actual name? What if he had made an effort to actually speak to Phil and not just run away with his tail between his legs?

He’s sitting in his flat on a Friday evening with a glass of red wine sitting on the coffee table. His toes are on the edge of the wooden table and he’s hoisted his laptop on his knees to his face.

He goes through a few more of his Instagram dm’s and he answers a few of them and then he notices how his follower count is growing a bit and he’s reached his next milestone, effectively having 500,000 followers now. Which is a lot, he reckons. And he doesn’t quite know what to think if he’s being honest.

Just as Dan is reaching for his glass of wine, his phone buzzes and he picks it up in his head. He reads over the notification saying it’s a dm on Instagram and he cocks his head because he just checked them and surely he can’t have another already?

He opens the message and he sees it is from someone named Jeanna Dupoint and he furrows his brows as he reads it over.

Hello Dan! My name is Jeanna and I’m Phil Lester’s assistant here at Le Grand Amour. Phil noticed your profile the other day and mentioned that you were very reminiscent of a man he met in Italy by the name of Ethan. In fact, he’s saying you both are identical. He doesn’t know I’ve messaged you but given his reaction at seeing your profile, I’m wondering...are you the Ethan Phil is speaking about?

Dan feels all breath leave his body and he begins to hyperventilate as he reads over the message over and over again. Should he answer it honestly? He should, shouldn’t he? He’d be stupid if he didn’t.

He begins to type out a message but then he deletes it and backtracks. Fuck, he doesn’t know what to do but the waiting isn’t going to help anything or anyone. He needs to answer her. He has to. He can’t let this get away. But before his thoughts fully can’t comprehend the situation, another message comes through.

I’d like to arrange a time for you and Phil to meet, if you’re okay with that? I know Phil says he has a necklace for you and if I remember correctly, I had a few conversations with someone over a missing necklace for Dan. Would that happen to be yours?

Dan sits back on his couch and curls up staring at his phone. He shuts his eyes and squeezes them tight as he struggles to gather his breath.

This wasn’t real. He had to be dreaming.

He picked up the wine glass and finished it all in one gulp.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #fluff #smut #angst #princesslexi763fics #sail away fic

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doomedhowell · 5 years

Text

Who Would’ve Thought?

Summary: Phil is really into literature/English in school, and Dan’s a “jock”. They’re total opposites, but find themselves being paired up together for a project in English class, and Dan eventually finds that Phil isn’t as bad as the entire school makes him out to be.

Genre: AU, Fluff

Word Count, 2,796

Trigger Warnings: swearing

[READ ON AO3]

A/N: This is my fic for the @phandomreversebang! I’m really happy with how this fic turned out. Thank you so much to @th-at-one-crazy-gi-rl for being my beta, and the wonderful art for this fic is done by @drawingdawnart [here]!!! Also, apologies if the ending seemed a little rushed. Hopefully, you still enjoy the fic though :)

“Come on Dan, be a little more excited about this project,” Phil says as he sits with Dan at the library. There’s quite a few books surrounding them on the table, but Dan hardly cares about any of these books.

“It’s English class. What’s so exciting about reading books?” Dan asks, scoffing.

“What?” Phil asks as he looks over at Dan with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? Reading books is so fun. There’s literally millions of books to read out there. Have you ever even read a book in your life?”

Dan instantly shoots a glare at Phil. “I’ve read a book,” he quickly defends himself.

“Sports magazines don’t count as books,” Phil adds. “I mean, like… a full length novel.”

“Did you not hear me, Lester? I’ve read a book,” Dan argues. “I’ve read the whole Harry Potter series.”

Phil raises his eyebrows. “Okay. I’m impressed, Dan, considering how long those books are,” he admits. “Well, maybe we could use the Harry Potter series for our project then. Although, I personally think that we should try a book that you haven’t read yet.”

Dan groans loudly. “Come on, dude. Why can’t we just pick a book that you’ve already read?”

“What? So I can do all the work? That’s not gonna happen,” Phil chuckles and shakes his head.

“The project is due in less than two weeks. How am I supposed to finish a book by then? Especially when I’ve got baseball practice all week. I’ve got a game coming up!” Dan argues. “I don’t have time to read.”

“Yes you do. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to read,” Phil argues back. “I’m not gonna do all of this project by myself. We’ve got hundreds of books to choose from. So, let’s pick one, okay?”

Dan sighs and he slumps down in his chair, knowing that there’s nothing he can say or do to get out of this project. Of course he gets partnered up with the biggest bookworms in the school. But to be fair, despite being total opposites, Dan actually doesn’t really mind Phil Lester. They have a few classes with each other, and most students don’t like him because he’s smarter and a “nerd”. Dan couldn’t care less. Phil’s nice, and they seem to be getting along with each other so far, which is all that matters to Dan.

“Have you ever read The Hunger Games series?” Phil asks as he looks over at Dan. It’s been about fifteen minutes, and they’re still trying to decide on what book they would use for their project.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said Harry Potter is the only book series I’ve read,” Dan tells him.

“Well, if you liked Harry Potter, then you’ll love The Hunger Games. It’s got three books, but of course, we only have to read the first book for our project. I can read a bit of the first book if you want.”

“No, you don’t-” Dan looks over and sighs when he sees Phil picking up the book. “Phil, seriously…?”

Phil clears his throat before he starts to read the first couple sentences from the book.

Dan tries his best to drown Phil’s voice out so that he doesn’t have to listen to him reading this book. But, nothing seems to work. He looks up at Phil and glares at him, but then his face softens as he actually starts to listen to Phil reading. Phil’s voice is soft and calming, something Dan hasn’t noticed before now. As Phil continues reading, Dan can tell Phil is passionate about reading. Just like he is with baseball.

Phil looks up at Dan once he finishes reading, and smiles. “So, what do you think?”

Dan blinks a few times. “Um,” he clears his throat and can’t help but blush. “Yeah. We can use that.”

“Perfect! I’ve already read this book-” Phil begins.

“That’s not surprising at all,” Dan mumbles, and smirks when Phil glares at him.

“As I was saying,” Phil continues. “I’ve already read the book. It’s been awhile, so I get to read it again. So, you can have this copy since I already have the series at home. You better read this book too, Dan. Seriously. No cheating by watching the movie.”

“Wait, there’s a movie?” Dan asks as his head perks up.

“Crap. I thought you already knew that. That doesn’t matter. I’ll be quizzing you about book stuff once you’ve finished reading. There may be a movie but they always leave out important stuff,” Phil scoffs. “Drives me absolutely mental when they do that. You know?” Phil looks up at Dan.

Dan raises his eyebrows as he stares at Dan. “No, I don’t know,” he says.

“Of course not,” Phil rolls his eyes. “We should put the rest of these books away then.”

“Seriously?” Dan whines. “You’re the one who pulled all these books out in the first place!”

“Because we needed all of them,” Phil argues as he stands up from his seat. “Now come on, Howell. Start grabbing these books.” He grins once Dan does as he’s told without arguing any further. Phil grabs a handful of books as well, and heads back over to the shelves, already knowing where each book goes.

Phil finishes putting books away before Dan.

“How did you do that so fast?” Dan asks when Phil walks up to him.

“I’ve read every book in this library,” Phil says like it’s nothing. “I already knew where they went.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Ugh. You’re so annoying,” he says, though there’s a joking tone in his voice. “Here. Take this.” He hands Phil another book. “Be a dear and put that away, will you?”

“Fine. So demanding,” Phil mumbles as he goes to put the book Dan handed him away.

Dan can’t help the smile that forms on his face as he watches Phil walk away.

Maybe these next two weeks won’t be as bad as Dan thinks.

Over the next few days, Dan continues to focus on his baseball practice rather than his project with Phil. It’s not like he’s purposely trying to forget about the project. He just would rather focus on baseball.

“Don’t forget about that project, Daniel!”

Dan cringes as soon as he hears his mother’s voice from the kitchen, and he instantly regrets telling her about the project he has with Phil. Not only does he have Phil reminding him every day, but now his mum will surely make sure to bug him about it as well. “I know, mum!” Dan shouts before running up the stairs and heading straight to his bedroom. He shuts the door and flops down onto his bed.

Dan grabs his book bag and starts pulling stuff out. He stops when he pulls out The Hunger Games book. He sighs as he stares at the book, knowing he’ll have to start reading it eventually. This project is a big part of their grade, and he knows Phil will be pissed at him if he’s the reason why they failed.

Dan bites his lip and glances at The Hunger Games DVD resting on his dresser. Of course he went out and bought the DVD as soon as Phil told him that there was a movie. It’ll take him ages to read the book, especially with how busy he is with all of his baseball practices. They’ve got a home game coming up.

Dan sighs, remembering what Phil told him about quizzing him about the book, and then he remembers Phil’s soft voice reading the first couple of pages from the book.

“Fuck it,” Dan mumbles, leaning back against his pillows and opening the book to the first page.

When Phil gets to school the next morning, he’s surprised when he finds Dan at his locker, hardly paying any attention except for the book in his hands. This is the last thing Phil expected. He never thought that Dan would actually read the book. He thought for sure that he would somehow cheat.

Phil smiles, and heads over to Dan’s locker. “How’s the book?” He asks calmly.

Dan doesn’t even startle. “You know, it’s actually not that bad…” He looks up at Phil. “I’ve been reading it all night, and I’ve only got three chapters left. I didn’t think I would enjoy it, but… I have been.”

“You’ve been reading it all night?” Phil asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Mm-hmm,” Dan nods. “I have to read the next two books. “Do they have them at the library?”

“Of course,” Phil says, blinking a few times. “You know, I’m really impressed Dan.”

“What? I had nothing else better to do with my time. I figured… I might as well just read the damn book,” Dan shrugs and looks over at Phil with raised eyebrows. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“I know. I just thought for sure that you would somehow cheat your way out of reading,” Phil admits.

Dan chuckles and shakes his head. “I know how to read. I just don’t like reading is all,” he says. “But, maybe you’ve changed my mind, Lester. Not many people can do that, you know?”

Phil grins at Dan, and he goes to open his mouth to reply, but stops when a couple of guys from the baseball team walk up to Dan. Phil hates the boys on the baseball team. They’re all jerks who think they’re better than everyone else. Excluding Dan. He can be an asshole, but at least he’s nice.

“Howell, what are you doing hanging out with nerdy Lester?”

Dan rolls his eyes and closes his book, glaring at the three boys. “Shove off, Mikey,”

“And what the hell are you doing with this?” One of the other boys asks, going to take Dan’s book, but Dan quickly pulls the book back before he can, and he ignores the glare he gets from the boy.

“It’s called a book, Alex,” Dan replies sassily. “I’m reading it for my project in class. What do you want?”

“Well, Howell, some of us wanted to have our own little practice before the home game this weekend, and we thought we’d come ask if you wanted to join us?” Mikey asks.

“Sure, that sounds-” Dan glances over at Phil and bites his lip slightly when he sees the look on his face. “Uh, actually. I just remembered that I promised Phil we could work on our book project this week. But, maybe I can join if there’s some time on Friday? A little extra practice can’t hurt anybody.”

“Really? You’re blowing us off to do school work with nerdy Lester?” Mikey asks angrily.

“Seriously, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore Howell,” Alex adds. “Forget it. We don’t need you.”

“Coach would disagree with that,” Dan replies with a smirk.

“You shut the fuck up,” Mikey snaps. “Come on boys. We need to go practice.” He grabs the other two and the three boys walk away without saying another word.

“Wow. I- I can’t believe you just did that, Dan...” Phil says with shock. “They already hate me enough, but you don’t want your own teammates hating you. And, isn’t the home game pretty important?”

Dan laughs, and looks at Phil. “What? We’ve been practicing all last week. I don’t need more practice, and besides… we need to work on the project. We only have a week left and we haven’t even started. Look, I’ll have the book finished by the end of the day, and we can start working on the presentation.”

“Okay then, if you’re sure. Shall we work on the project at my house or your house?” Phil asks.

“Mine,” Dan replies. “What’s your number? I’ll text your my address, and you can come over tonight.”

“Okay,” Phil grins, and pulls out his phone so that he and Dan can exchange numbers.

“I’ll text you my address when I get to class,” Dan says.

Phil gasps. “Oh no. I’ve got to get to my locker. I’m going to be late. See you later, Dan!”

Dan raises his eyebrows as he watches Phil take off towards his locker, and he can’t help but laugh.

****

Dan and Phil work on the project for two days at Phil’s house during the week, working on putting together a poster filled with facts and pictures, and an essay attached along with it as well.

Dan comes to the realization that Phil isn’t as bad as people have made him out to be all these years.

Despite being a nerd, they actually have quite a few things in common with each other. The two boys love the same type of music and watch the same movies. They’ve bonded over how much they love Muse. Dan’s never gotten along with someone like Phil, mostly because he's too worried about his reputation. But now, he doesn’t really care about what other people think. It’s his decision to hang out with Phil.

Dan even invites Phil to come to the home game the baseball team are playing. Of course Phil agrees, even though he’s not really into sports. He still wants to support Dan. Dan would do the same for him.

“You came,” Dan grins when he spots Phil at the game. The game is just about to start any minute now.

“Of course. I said I would come, didn’t I?” Phil grins at Dan.

“You did, yeah. But, I also know that sports aren’t really your thing,” Dan points out.

“That is true. But, how bad can baseball be? Maybe I’ll end up liking it,” Phil shrugs lightly. “Like how you ended up liking the book we read for our project. Can you believe we finished the project in two days?”

“Even when we kept getting distracted by Muse,” Dan laughs. “We did a pretty damn good job though.”

Phil nods. “Yeah. We should celebrate. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow if you’re not too busy?”

“Actually, there’s a party after the game tonight if you wanna come? I’ll be there,” Dan says.

“A party?” Phil asks, biting his lip nervously. “I- I don’t know. I’m not really a party kind of guy, you know?”

“Well, um, just... let me know if you want to come by the end of the game. We can ride there together,” Dan sighs. “I really have to go now. The game’s about to start, and coach will kill me if I’m not over there in time.” He laughs, and smiles one last time at Phil before turning around and heading towards his team.

Phil takes a deep breath as he watches Dan, and then turns around to go find a seat.

In the end, their team ends up winning. They absolutely destroyed the other team. Even though Phil doesn’t know a thing about baseball, he understood the basics and actually enjoyed the game.

“Dan! That was awesome!” Phil exclaims when he and Dan meet up after the game. “You killed it!”

Dan laughs as Phil pulls him into a hug. “Thanks. I can’t believe it,” he pulls away from the hug and kisses Phil without thinking. His eyes widen as soon as he realizes what he’s done, and he quickly pulls away.

“Um, I-” Phil mumbles as his cheeks turn bright red. “Dan?”

“I’m so sorry,” Dan quickly apologizes, his cheeks equally as red. “I- I have no idea why I just did that.”

“It’s okay,” Phil tries to reassure him. “It’s not like I’m complaining about it.”

“What?” Dan asks, blinking a few times as he looks up at Phil. “You’re saying you liked it?”

“The kiss? Um, y- yeah,” Phil mumbles as he looks down at his feet. “So-” He coughs awkwardly. “Um… about that party?” He looks up at Dan again. “I think I want to go. I’ve already texted my mum.”

Dan smiles, and nods. “C- Cool. Yeah. The party… We should, um… go to that. Fuck,”

Phil giggles, and Dan almost melts at how adorable Phil is.

“We should talk about the kiss though, shouldn’t we?” Dan asks as they start walking together.

“Yeah… maybe. But, let’s enjoy the party tonight, yeah? You’ve won the game. We should celebrate you,” he says, and throws his arms around Dan, and smiles even wider when Dan leans against his touch.

“Crazy, huh? Who would have thought people like us would end up becoming friends?” Phil asks, grinning as he looks over at Dan.

“So, you’re saying we’re friends now?” Dan asks.

“If that’s okay with you?” Phil bites his lip nervously. “I understand...”

“Relax,” Dan lets out a laugh. “Of course it’s okay with me, you big doofus.”

This is so not how Phil thought his night would turn out, but he’s certainly not complaining.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #au #fluff #firstkiss #gettingtogther #highschool #nerd!phil #sports #teenagers

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timelock97 · 5 years

Text

Time Never Stops

Chapter One: Always Interrupting

Word Count: 1763

Prologue

Warnings: Language, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Present Day]

I enter my newly furnished recording studio with a water bottle in one hand and a plate with a sandwich on it in the other. I set the plate down and reach under my desk to start my computer for today's events. While I wait, I spin around in my swivel chair and look at the room. The black and green padding on the walls were set in a diagonal pattern, and a white board with this weeks schedule placed in between some of the padding. Two bookshelves sit nestled against the back wall on either side of the door; the shelves are covered in merch, fan gifts, and several pictures of friends and me. Most of the pictures had been of Tom and I throughout the years, my favorite of the bunch sitting beside my monitor on my desk. His arm is around my waist while he stands behind me, donning a pair of black swim trunks, smiling into the side of my face as I laugh in a black and white checkered bikini. We are standing in the ocean, vacationing in Hilton Head, South Carolina, when we were seventeen.

Tom Holland, my best friend for as long as I can remember, and long time crush. Gotta love that the one person that knows you the best, happens to be the one that you fall for so easily. I didn't know if it was his sunshine smile, the infectious laugh, or the fact that he knows me better than I know myself; but, he is the one person I wish nothing more to have at my side for the rest of my life. However, it isn't that simple. With him being busy with his acting career and me being busy with YouTube, we hadn't had much time to spend together, not that it would have changed anything. Tom is my best friend, and that was that. I just have to be happy that he is still in my life after all these years, and hadn't lost contact while we went from immature teens to slightly more mature adults.

I smiled when my computer finally loads. I log on and set up my software before I clap my hands together, testing the frequency of the mic. I set up the game, placing my headphones over my beanie covered hair, and check to make sure that everything is running smoothly before I click record on the second monitor. I smile at the camera and begin my intro, "What's up, guys? You're on with Timelock! And today, as you can already tell, we are playing Detroit: Become Human. I have been beyond excited to play this game for the past three weeks, but of course since I was away in the UK visiting with Dan and Phil doing some fun videos and joining Sean, aka Jacksepticeye, and Mark, aka Markiplier, for a charity livestream kept me from starting the game. Which reminds me, I cannot believe how well we did on the livestream and I wanted to thank everyone who watched and participated with us across all platforms. You guys are amazing. Now going back to the game, Sean said that it is worth the wait, so without anymore interruptions, I hope, let's get started!"

"Holy shit, so that's what happened to Kara." I breathe as I move the character from Alice's room down to the first floor. I glance up at the next activity for the character, "See Todd for further instructions." I let out a gasp as I watch the scene unfold in front of me, watching as Todd yells at his daughter and frighten her. "Shit, I thought that was going to end badly, I mean, it could have. This game is already super interesting, now I know why everyone has been talking this game up! But, guys, the clock is ticking! Thank you so much for watching, and if you enjoyed the video, don't forget to give that like button a little bit of love. And I will see you, in the next one! Time-" I jump as my phone begins to blare the old Spider-Man theme song from inside my desk. I glance at the drawer and pull it out to see a picture of Tom sticking his middle finger up his nose, his name place directly over his face. I roll my eyes and look back at the camera. "I said there would be no interruptions, I stand corrected." I answer the phone, "Hold up thirty seconds, I'm saying my outro."

Tom's laugh echoes through the receiver, "Okay, okay."

"Let's try this again. Time resume." I point at the screen for a few seconds before I end the recording and place my phone back against my ear. "You really have impeccable timing. What is this, the sixth time in the past two weeks?"

"Sorry, love, figured you would be done by now." He chuckled, "And I miss you."

"I miss you too, Thomas." I smile, grabbing my camera so I can begin uploading the recording to my editing software. "How's filming?"

"Good, good," he pauses, shifting in the background. "We actually finished yesterday and are going to be heading out to start promoting the movie, then I am off to start filming for the newest Avengers movie."

"Ooh," I enthuse, plugging in my camera and shifting to save and close out of the game, "That sounds amazing, Tom." I sigh, happy to hear that he was doing well after long months of filming, advertising, repeating. "But it also sounds exhausting."

"Honestly, it is," he sighs. "How was London and Brighton? My mum said you visited and Harrison was sending me snapchats of you at the flat."

"It was really nice. Actually, Harrison decided, even though I discussed it with him a month previous, that he did not want to let me stay. However, Tessa pushed past him into the hallway when she heard me." I pause my rant as I hear Tom laugh at the statement, "It was an entertaining two weeks in London, and I spend two days with your mum, dad, and brothers. It was nice spending time with them and not having to worry about working." I say, watching the video finally load up into the editing software. "And Brighton was amazing. When you're home, and I can find time to fly out, we have to go and spend a week out there. Its beautiful."

"Sounds like a plan, bug." He sighs.

"I do have to edit, do you wanna Skype so we can continue the conversation?"

"Yeah, I'd love that," he whispered. I quickly pulled up my Skype, after a few minutes, his face popped up into my screen.

"Hey! Its my favorite boy!" I yell, throwing my hands over my head. I watched as Tom's smile fades as he looks behind me with knitted eyebrows. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"That's not your normal studio, is it?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"Oh, I thought I told you the good news?" I said rolling backwards so that I was in the middle of my recording studio, "I got the apartment!" I looked at him in excitement, but I noticed he wasn't smiling. "What's wrong? I thought you would be happy."

"I- I am, I just," he runs his hand through his hair, "God, I've missed so much by being gone all the time."

"Tom..." I murmur, "Hey, it's okay. What you're doing is just as important-"

"But, it's your first flat," he whispers, "I was going to come and help you unpack, make sure that your first night wasn't spent alone," he pouts at me, but I can see the small smile on his lips at the promise he made me years ago.

"I didn't spend it alone! I made a girls night out of it! I had Izzy, Haley, and Mia spend the night with me and it was a lot of fun. I know you wanted it to be you, but when you get done with everything I can show you the place." Tom sighs and places his head on his fist. "I know what'll make you feel better, how about I promise next time you are here we marathon all the Marvel movies."

"All the movies?" he teases, his frown disappearing. I nod and he smiles back, "That sounds awesome." He laughs.

I roll back up to my desk to start editing while Tom tells me about some of the more entertaining things that have happened the last few weeks. Another Skype message pops up from JacKyleGameplays, interrupting his rambling. Hey, TL. We and the girls are going to play some prop hunt, wanna join? ~Jac

"What was that?" Tom asks, tilting his head to the side.

"GameSquad wants to play prophunt," I state, getting ready to tell them that I had some things to finish and wouldn't be able to get on today.

"I'll let you go then-"

"No, it's okay, I can stay on." I tell him, looking back at the camera, "We always get interrupted, I can play prophunt any other time. I almost never see you anymore."

"You sure? I don't mind, I can just call later." Even though he says it's fine, I can see in his eyes he really doesn't want me to hang up.

"Nope, I want to talk to you, I can always talk to the GameSquad." I finish sending the message and mute the rest of my chats, "There, no interruptions this time."

"Is it because I am Mr. Always Interrupting?"

"Damn straight," I say giggling, "Now, who out of all the people you have played as is your favorite character? And you can't pick Spider-Man."

"But, I am Spider-Man!"

"No, you are Thomas Stanley Holland!" I shout playfully, making him laugh, "My best friend since two years old, my tiny-toddling husband, knight in shining armor, and the one person that knows me better than I know myself."

He immediately begins to laugh harder, "My Mum sent me that video of us "getting married" last week."

"I asked if she would since we found it. I was hoping it would make you smile."

"It did, my little lovely wife." He sighs, "and my favorite character? Definitely your best friend, because that's the one I get to play for the rest of my life."

A blush creeps up my neck as I look away from the screen, "That's cheesy, and you're only saying it because I said it first!"

"But being your best friend is my favorite thing, you know me more than I know myself."

"I should, I've known you my whole life" I whisper.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," he says with a dopey smile. "Now, what were you recording before I so rudely interrupted?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Comment and reblog! What did you think? Let me know if you want to be tagged. IDK what else I’m supposed to put at the bottom. I’m going to try and post chapters Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday (since I already finished writing it).

@revenantwriting

Chapter Two

#cg writes #tomhollandxyoutuber!reader #bestfriend!tom holland #best friends to lovers #bestfriendstoloversau #dad!tom holland #time never stops

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adorkablephil · 5 years

Text

Fic: Walking the Same Path

Title: Walking the Same Path Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,072 Author’s Note: Obviously not intended as speculation … I’ve just been missing Phil’s live shows. Yes, I’ve written something for the first time in a while! Also on AO3 here

Walking the Same Path

“You haven’t done a live show in a long time.”

Phil picked at a glob of cheese and pulled it off his slice of pizza, feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah, I know.” He really didn’t want to talk about this, and here Dan brought it up out of nowhere.

“Why not?” Dan asked casually, like this wasn’t a loaded question.

It just doesn’t feel right, not when this was Dan’s house, too, and Dan didn’t want to have an online presence right now. Inviting thousands of people into Dan’s home just felt rude. “Well, I know you’re not wanting to face all that right now.”

Dan chuckled. “It doesn’t have to be a joint live show, doofus. You don’t have to mention me at all.” If he did it, he knew Dan would prefer to keep his name out of it, but Phil wasn’t deluded. He knew the chat would be nothing but questions about Dan’s disappearance.

But Dan had known him too long, and so he apparently could read what Phil was thinking. “You were famous long before I came around,” he pointed out. “And you were interacting with your audience back then, too. Remember? I was one of those audience members.” He grinned.

When Phil didn’t respond, still just picking at the toppings on his slice of pizza, Dan continued, “You just have to get comfortable being Phil again, not just half of ‘Dan and Phil.’ I’m dealing with my own stuff, but that doesn’t mean you can’t deal with yours. ... And I can tell you miss them.”

Phil looked up and gazed into those brown eyes. He knew Dan just as well as Dan knew him. “You miss them, too,” he pointed out.

Dan nodded, looking down, pensive. “I do. But it’s different. I need the space right now.” He looked up again, meeting Phil’s eyes. “I think you need the closeness.”

“I’m close to you,” Phil replied immediately. “And you need me right now.”

Dan’s mouth formed a firm, stubborn line. “What about what you need?” Phil didn’t say anything. He wasn’t a selfish person, and he wasn’t going to make Dan uncomfortable just to make himself happier. Supporting Dan was more important right now. It was always more important. But Dan’s face looked more and more determined. “Remember the quiff? And the ripped jeans? You were starting to open up a strong, confident part of yourself with your audience, and you’ve shut it down again. Shut it down for me. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want it for me, either.”

Phil bit his lip and considered, trying to read Dan’s face and seeing only honest support there. Dan supporting him, instead of only him supporting Dan. It didn’t used to be support in only one direction. He started to see what Dan was saying, and how it made sense.

Dan said gently, “I think you should do what you want, and don’t let my stuff hold you back. I’ll come back when I’m ready, but I think you’ve been ready for a while. Most couples have separate jobs, do separate things, but they come back together over and over again, walking the same path even though they each have their own needs and interests. You don’t have to give up what you love in order to support me, just because we were working together for so long. We can still walk the same path together.”

“So,” Phil began hesitantly, “you think I should do a live show?”

“You can be here for me—you always are—but you can be here for them, too. This is something you’ve always loved ... don’t just throw it away. Do a live show. Tell them about Florida. Tell them about that pigeon yesterday, and the thing with the tomato juice and your new triops. Just ignore any questions about me. Just ... they’re your people, Phil. They love you, and you love them.” He smiled softly.

“You love them too,” Phil responded sadly.

Dan sighed. “Yeah, well, I need to work more on loving myself before I have anything left for anyone else.”

Phil reached out to take Dan’s hand. He used the clean hand, not the one that had been picking at the pizza. “Except me,” he replied, and he knew it was true.

“Well, loving you is completely selfish, because it makes me feel better than I do without you.” Dan’s brown eyes were soft and no one could have missed the love shining there.

“So you think I should do a live show?” Phil repeated, still nervous about invading Dan’s privacy in his own home, still anxious about facing all the inevitable invasive questions.

Dan laughed. “Have you seen the beard edits?” Dan rubbed a hand against the stubble on Phil’s face. He’d been lazy about shaving lately, since they hadn’t left the house in a few days. “Just post a picture of you with all this scruff, and I guarantee there will be plenty in the chat about how hot you look.” Dan shrugged. “Just ignore the chat questions about me.”

Phil shook his head in wonder. He never would have expected Dan to be truly okay with this. But here Dan was, encouraging him to do this, because he knew it would make Phil happy. And he seemed honestly comfortable with it.

“Do it,” Dan insisted with a mischievous smile. “At least post the photo. You know they’ll love it. Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram will go crazy.”

Phil hesitated. Okay, maybe the picture. That made him feel vulnerable enough. And maybe a live show soon. Not yet, though.

Dan squeezed his hand. “Hey, no pressure. Just remember how much they love you, and how much you love them. Then do what feels right when it feels right. That’s what I’m doing.”

Phil looked down at their hands linked together. They were walking the same path, he reminded himself, even if it wasn’t as obvious as it had once been.

“Maybe next week,” he conceded. “Maybe a live show next week.”

Dan chuckled, and he sounded happy. “But the scruff picture today,” he insisted. “That one’s not negotiable.”

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan fluff #fluffy phan #myphanfic

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under-the-blue-sun · 5 years

Text

hot chocolate

summary: matt is feeling sad, so phil decides to teach him how to make hot chocolate to cheer him up. based on a liveshow where phil makes hot chocolate for dan.

word count: 1645

rating: g rated + innocent

warnings: n/a

note: and in the classic way i always do things, i upload my first fic for @phandomficfests bingo fest the day before the date closes. oops. anyway, i hope you enjoy this mindless fluff. :)

read on ao3 | read on wattpad | read on ff.net

"Dad..."

Phil turned around and was surprised to see his son Matthew looking to the ground with a sad pout. Phil brushed his hair back in comfort.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Phil asked.

"I asked Papa where he put my reading diary and he told me that now was not the time. He seems angry. Did I do something wrong?" Matt asked, tears welling up in his eyes. Phil glanced at Dan at his desk, meticulously editing a main channel video.

"Oh sweetie...Papa's not angry at you, he's just very busy at the moment. Do you want to learn how to make hot chocolate?" Phil replied. Matt grinned widely.

"Yeah!" Matt cheered. Phil smiled back.

"Okay, but remember to be very quiet as Papa is very busy at the moment, got it?" Phil said.

"So...like a secret mission?" Matt asked. Phil chuckled.

"Yas, just like a mission." Phil said, taking Matt's hand to bring him to the kitchen. Phil smiled softly realising Matt was too short to reach the counter. Sometimes he forgot how small his boy really was until he compared his height with other things. After sorting out the chair for Matt to use, it was now Phil's job to pass on the great hot chocolate making skills down to his son.

"What do we do now?" Matt asked, excited.

"Well first, we decide which mug we want to use," Phil said, reaching into the cupboard to pull out some mugs. "Do we want the Mickey Mouse one, the Caesar's Palace one, the Universal Studios one or the Milka one?"

Matt inspected the mugs which his father had laid out. "What does Milka mean?" he asked.

"It's like German chocolate." Phil replied. Matt nodded in agreement, clearly only pretending to understand what that meant.

"Can I have the Mickey Mouse one?" Matt asked.

"You can have the Mickey Mouse one. I'll get the Milka one for myself and the Universal Studios one for Papa as a surprise." Phil said. Matt gasped in delight.

"A surprise? Papa would like that." Matt said, nodding a lot. Phil laughed fondly.

"Yas, he would. Let's put the Caesar's Palace mug away, and close the cupboard door because Papa gets very irritated when I leave them open, and then we will move onto the next step." Phil said.

"What's next? What's next?" Matt said, tugging on Phil's sweater in anticipation.

"Be patient, Matt. Next we pour milk into the mug." Phil said, demonstrating for his son.

"Can I try?" Matt said, sparkles illuminating in his eyes. Phil looked at his small son and the large carton of milk nervously. He handed Matt the carton, knowing he was going to regret it.

"Be very careful." Phil warned, keeping a careful eye on the carton and his son. Matt poured surprisingly well, only getting a drop of milk on the counter which Phil quickly cleaned up with a paper towel.

"Ta daa!" Matt said proudly.

"Well done Matt," Phil said, his praise clearly making Matt very happy. "Now we need to pour Papa's."

Matt watched his father in awe as he poured the milk very carefully into the Universal Studios mug.

"You're so good at pouring milk." Matt said. Phil struggled to not burst out in laughter, knowing Matt only meant good things. However, it did not stop the graphic flashbacks of the Milk Fic to stop invading his mind. That sounds like something to tweet later tonight.

"Thank you, Matt. Now we get the cocoa powder and put it in the milk like so." Phil said, demonstrating again. "Wanna try?"

Matt nodded eagerly. He mimicked his father, putting just the right amount of cocoa powder and then handing it to Phil who put it Dan's mug.

"Now what?" Matt asked.

"We heat it up in the microwave." Phil said.

"Mi-cro-wave." Matt repeated, imitating Dan's voice from 2010. Phil snorted.

"Did Papa teach you that?" Phil asked.

"Yeah. He told me it was onamatia or something."

"Onomatopoeia. And don't listen to your father, that is not onomatopoeia." Phil said.

"Why not?" Matt asked. Phil ruffled his hair.

"You'll learn it when you're older." Phil said. Matt groaned.

"Why do I only learn everything when I'm older?" Matt said.

"Don't worry, the time will come. You just have to wait." Phil said.

Matt sighed. "But I don't want to wait. Everyone in my class says my creative writings are strange. Even the good ones with the dragons.". He rubbed his eyes and sniffed, trying not to cry.

And with that, something inside Phil broke a little bit inside. It hurt to see Matt's sadness like this. It reminded him of when he first talked to Dan about his own sexuality and how he felt vulnerable and ashamed of something to be proud of. He knew that Matt's writing was well beyond his years and that one day he would be appreciated for it like it should be but right now the other kids didn't seem to understand or recognise his writing.

Phil smiled sadly and smoothed Matt's hair in comfort, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"I told you sweetie, strangeness is a good thing." Phil said knowingly. Matt looked up, meeting Phil's eyes.

"Really?" Matt whispered. Phil smiled and nodded.

"One day you will be appreciated for your writing and your strangeness will be loved. But sometimes, you need to wait for the world to catch up with you." Phil said, grabbing the mugs to put in the microwave. Matt hopped down from the chair and followed his father.

"Is that what you and Papa had to do?" Matt asked, trailing after him. Phil paused and smiled.

"Yas." Phil said simply in response, hiding his wide smile from his son. He put the mugs in the microwave and made room for his son to do the same.

"Rebecca said that my writing was weird and I had to stop doing it if I wanted to be her friend." Matt said. Phil sighed and rolled his eyes. He had met Rebecca's parents at the cocktail night at the beginning of the year and he already knew that that family was bad news.

"Well, if Rebecca said that, maybe you shouldn't be her friend anyway. Embrace the strange, Matt. Would you want us all to be robots?" Phil asked.

"That'd be so cool! Beep boop beep boop." Matt said, pretending to be a robot. Phil laughed at his son's impression. The microwave beeped in response, demanding for attention until Phil finally took the mugs out and put them on the counter.

Matt gasped. "Dad, I have an idea!"

"What is it?" Phil said. Matt giggled.

"Let's put salt in Papa's hot chocolate." Matt said. Phil shook his head.

"Matt, we're almost out of milk and I don't want to waste any of it."

"But -"

"Think of the cow who spent all that effort squeezing that milk out! We don't want to ruin that, do we?" Phil asked. Matt pouted and shook his head. Phil laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Okay, you take your hot chocolate and I'll take my hot chocolate and Papa's hot chocolate. Be careful not to drop it, okay?" Phil said. Matt bounced happily and nodded, taking the hot chocolate. Phil walked over to Dan, being careful not to drop it himself, and kept an eye on his very clumsy son.

"Papa's going to love this." Matt stage whispered.

"He sure will," Phil said quietly with a smile, then looking up to raise his voice. "Dan!"

"Yo sex -" Dan began, then realised that Matt was right beside his husband. Phil stifled a laugh.

"Papa!" Matt exclaimed, a huge grin on his face. Dan looked up at Phil only to meet his stern expression.

Matt hugged Dan happily while Phil looked at his husband expectantly. Dan met eyes with his son and ruffled his hair.

"Hey there Captain Lestowell. Sorry for snapping at you earlier, I'm just very busy. I promise I'm not mad at you." Dan said. Matt smiled.

"It's fine Papa, we all make mistakes. Look, Dad told me how to make hot chocolate and we made one for you!" Matt exclaimed. Phil handed Dan the mug, making eye contact.

Well done, Phil's eyes said. Dan smirked.

"Rate it out of ten?" Phil asked. Dan cocked his eyebrow up and took a sip, not breaking eye contact with Phil. He shrugged.

"A seven. Could be better." Dan said.

"Are you kidding? This is the best hot chocolate ever!" Matt exclaimed. Dan smiled at his son's enthusiasm for the hot drink.

"Let me try a bit of yours." Dan said. Matt watched eagerly as his father took a sip.

"Wow, your hot chocolate is really good! Looks like your father needs to brush up on his drink making skills." Dan said. Matt giggled at Phil's offended face.

"Hey! At least I didn't put salt in it like Matt suggested." Phil said. Dan gasped loudly

"You wanted to put salt in mine? I thought you were better than this, Matthew Lester-Howell." Dan said dramatically. Matt giggled as Dan booped his nose.

"I'm sorry Papa." Matt said in between laughter.

"I'm almost done editing. Wanna watch a movie?" Dan suggested. Matt clapped and cheered.

"Yeah!" Matt whooped. Phil was not as excited about the thought.

"I don't know. It's pretty late already." Phil said. Matt pouted and turned on his puppy eyes.

"Please?" Matt begged. Phil looked at Dan who was looking back just as eagerly as his son. Phil sighed.

"Fine. But don't blame me if you can't wake up tomorrow, okay?" Phil said. Matt cheered again as Dan stood up from his chair.

"Yay! You two are the best dads ever!" Matt said, hugging both of them by the legs. Dan and Phil hugged their son fondly.

"Yeah, I am pretty good at making hot chocolate." Phil admitted.

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shookethbrooketh · 5 years

Text

seven days

day two: part one

summary: dan is stuck in the wrong timeline. one day, he kisses phil goodnight. the next morning, he’s completely alone. he doesn’t even recognize where he wakes up, and little details in the world around him have changed. he has no clue what’s happening or where to go next in an effort to fix it; all he knows is that he has to find phil.

genre: sci-fi, a lil bit of angst, happy ending

warnings: none (for now)

fic word count: 4.3k chapter word count: 2.3k

written for the @phandomreversebang ! inspired by the awesome moodboard/edits by @maybeformepersonally ! beta’d (beginning to end) by @i-might-just-leave-soon !

read it on ao3

Sadly, however, there were a few things Dan didn’t know as he dozed off that evening. He didn’t know about the reminder on the phone he’d neglected all day making sure he, or the him that used to live in this timeline, didn’t forget about his first day on the production of Queer Eye. And he surely didn’t know that while he slept, as the clock struck midnight, the world began to change around him. It was like he slept in a protective bubble, holding him in place as the timeline disassembled and reassembled around his body. At 12:01, his entire universe had changed once again. Dan slept through that night in bliss ignorance until he was woken up and his world turned upside down once again.

“Daniel!”

“Hmm?” Dan blinked his eyes open, and before he had time to rub the sleep out of them, he spasmed into an upright position, hitting his head on the back of the bed frame.

He found himself in a hotel room with a man in overly done makeup standing over him. Everything from the day before rushed back to him, and it took all he had not to shout out, “Who the hell are you?”

“You need to start getting ready for VidCon! Your meetup is today!” the man shouted at him. His voice was loud and shrill, and Dan would have given money to not have to hear it.

“Okay, okay, give me some space!” he moaned, pushing the man back a little bit.

“Alright, just be ready in an hour,” the man said, leaving through a door into a conjoined room.

“An hour? Who needs an hour to get ready?” he asked himself, wandering into the bathroom. “Oh, FUCK!” Dan shouted, taking one good look at his face in the mirror. It was caked in makeup, but it had clearly been a bit smudged by sleep. “Oh, no,” he breathed, fear entering his confused mind. He rushed to find a phone back by the bed and ended up seeing an iPhone XR. “Shit, that’s gotta be expensive,” he said, opening it immediately with facial recognition. Immediately he found and opened YouTube and went to his own channel, something he was more than used to doing in his normal life. What he found was exactly what he feared: he was this timeline’s James Charles.

Dan groaned, rearing his head back to the ceiling. “I don’t know how to do makeup!” he muttered, dragging himself back into the bathroom. On the sink was a collection of at least 15 different types of makeup. “That explains the one-hour wakeup call.”

His eyes darted back and forth from blush to mascara to eyeliner to foundation as if looking at them each enough would show him what to do with them. Finally, an idea struck him. Unless YouTube was a completely different beast in this timeline, “Daniel Howell makeup tutorial” would be a fruitful search. It only took him a few seconds to find someone to teach him how to do his own makeup routine, and he was on his way.

It took Dan about half an hour to do the makeup, and he was quite thankful that the Dan whose body he’d woken up in was wearing makeup already because if he hadn’t it would have taken him twice as long or more. He threw on some actually mildly tasteful clothes and grabbed his VidCon badge; at least he knew how to live this person’s life.

Ready to go with twenty minutes left, Dan sank back into “his” bed and put his head in his hands. “Why the hell am I in another timeline?” he said, stressing a word every now and then just to exasperate his anger. “I’m never gonna find Phil at this rate.”

He closed his eyes, attempting to hold back tears. He was sure a rich makeup YouTuber would have waterproof makeup, but he wasn’t willing to take that risk. Thousands of separate thoughts were running through his head, each of them desperate, but one stood out over them all: Dan did not want to go to VidCon.

VidCon was one of his favorite places; it legitimized all his life choices and made him feel as if he was truly valued by the world. However, he’d never been to a VidCon without Phil in his life, and he didn’t particularly want to. He had fantasies about this VidCon--doing a meetup with Phil with both of them out and proud, hugging their fans tight and supporting them the way they supported the two of them--but now that was all gone, and he was left with a pound of makeup on his face and a bunch of people who didn’t even know him for who he truly was.

His “friend” and apparently manager, whose name he eventually learned was, ironically, James, retrieved him and led him to the venue. He was lucky for that; he obviously hadn’t been told ahead of time where the meet and greet was, and between his height, his makeup, and his assumed fame, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be wise to mingle with the fans to find directions.

“Aight, you’ve got a few minutes until the meetup; you can hang out here,” said James, leaving him in a sort of a green room. There was a wall in between them, and he could still hear the screaming fans. He’d never met fans alone before, and he was honestly a bit scared, especially without knowing what sort of fanbase the him of this timeline appealed to. He spent an immeasurable amount of time in his own head, searching aimlessly for something to calm his nerves. If only Phil were there with him…

Suddenly, a thought hit Dan. Maybe Phil was there with him. He’d yet to research the Phil of this timeline, so there was nothing telling him that he wasn’t still a YouTuber or that he wasn’t just halfway across the convention center. Dan whipped out the phone in his pocket and searched “Phil Lester” on Twitter for a second tie, and deja vu struck as he once again came up empty handed.

“Damnit!” he cried out, but he had no time to mourn, for James had just thrown open the door and informed him that it was time for the meetup. Dan, taken by surprise, threw his phone down and jumped up. “Cool, let’s go!” he responded awkwardly. James furrowed his brow for a moment before eventually deciding to ignore Dan’s odd behavior and simply turning on his heel and leaving. Dan took a deep breath and followed, leaving in the opposite direction in which he came in, and he found himself behind a classic meetup photo background. This, at least, was something he was comfortable with. He put on his performer’s smile and stepped out from behind the curtain.

Dan had certainly endured screaming teenage girls before; after all, he’d done two tours full of them. But this was a completely different animal entirely. It took all of his strength to smile and wave rather than double over with his hands over his ears. At this point, Dan was losing hope that his otherworldly counterpart wasn’t involved in some ridiculous controversy.

At that moment, it dawned on the theatre kid still dwelling inside him that he probably should have researched his role before stepping out onstage. He was meant to put on a face and pretend to be someone else, and he hadn’t even a clue who he was to be.

Before he even had enough time to think, the first fans were stepping up to meet him. Now, Dan had done over a hundred meetups, and even on his worst days, he’d always been attentive to each fan and been careful to make each one’s time the best thirty seconds to a minute they’d ever had. This time, however, was a bit different.

Sure, he tried his best to act normal, but he quite simply wasn’t. He felt as if he was a fraud, given that technically he sort of was. No matter how much effort he put forth, these people were getting cheated out of meeting their idol. Well, hopefully they’d never know the difference.

As a general rule of thumb, Dan had decided to go through the meetup emotionless. This was a bit difficult, as he and Phil had planned to, in their VidCon meetup, connect more emotionally to their fans, especially their LGBT+ fans, than ever before. But these people weren’t really his fans, and it was difficult for him to emotionally invest himself in speaking to people who didn’t really love HIS videos. Besides, he needed to keep his eyes on the prize: get through this meetup, then go back to looking for Phil.

As the queue moved closer, he noticed one black-haired head sticking out above the others. His eyes widened, and his eyes focused on the back of a head facing someone else in the line. “Hi!” someone shouted, and his attention was forced back to the fans meeting him at that particular moment. Suddenly it became even more difficult for him to focus on the fans; he had to see the tall, Phil-like man’s face, but every time he looked up the man was facing the other direction. He felt as if the world refused to let them near each other, even though the chances that it was actually Phil were little to none.

Finally, he reached the front of the line, and the girl he’d been engrossed with conversation in poked him. “It’s your turn!” she whisper-screamed, and he jumped.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, absentmindedly turning forward, and Dan’s heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, the face looking back at him was the face he’d fallen asleep beside every night for nearly nine years. The only difference: the man on the other side was none the wiser.

“Oh my goodness, hi!” he squealed through a broad smile. Dan was almost taken aback by it; the Phil he knew wasn’t exactly a squealer, and he definitely didn’t have an American accent. He was quite the different Phil, but he certainly was Phil; there was no doubting it. Phil started speaking again, his words slurring together with nerves. “Iknow it’s sorta odd for youta meet afan who’sactually older thanyou but I hope you don’t find me tooweird…” he trailed off, clearly absolutely terrified to be speaking to Dan.

At this point, time seemed to completely stop. Dan had seen Phil like this, sure, but never for something as simple as a meetup. It completely blew his mind to watch Phil absolutely lose it over the chance to meet him. Phil, the man who he’d known for ten years. Phil, the man who he’d kissed countless times. Phil, who was supposed to be standing beside him on the other side of the meetup, was instead sweating through his clothes because he loved Dan so much. Inside his head, Dan chuckled. He had no idea.

And Dan had no idea how to respond. There was no response to the person you love more than anyone or anything else in the world completely forgetting you. He wasn’t really sure what to do except for what he always did.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I promise,” he said, wrapping his arms around Phil. This wasn’t abnormal, as he’d done it for every fan thus far, but this time, it lingered a little longer, and it started much sooner than it should have. Still, he kept Phil close for more reasons than he could even begin to identify. Just having Phil there comforted his woes from the last day and a half, filled him with the love he’d always felt from Phil, and encited pure fear in him that he’d never see Phil again, all at one time. Finally, after what felt like only a millisecond but was clearly too long to be appropriate for a creator meeting a fan, Dan released Phil, and he was relieved to find that he was smiling.

“Thanks,” Phil said, taking a deep breath. “I’m Phil, by the way.” It wasn’t until then that Dan really took Phil in; he was wearing his glasses, which brought a grin to Dan’s face; every universe’s Phil should wear his glasses constantly. It’s what everyone who encounters him deserves. He wore an outfit that reminded Dan of something he’d wear to their own meetup. It was interesting, Dan thought, how some fundamental things about Phil refused to change, even in an alternate universe.

“Do you have something you’d like me to sign?” he asked. Phil nodded and handed over a pride flag. A burst of relief shot through Dan; Phil was still the same Phil. “I-I’d like to give you this, too,” he said, shakily handing over what appeared to be a drawing. As soon as Dan finished signing the flag, he snatched the drawing as if it were the Holy Grail and examined it; it was a picture of Dan, with every intricate detail drawn out. His dimples were deep, and every curl on his head was intentionally placed. He wore science-themed makeup, and Dan wasn’t even exaggerating when he said it was the best fanart he’d ever seen. “I’m a scientist, so…”

It was like he was falling in love all over again. “Wow, Phil...This is amazing. Absolutely amazing. I had no idea you could draw like this!”

“Well…” he stammered, “I don’t think you really know me at all.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Dan let out, disappointment evident in his voice. At this point, even Phil’s radiating awkwardness had dissipated into pure confusion. Dan had to think fast, and, through some miracle, he did. “Did you post this online? I’d love to show it some love.”

“Oh, yeah!” Phil said, confusion immediately being replaced by excitement. He was clearly still a bit nervous, but he seemed much more comfortable around Dan. That was a start. “I’m on Twitter @AmazingPhil.” Dan almost winced. How dumb could he be? He made a mental note: next time, search the name AND the handle.

“I’ll definitely check that out,” Dan said, beaming. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil said, and the VidCon employees were ushering him on. Dan wanted to yell at them, to keep him there forever, but there was only so much he could do.

“Have a great day!” Dan shouted as he watched the love of his life walk out of it clueless. He sighed, and muttered under his breath, “I love you.”

#phanfic #phanfiction #dong and ping #phic stuff #seven days

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succubusphan · 3 years

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Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining - CHAPTER 9

Summary: Dan meets Phil at the lowest moment in his life and is immediately enchanted by him, but nobody is perfect - not even those with good intentions and a kind heart.

This is the story of two imperfect people trying to do their best, to find love and strive in life. They gravitate towards each other at every turn, sometimes dancing in harmony, other times colliding. Rating: E Tags: strangers to friends, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Break Up, they were roommates, Cheating, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, non youtuber au, Angst with a Happy Ending, there was only one bed, ok there was more than one bed but one was very very bad, cuddling for warmth, Stranded, coworkers, Jealousy, toxic relationship (not dan and Phil), everybody makes mistakes, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, alpha phil, omega dan, lots of character development for everyone, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Oral Sex, deep throating, Shower Sex, very slight D/s dynamics, power struggle, you'll want to kill them both at some point and me too, but the end is very very worth it, Happy ending. Word Count: 71k total, 3.1k for this chapter.

A/n: This story was written for the @oldschoolpbb and it's my 100th fic (#spon). Thank you to my team! @schnaf for making the art and being my knight in shining armour as a beta, and going over the fic a million times, always encouraging me and being overall hilarious. Thank you to Mai for being a last-minute beta and providing an external analysis of the story that was incredibly helpful. And thank you @thottydan for reading and for your input. Please, read, enjoy, kudo, comment, like, and above all share, share, share. I am but a small writer and this is my biggest project by far. UPDATES EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S FINISHED (THE LAST CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED ON MAY 2ND). This story is influenced by music at every turn so make sure you check out the Spotify Playlist. Read on ao3 | ART LINK | Start from the beginning

December 22nd

Dan woke up with a smile on his face, his body deliciously sore; he was warm and content, engulfed in a pile of blankets and Phil’s tight embrace. A quick look out the window confirmed that not only the snow had not melted at all but it was actually snowing again. He huffed and decided he better got around making breakfast before he started overthinking what happened during the night.

Phil was awake, Dan knew that the moment the mattress shifted behind him, but he had no intention of having an awkward encounter; It would probably end up in a fight anyway so why even try? Instead, Dan reached for an abandoned hoodie, pulling it on before leaving without a backwards glance.

Looking around in the pantry, he found a few cans of tuna and soup, oil, salt and dried condiments, a value pack of ramen packets but not much else. There was still some bread on the counter and a few eggs but they needed to keep an eye on their supplies if they wanted to survive for the next few days. For the moment, Dan put on the kettle for coffee and sat down to drink some water, remembering that hydration was key; his chapped lips reminded him of that as well.

It was stupid to have to sit down and dutifully drink water but he had forgotten to drink as much as he should, especially since they got here and after three days. The impending headache was enough of a reason to pay more attention to his body.

“Hey,” Phil said, leaning on the doorframe.

“Hey.” Dan didn’t turn around; not until he knew it was safe. Instead, he walked to the counter and started to make the coffees; he still remembered how Phil took his: with milk and two sugars. There was no milk, but there was coffee mate - it would have to do.

“What are you making?”

“Just coffee. I was considering making toast but I wanted to see how our supplies were doing.”

Phil hummed. “If we actually cook a bit, I think we can manage it without even being hungry. I brought quite a bit of food but I was missing some essentials, luckily there was some stuff here.”

Dan added the powders and the hot water to each mug. He let out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding and finally looked at Phil. “That’s great,” he smiled. “So, Toast?”

“We can actually have smores and save the bread.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. “We have chocolate?”

“Yes!”

“And you hid it from me?”

“Yes, Dan,” Phil smiled. “That’s the reason we have chocolate.”

Dan rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “Shut up.”

Phil finally entered the kitchen and slapped Dan’s ass gently. “Go sit by the fire, I’ll bring these and the rest of the stuff. Did you drink water yet?”

“Yeah, two glasses.” It was a bit weird that Phil was taking such an interest in his health now, but Dan decided not to linger on that or he would start to read too much into it.

“Good. Go and check in my backpack; there’s a very nice lip balm in the small pocket on the outside.”

“I don’t think that will do much in the state my lips are.”

“There’s a lip scrub in there too.”

“Since when do you use lip scrubs?” Dan frowned.

“Since two years ago. I just used what was at home.”

“Oh,” Dan said and decided to just go for the damn lip scrub and balm, probably courtesy of Tom. He sat by the fire and found the items easily enough, absentmindedly applying them with his ring finger. His mind tried to wander into the muddy territory of what he and Phil were doing while Tom was at home, waiting for his boyfriend... Was this Dan playing a Uno reverse card on Tom and stealing his boyfriend? Was he being complicit in Phil’s cheating? Did they have an open relationship?

With four days still ahead of them, this was still a bit much to ponder on, for all Dan knew they could freeze to death before they were found, so he decided to live in the moment for the time being and regret things later - as he probably would.

Phil walked in with the two mugs and sat across him, handing him one. “Here.”

“Thanks - the other stuff?”

“Oh, forgot the bag on the table,” Phil pouted. “Would you bring it for me?”

“Uh, yeah.” It was strangely nice and also weird how easily they fell back into their old behaviour as if nothing bad had ever happened. As if they were still friends. It was comforting, but also heart-wrenching.

As soon as Dan brought the marshmallows and the chocolate, Phil fished a bag of crackers from his backpack and set everything.

“I’m going to open the furnace so stand back a bit, please.”

Dan did as he was told but still watched Phil roasting the marshmallows, shutting the small door as soon as he was done. “When did you learn to make wood fires and handle furnaces?” he asked curiously.

“As a child. We used to come here with my grandparents during the winter breaks.”

“To Oberstdorf?” Dan blinked.

“Yeah. Pass me my phone, it’s under the pillow.”

Dan walked to the bed and found it easily enough. “Here.”

“Thank you!” Phil unlocked the phone and scrolled until he found what he was looking for. He tapped on the conversation with his mum and opened the first picture. “My mum sent me these when I told her I had rented one of the cabins.” He passed the phone to Dan.

“Aw, this is cute.” Dan zoomed in on the small blonde child in the picture. “I didn’t know you were blonde!”

“Yeah, I was blonde and very weird.”

“Well, one of those is still true.”

Phil laughed and let his tongue slip out. “Your mom is true.”

“Zing!” Dan laughed, not wanting to think about his mum. “Did you have a good time here?”

Phil nodded. “I really loved it even though the drive would always make me sick.” He took a sip of his forgotten coffee. “My first word was ‘light’, and my second word was ‘Berg’.”

“What does ‘Berg’ mean?”

“It’s ‘mountain’ in German; my grandpa taught me that. He also taught me how to play scrabble.” His eyes travelled to the fire but they remained unfocused, as if he could look into the past. “I miss him a lot.”

Dan looked into the man’s eyes in the picture, he looked like a nice man. “You must have really loved them.”

“Yeah. Grandpa Eric died when I was five but my grandma died last year, in the same month as my aunt.”

Dan’s heart dropped. He remembered Phil taking time off last year and he also remembered making snide remarks about Phil looking sad and asking if his boyfriend didn’t keep him happy. He felt sick. “Phil, I - I’m so sorry.”

Phil looked at him and shrugged with a sad smile and shiny eyes. “It’s ok.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad that I got to see this place again with you.”

Dan smiled in spite of himself. Even when he felt like a piece of shit and he’d treated Phil so badly, he was still taking care of Dan, keeping him warm, making sure he was healthy and handling the food. It reminded Dan why he had fallen in love with Phil in the first place; how he had swept him off his feet and made him so happy for a while until -

Dan sighed and shook his head. He needed to get out of here, and there was nowhere else to go but the bathroom. He quickly excused himself and got a set of fresh clothes before hopping in the shower.

The water was hot but his eyes felt hotter with tears. This trip was making Dan question everything he had assumed about Phil after what happened and it was making him doubt himself too. People had told him time and time again that he was the problem but he had refused to believe them. Had he been too harsh with Phil? No, Phil had cheated, he had done everything just right to make Dan fall in love and then he threw it all away.

And now - Dan had tried to resist Phil, he really had, but it was so hard. Phil knew exactly how to play him, how to seduce him without even trying. Dan’s soapy hands wandered on his chest, pinching his nipples on the way down as he clenched his hole, trying to remember how it felt to have Phil inside him again.

Even after three years, nobody could compare to Phil and the way he made Dan feel - and Dan hated that. He wrapped his hand around his rapidly hardening cock and sighed, slowly pumping as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool tiles.

The bathroom door opened and closed but Dan didn’t even flinch. He could kick Phil out and pretend last night had never happened, or he could see where this was going.

The sound of Phil walking into the shower made him tense slightly until the alpha pressed his chest against Dan’s back and kissed the nape of his neck softly. “Is this ok?” he asked, his voice so low it made Dan moan and his cock twitch.

“Yeah,” Dan sighed and spread his legs as far as the shower would allow him. He was ready to feel the tip of Phil’s cock on his ass but what he felt was Phil kneeling behind him. “Fuck!” Dan moaned when two hands guided his hips back and spread his cheeks wide open, leaving him exposed. The hand on his cock froze.

“Yeah?” Phil teased, his tongue dragging purposefully from Dan’s taint to his already leaking hole. “Hmm, you taste just as sweet as I remembered.”

Dan moaned, leaving any shadow of a doubt or self-restraint behind and pushed back against Phil’s face. “More!” he groaned.

“Bossy,” Phil said, licking around the rim with the tip of his tongue before spreading his ass even wider and pushing in. He pressed his lips to the hole and sucked, making Dan moan louder and press harder against his mouth.

Dan’s hand finally started moving again, pulling the foreskin on his cock over the tip and back excruciatingly slow, not wanting this to be over too soon. He hissed, the pleasure of Phil’s tongue fucking him was almost getting too much to handle.

Phil pulled back for a moment, replacing his tongue with two fingers. “Do you want me to eat you out until you come or should I just fuck you?”

Dan considered it for a moment. Phil’s careful touch kept his mind mixing pleasure with memories of their past and that simply wouldn’t do, it needed to be hard and fast enough to keep his mind quiet. “Fuck me - hard!”

Phil chuckled but stood behind him, his fingers still pumping in and out of Dan’s ass, occasionally pressing against his prostate. It wasn’t until Dan threw him a murderous look over his shoulder that Phil really got on with it. He pushed Dan’s entire body against the wall and lined himself up, one hand pulling his asscheeks open, getting a clearer view of his objective. “Ready?”

Dan nodded and rested his forehead on his arm.

In one careful yet fluid motion, Phil pressed all the way in and set his chin on Dan’s shoulder, taking deep breaths.

“Fuck,” Dan mumbled as his rim fluttered around Phil.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just - I can feel you almost up to my stomach.” Dan looked down. “Also, I think I can see you.”

Phil’s head jerked up, moaning at the mental image. He put one hand against Dan’s stomach and pressed down, immediately feeling the pressure on his cock and letting out a moan alongside Dan’s. His other hand left Dan’s ass and nestled between his chest and the wall, pressing the omega closer to his chest as they both leaned back a bit to get a clearer view.

Phil pulled out until only the tip remained inside Dan and thrust in deeply causing his stomach to bulge. “Fuck, that’s hot!”

“Yeah,” Dan’s hand joined Phil on his stomach and pressed Down with every thrust, increasing the pleasure for both of them. Soon the movements became too erratic and uncoordinated to keep that exact position and they settled for finishing as hard and fast as possible. Dan’s face buried in his forearm once again as his left hand worked on his cock in a blur. Phil’s hands on Dan’s hips pulling him closer as he thrust as hard as he could manage, the sound of skin slapping against skin and their moans filling the air. Phil came first, buried deep inside Dan, both of his hands pressing on his stomach. Dan followed soon, painting the wall with thick white ropes that he rinsed as quickly as possible.

As he came down from his high, everything became too real for Dan, his eyes watering quickly. He could feel himself getting more and more anxious. He attempted a neutral tone but it came out way too cold. “Thank you. Please rinse and let me finish my shower alone.”

Phil’s breath caught, but he pulled out slowly and carefully. “I - I could wash your hair.”

Dan was about to freak out; he needed Phil out of the bathroom for that. “I needed to come and you already helped me with that, thank you. You can leave now.” It came out way too spiteful, but it was done.

Phil scrambled out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and slammed the door on his way out. Dan reached for the shampoo as the first sobs came. It was just too much. Too many feelings to handle, too many memories, too many mistakes he couldn’t forget. He tried his best to be quiet as he washed his hair and his body, hoping that Phil wouldn’t hear him crying, but when he came out, Phil had left for the other room.

Phil didn’t know what to make of what just happened - of any of this. Every time he thought they were getting somewhere, that they were getting closer to really overcoming their issues, Dan pushed him away. Today he had seen Dan’s old personality pop up; his teasing smiles, his gentle tone, his empathy - for fucks sake, Phil couldn’t remember the last time Dan had shown any kind of empathy towards him. He had fucked up by approaching Dan in the shower and now he didn’t know what he could do to fix the situation. Crying seemed like the best option, but it wouldn’t solve anything. Instead, he settled for a practical approach. He left a mug of hot instant ramen and a small chocolate bar where Dan usually sat as a small peace offering and carried all his stuff back to the other room.

He had renewed the oxygen in the room before going into the bathroom, so hopefully, that would help Dan sleep well and without complications. Before getting into the hell bed, Phil towelled his hair again and put on two hats, three hoodies, a pair of leggings and two joggers; hopefully that, paired with the two thick blankets would keep him warm enough to get some sleep.

He crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head, pulling out his phone and looking at his old family pictures before jumping to the ones he had taken with Dan years ago. They looked so happy in their little sleepovers, fooling around in his flat, at the sky bar the night they got together... Phil sniffled as a few tears rolled down his cheek. He really hoped to be that happy again someday. Then, he scrolled further down and saw all the bitter Instagram posts from Dan in the days following their break up. He knew that it was stupid of him to keep them, but he didn’t have that many pictures of Dan. He was so stupid, so stupid. He wished he could love someone else, someone who loved him back.

Once again, Dan sat by the fire feeling like utter shit. He couldn’t deal with his feelings. He was going mad and dragging Phil down with him in the process. From now on, he would try to stay away from the alpha as much as humanly possible for both of their sake.

Taking a sip of his ramen, Dan closed his eyes and shivered. He dragged his chair closer to the furnace to get warm. Despite how horrible Dan was to him, Phil kept taking care of him at every turn, that was honestly more upsetting than if Phil snapped at him or told him to fuck off. Instead, Phil just - took it. That was so unlike Phil.

Dan covered his hand in his mouth and took deep breaths trying to calm himself, he could feel another wave of anxiety about to hit him. Phil reminded him of his younger self, of when he broke up with Alex, when he had lost himself and his self-esteem. Had he broken Phil? Had he ruined Phil’s life? Or was Dan blaming himself for everything like he had before?

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He needed Bryony. He needed her opinion on this because he honestly didn’t trust his own judgement anymore, not since Alex.

Just in case, he would protect Phil from him. He didn’t want to be the kind of victim that victimizes everyone else to make themselves feel better. Ever since they got stranded at the refuge, he’d noticed Phil trying to get his attention at every turn, staring at him, trying to talk to him - pining. Dan took another sip from his mug and pressed his lips into a line. Phil was taking care of him, it was time that Dan took care of Phil; even if it wasn’t what Phil wanted.

After finishing his dinner, Dan crawled into bed, falling asleep within minutes. But the nightmares kept him trapped in a mental maze, the same scenarios repeating themselves in a maddening loop. He was chasing Phil with a knife, and he caught him every time, stabbing him over and over despite how much Phil begged him not to hurt him. Everything was black and white, everything but Phil’s crimson blood on his hands.

Next Chapter

#phanfic #succubusphan fics #yani's ospbb fic #ospbb #phanfiction

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maybeformepersonally · 5 years

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Fic: you are the choice i'll keep making

Title: you are the choice i'll keep making Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: NC-17 / Explicit Summary: In a universe where soulmates travel forward in time once in their lifetime to be with their bonded and solidify their relationship, 23-year-old Phil jumps forward to 2019. Word Count: 13,271 Author’s Note: I wrote this for the @phandomreversebang. I want to thank the admins on the PBR for organising this. And a special thanks to my team, @jorzuela and @agathelight, for their support and patience with me. Thank you to @agathelight for betaing this fic and putting up with my terrible time management skills, any mistakes that remain are solely my fault; and to @jorzuela for making the beautiful art to accompany my fic!

[art by @jorzuela]

Masterpost for the art

Read on AO3

Dan is pondering the merits of getting up for a snack. They’re having a pajama week to unwind and recharge before they emerge from their little holiday, so they’ve been mostly lazing around the house and catching up with some tv shows.

Now that Phil’s birthday week is over, they figured they’d take a few days for themselves, not their audience, not their friends and family, just the two of them in their shared home.

Phil had insisted he needed to top off the bird feeders before they settled down to watch something, even though they had filled it to the brim less than 12 hours ago, but he shouldn’t take longer than a couple minutes, so Dan had rolled his eyes at him and let him go enable the overweight pigeons living off Phil’s soft spot for any and all animals.

Dan decides not to get a snack, after all. He’s not that hungry and he doesn’t really feel like getting up. They can find something to eat later. Something to “put them on”, Dan thinks with a grin. Phil’s northern vernacular will never stop being charming, probably.

Speaking of, where is he? Topping off the feeder shouldn’t take him this long.

***

Soulmates are and have been a point of contention since the dawn of time. Religions the world over had tried to impose their own interpretation of what the jump meant, entire libraries could be filled with both fictional stories and philosophical speculation about the biological, social and cultural implications of the bonds. Academic circles are, to this day, firmly split into two camps: the metaphysical paradigm that asserts there’s such a thing as non-physical bonds that tie people who are destined to be together; and the agentic paradigm, which argues that what creates the bonds in the first place is our decisions to be with someone and the work we put into strengthening and maintaining such bonds. This interpretation would explain why there’s been reported cases of a single individual having more than one “soulmate” in the course of their life, whether consecutively or concurrently, as well as why the jumps normally happen after the pair have been together for a while. Anecdotal evidence and later systematic analysis of data both appear to confirm this thesis in that the jump never happens before the individual has “decided” to stay with the other person(s). However, despite the paradigm shift that has occurred in the modern age, many people still favour either the metaphysical interpretation or a fusion of both of them, and the idea that there is “someone out there made for every one of us” is still a ubiquitous trope in media.

***

Dan sees him first. Phil. Phil as Dan had first met him, emo hair and plaid shirt and bony angles, looking around cautiously, everything from his posture to the tight expression on his face telegraphing his fear. Dan can read Phil better than anyone, but he thinks even a complete stranger would probably be able to see it. He looks so young. He is so beautiful. It makes Dan breathless.

“Phil.” Dan tries to call his attention gently, but Phil still jumps and almost ends up on the floor. He puts his right hand to his chest and clings to the wall with the other one. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before Phil seems to deflate, worry seemingly evaporating and leaving him unsteady.

“I wanted it to be you.” Phil lets out a small, wet, shaky laugh, and wipes the stray tears from his cheeks as soon as they start to fall. “I wanted it to be you so bad.”

Before he realises he’s made the decision to move, Dan is in front of him, wrapping him in his arms and holding on tightly. Phil clings to him desperately and lets himself cry into Dan’s comforting shoulder. Dan’s broader shoulder. It’s a bit unsettling, but this is still Dan, and Phil is dizzy with relief at the concrete physical evidence that it was Dan, that he’d been right, that it had always been Dan.

“I’ve got you,” Dan whispers into his ear, “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay to let it out. I love you so much, Phil. I’m here.”

(Dan would say, “I knew it”, in an almost whisper, a shaky breath laced with a bone-deep certainty. The raw emotional delivery did nothing to conceal the conviction of the words. “I knew it was you.” Phil would ask him, later, much later, after the whole thing was over, how he’d been so sure. Dan couldn’t explain it to him, he just knew.

“Remind me again how I’m the one who believes in fate of the two of us?”

“It wasn’t fate that brought us together, Phil. It was luck, and effort on my part at first, and on both our parts later, to make it work. That’s what makes it so special. Not that it’d inevitably happen. But that it could have never happened, but it did. And we’re the ones who made it last.”

Phil wouldn’t answer with words. He’d shake his head in wonder and bury his face in Dan’s neck, breathe him in, wrap his arms around this man who still made him weak in the knees, still made him giddy with excitement, still made him nervous, the good kind of nervous, the kind that came from hopeless infatuation, from the exhilaration of having your affections returned, from seeing the future stretch out before you and being eager rather than scared because you knew you’ll have your person beside you every step of the way. And he’d let it be.)

***

Dan knew it'd be Phil for him because he never believed in fate. Dan knew it'd be Phil because Phil is the one Dan chose, and by the time the jump happened to him, he was comfortably three years into this relationship that was better than anything Dan could have dreamed of as a depressed, pessimistic teenager who didn’t even know what having a best friend was like. By the time it happened, he knew that he'd chosen well and that Phil wouldn't leave him, that Phil (impossibly) really did love him as fiercely as Dan loved him, that Phil was more than deserving of Dan's trust and devotion and love.

***

Phil's jump happens shortly before their first year anniversary. Phil has made his decision, but no matter how right it feels, no matter how much and how obviously Dan loves him, Phil is still afraid.

He's never felt this way before. This is what he’s been hoping for, what all the films and books and songs were about, he’s been craving this for years and finally it was here and there was a lot he hadn’t anticipated: the way Dan was on his mind all the time, all day, no matter what he was doing, like Dan had made his way under his skin and laid claim to his mind (Phil supposed that in a way he had); the painful clench in his chest when Dan had to say goodbye at the train platform and they’d have to be apart for days or weeks, sometimes without even knowing when they’d get to hold each other again; the knot in his throat as he made his way back home after watching Dan go into the train with heavy shoulders and sad eyes, and Phil knew that Dan would be miserable until they met again; the spike of excitement every time he got a message from Dan, or a tweet, or a call. But of all the things he hadn’t foreseen, the one that surprised him the most was the fear. The fear was always in the back of his mind, indistinct and amorphous. It changed shape and intensity, but it never quite left. When Phil was particularly happy, especially when Dan was within physical reach but sometimes when they were skyping too, the fear dissipated until Phil forgot about it, a nebulous mist that didn’t weigh on him at all. But then the call ended, or Dan had to go back home, and it resolidified into a more palpable form.

What if meeting was a bad idea? What if Dan was disappointed when they met IRL? What if Phil couldn’t meet Dan’s expectations? Surely they’d talked enough through comments and DMs and Skype that Dan had got to know him beyond the Amazingphil persona? Did Dan really mean it when he flirted with Phil online? (And he did, constantly.) What if Dan wasn’t attracted to him in person? Phil couldn’t control what he looked like IRL like he could on the screen, couldn’t select the perfect angle, pick and choose and edit and filter. (It didn’t occur to him that Dan couldn’t either. It was irrelevant because Phil already knew he fancied him, would fancy him with bad lighting and from terrible angles, with eyebags and spots and his dreaded naturally curly hair that Dan hated so much and Phil not-so-secretly thought was really cute.)

And then they’d met, finally, finally, and Dan was even more beautiful in the flesh, and more nervous too, but still just as interested in Phil, still just as keen on everything Phil had to say, and after the perfect first day together Dan had kissed him, and Phil felt his heart do something it had never done before in his chest. He’d been so happy at the time he didn’t notice the fear was still there until Dan was gone.

Ultimately, what the fear came down to was: was Dan as serious about this as Phil was?

Dan is younger than him; he's young and driven and talented and so lovely and sure, he wants Phil now, loves Phil now, but he's starting uni soon, and he's so young. Phil remembers being a teenager scared about the next step in his life (he’s still scared about that too, to be honest, but lately everything seems to be falling into place and Dan is a part of that,) it might only have been five years, but it feels like a lifetime. Phil feels like a different person, and it scares him to think that Dan might become a different person too, a person who doesn’t want him. Dan is still struggling to decide what he wants in life other than YouTube (and Phil) and who knows what he'll want a year from now, five, ten.

The crux of the matter is: Phil wants it to be Dan, but Dan just turned nineteen, and Phil knows a lifetime commitment is too much to ask of a nineteen year old who feels so adrift and so desperate for a genuine connection that he agreed to take a three-hour-train to spend a long weekend in the house of a man he met on the internet.

***

The jumps propell the bonded forward in time to a point in their future when they are with their soulmate, but there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. Some jumps cover decades, while others only go forward a few days. Some jumps last for a few minutes (the shortest on record spanned 13 minutes and 48 seconds), while some take days, with the longest known being over two weeks.

***

Phil encases his face between his hands and holds him there, held him close. “Let me look at you.”

Dan knows he’s flushed with emotion, knows his own eyes are taking in this younger Phil just as much as Phil’s are studying him.

“God, you still look at me like that?” Phil sounds wrecked, and like he might start crying again any moment now. Dan wants to hold him tight, wants to kiss him, wants to shield him from any bad thing in the world. Wants, most of all, to make him happy.

“Yeah,” Dan drawls, soft with overwhelming love for this young man. “I get teased about it all the time. Mostly by you.”

Phil keeps staring at him in silence, looking dazed. He brings his left hand to Dan’s curls, pats them lightly to watch them spring back into place. From there he goes to Dan’s hoop earring, running a finger down his ear and following the motion with an amazed expression, down to Dan’s exposed collarbones and latching on to the denim jacket covering the white t-shirt that his own Phil, 32-year-old Phil, loves so much. Dan likes to joke it’s because you can make out his nipples through the thin fabric. He knows he isn’t entirely wrong.

He spares a thought to be thankful that the cold prompted him to get dressed this morning. He likes that he’s looking good for this. For Phil.

“Oh my god.” Phil is covering his mouth with one hand like he used to do back in the beginning, back when they first met. Back before Dan sweet talked him out of covering up his gorgeous smile which Dan loved so much. Back when some stupid teenage boys’ cutting words still resonated somewhere inside Phil’s head, making him self conscious about some of his best features. Dan’s always been a pacifist, but there’s been times he’s really wanted to cut a bitch.

It’s still so cute. If Dan didn’t know why he used to do it, he would miss it more.

“You look like the really cool bad boy protagonist from a movie. The kind I’d fantasize about but could never hope to get in real life.”

The words hit Dan like a physical blow and wipe the smile he hadn’t even realised he’d settled on.. The sentiment is so backwards that it makes his chest tighten, makes his stomach swoop and a choked feeling to lodge in his throat. Dan knows Phil harbours some insecurities, that it’s only human to do so, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. Phil should know how wonderful he is.

“Phil…” his voice is soft and quiet. Somewhere between admonishing and pleading.

Phil gives a little breathless laugh, eyes never straying from Dan’s face. “It’s true,” he insists. His smile belies his self-effacing words, and Dan is weak for that smile.

“You got me.”

Dan frames Phil’s face in his big hands and slowly draws him closer, closer still, maintaining eye contact that feels too intense, too wrought with emotion, but Phil doesn’t look away, doesn’t close his eyes until after their lips have connected.

***

There is no definitive guide on the soulmate phenomenon, as no general consensus has been reached on the matter; but as expected from a topic that has fascinated and mystified humanity for as long as we can be considered such (i.e. for all of human history), there is a wealth of knowledge accrued on the subject.

The highlights are as follows. ‘Soulmates’ share a strong connection, though it might take a long time for that connection to form. The bond requires a certain level of commitment before the jump can take place, and there is overwhelming evidence confirming that the jump will not occur unless both individuals involved have consciously committed to one another. The bond is often romantic in nature, but it needs not be. It can be consummated sexually, but this is not a requirement, and there are countless known instances of both romantic and platonic bonds that were never physically consummated. While rare, the bond does not require a physical meeting at all, there have been cases of soulmates who established their connection through correspondence and met for the first time during their jump. This has become less rare with the developments of technology and the advent of the internet, but it still represents a small percentage overall. People can have one soulmate in their lifetime, or they can have multiple ones, or none at all. Children can’t be part of such a bond, even a platonic one; our current understanding is that children lack the psychological maturity to knowingly and conscientiously decide to commit to someone at the required level. Teenagers can form this bond, very, very rarely. Statistics calculate that the number of teenagers to form this bond (i.e. younger than 18-years-old) is slightly less than 0.0003% of all bonds. The youngest recorded cases were of 15-year-olds, all of them bonded to older individuals. But soulmate bonds normally happen in adulthood, becoming more statistically likely the older the person gets, the mode (highest concentration of bonded cases) is 45, with a sustained number of cases from ages 32 to 56, until the curve starts to descend again around 57 years old.

***

Phil keeps staring at him. It is actually worse than those first few months when they got together. Back then, he at least tried not to be too obvious, but now he doesn’t seem to care; perhaps due to the confirmation from the universe that Dan is here to stay, possibly because he can see this Dan isn’t shy about it at all, quite the contrary. Dan has always enjoyed Phil’s eyes on him, but a full decade of work on himself and his own insecurities, and the same amount of time of steadfast love and support to get used to the intensity of the emotions sparked by Phil’s stare on him… well, they’ve made a difference. He’s never quite shied away from Phil’s visibly appreciative eyes (well, not since they first met IRL, anyway), but he used to feel self-conscious. Like Phil’s focused attention might at any moment reveal Dan’s own shortcomings and Phil might change his mind. Of course, that never happened.

Now, Dan preens a little under Phil’s attention, and, as always, he stares back.

***

Dan was the one who brought it up first. It was on their postponed Portugal trip. They’d been markedly affectionate the whole trip, more so than usual even. Phil felt touch-starved, he couldn’t get enough of touching Dan. It had only been a week since he’d been with Dan before the trip, but Phil had been feeling the distance even more keenly than usual, and Dan had been just as affected if their skype calls were anything to go by.

Phil kept expecting the gaping need he felt in his chest whenever Dan wasn’t within touching distance to abate, for this yearning to be assuaged and the longing to settle into something more manageable. It’s what everyone said would happen after he’d been with someone for a while. Except it’s been seven months and it’s only got worse. At least Dan seemed to be just as bad. And he was always so happy when Phil indulged himself by sitting too close or touching his arm or pretending to bite him. In fact, Dan had caught on pretty fast and he’d started being physically affectionate right back. (Phil especially liked it when Dan put his arm around him. He’d been the first person to do it, somehow, and Phil hadn’t expected he’d like it so much, but he did.)

Phil had thought about it before that point, of course. Could not stop thinking about it, really, he loved Dan so much, was thinking about him all the time, of course he’d considered the possibility that Dan and he could be soulmates. But he didn’t know how to bring it up. They’d just celebrated their seven month anniversary, Dan had been with his ex-girlfriend for almost three years.

They were drinking and lazing around on the beach when it happened, watching the sunset and babbling about whatever came to mind. Phil had flopped down at some point when the scenery started spinning a little, so he had his head on Dan’s lap. He was looking up at him, feeling warm and happy and in love (he was always feeling in love these days), and Dan had buried his fingers in Phil’s hair at some point and was gently scratching his scalp in a way that had Phil’s insides squirming happily. If Phil was a cat, he’d be purring right then and there.

“Phil?”

“Mmh?” Okay, maybe he wasn’t so far from purring all things considered.

“If we’re soulmates, you’d be alright with me fucking the older version of you, right?”

Phil was too comfortable and relaxed to do much more than chuckle from his place on the sand (and Dan’s lap). Of course that’s how he brought it up. Phil was too happy about it to mind, honestly, and he did raise a good question, to be fair.

“Yeah,” Phil answered, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt a little. He’d been smiling so much lately, always did when he was with Dan. “That’s fine. I’d be worried if you didn’t want to, honestly.”

“Cool.” Dan was smiling back just as wide. He looked gorgeous, flushed from the wine, with his hair tousled and his pretty collarbones fully on display in his sleeveless Howl shirt. His skin looked soft and extremely touchable in the sunlight. Phil raised his hand and poked his dimple.

“I’m fucking older you too, by the way,” Phil told him.

“Yeah, okay.” Dan said, then promptly turned his head and bit at Phil’s finger, which had them both giggling and poking each other for the next few minutes, until Dan blatantly cheated by tickling Phil’s sides until he surrendered.

***

Dan had distractedly pushed Phil back while they kissed, until Phil bumped into the back of their sofa.

Phil pulls back from the kiss breathing heavily, and seems content to look intently at Dan some more, idly rubbing Dan’s shoulders seemingly without noticing. “You’re so pretty. It’s unreal.”

Dan huffs a fond laugh, pulls Phil a little closer by his grip on his waist. “Well, from my completely unbiased opinion as your soulmate, I can tell you, you are in fact the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“No, I’m not!” Phil protests, but he’s giggling and blushing brighter than before, and Dan can see the happiness practically radiating off him, so he just places a little kiss on Phil’s nose and smiles back really wide at Phil’s reaction.

***

In many cultures, sexual contact during the jump was discouraged if the bonded pair were not already married at the time the bonded jumped forward, for fear of it resulting in a pregnancy that could not be justified to the spouse or the spouse’s family. While not very common, a lot of suspicious pregnancies were explained this way, leading social mores to frown upon the practise and, in some cases, to forbid it. While this wouldn’t matter for same-sex couples, the norm was considered universal, and romantic love being what it is, this rule was universally broken whenever bonded pairs had motive and opportunity.

It is no longer viewed negatively, although some argue that couples should discuss the possibility ahead of time, as many people still feel uncomfortable with the thought of their partner being sexually involved with their future self.

***

Dan guides Phil up the stairs to their room, squeezing his hand all the way there and only getting distracted by the vision of this younger Phil twice or thrice on the way.

They kiss until Phil is breathless. Dan is keeping him flush against the wall and still Phil is grasping at Dan’s sweater and trying to pull him closer. Dan feels… firmer than he’s used to. His wandering hands have already confirmed that Dan must have taken up exercise at some point, if his arms and back are anything to go by. Phil is downright eager to do some further exploring.

Before he can so much as catch his breath, however, Dan is running his hands down from where he’d been holding him by the hips, and without breaking eye contact he bends down to slide them down and around Phil’s thighs and grabs them firmly in those big, soft hands that Phil loves so much. The sensation is unexpectedly carnal, the trail left by Dan’s touch tingles and Phil is so hard he instinctually tries to grind against Dan, but Dan’s hold is strong enough to keep him in place. The combination of that thought and the feeling of Dan’s hands on him is enough to wring a soft moan from Phil’s throat. Then, in a practised move that makes Phil actually, in real life, honest to God fucking swoon, Dan rights himself and lifts Phil up with him, immediately trapping him between his own firm, wide chest and the even firmer wall. Phil can’t help a little scream of surprise, but he instinctively wraps his legs around Dan’s lower back anyway.

Dan. Is holding him up against the wall. Dan is strong enough to pick him up and then continue to hold him up against the wall and that is so hot that Phil grabs his face in both hands and starts kissing him again, cock throbbing where it’s trapped against Dan’s chest.

***

After Dan’s carried him to the bed and let him fall back on it carefully, he quickly finishes taking off his own clothes while Phil watches him intently. But he isn’t given much time to appreciate the sight before Dan is on him again, kissing the breath out of him, biting his shoulder in that way that’s so familiar, sucking on his nipples and dragging his tongue down his stomach, making Phil squirm.

"What do you want?" Dan presses the words against the soft skin under his belly button. Phil opens his mouth but the words stick in his throat, the barrage of different scenarios crashing together and causing a jam effectively prevent any one them from making it past his lips. Dan looks up to him heatedly, his hands never stop their trek up and down the sensitive skin of his sides.

When Phil doesn't speak, he drags his nails teasingly down his flanks, firm enough to have Phil's abs contracting at the unexpected jolt of pleasure and his hips lifting of their own accord. His erection rubs deliciously against Dan's collarbones, with only the fabric of his thin boxer briefs standing in the way. "You can have everything you want, baby. There's nothing you could ask me that I wouldn't want to give you. You just need to decide what you want first." The words are low and soothing, punctuated by a firm kiss to the prominent freckle to the right of Phil's belly button. "Fuck me," Phil blurts out. It wasn't so much a conscious decision as it was a gut feeling given a voice. Dan's eyes don’t stray from him, the intensity of his gaze makes Phil shy, it makes him feel powerful, makes him want to preen and hide with equal intensity.

Dan doesn’t move from between Phil’s thighs, however. He only shimmies down a little on the bed until his arms and shoulders are under Phil’s hips and his face is directly above the stretched fabric of Phil’s boxers. The sight fuels the electricity building up under Phil skin into something heavier.

Dan holds himself up on his elbows and brings his hands up to grab handfuls of Phil’s outer thighs right where his boxer shorts end, while his thumbs rub the back of his thighs, dipping teasingly under the fabric. Before Phil can get the words together to ask, Dan dives his head down without an ounce of shame, rubs his nose and lips against Phil’s cock through the thin fabric, then turns to rub his cheek against it, eliciting a moan from Phil at the shockingly erotic image he makes. Phil is technically wearing pants, yeah, but he is hard enough that he’s started dripping precome and the thin stretchy fabric has molded around him in a way that only brings attention to his length, it looks almost more obscene than he would completely naked.

Dan places his lips against the root again, but this time he opens his mouth to suck lightly at him through the fabric, causing more quiet moans to fall unbidden from Phil’s lips, and he moves his hands up from where he’s gripping Phil’s thighs firmly, until he’s grabbing the place where Phil’s thighs meet the curve of his ass. His palms are warm and solid on him, his fingers sink purposely under the fabric and into the tender skin right behind his balls. The sensation is so good that Phil can’t help trying to buck into it, but Dan’s hands keep his hips in place.

“God, I love the sounds you make,” Dan pulls back just enough to be heard, and the sudden feeling of cold air where just a moment ago was Dan’s warmth mouth sucking at his cock through cloth has Phil whining and attempting another unsuccessful thrust. Dan sounds so wrecked already.

“Okay, hand me the lube. I’m going to finger you until you’re open enough to take me.”

“Fuck. Yeah, please,” Phil says breathlessly. “Where…?”

“On the bedside table. To your left.” He doesn’t take his hands off Phil, but he does hold himself up to give him enough room to move. Phil reaches with shaky hands and is momentarily worried he might drop it, but the next second he has his hand around it and hands it over to Dan, who loosens his grip on Phil’s groin to take it.

Dan places it to the side and moves to peel the snug fabric off of him, lifting his legs in the air and then back down with firm but gentle hands. Then, instead of resuming his previous position as Phil had expected, he sits up between Phil’s legs, with one knee bended and the other spread to the side, and he places a pillow under Phil’s hips for easier access. Phil feels wonderfully exposed laying down like this, cock hard and leaking on his stomach and legs spread and resting on Dan’s own, his whole body primed and begging for more, begging for Dan, for whatever Dan will give him. If he couldn’t see the desire so clearly evident on Dan’s face, the way his eyes go over every inch of Phil’s body greedily, possessively, he might have felt embarrassed. But he could see it, and so the flush of his cheeks and the swirling in his stomach took a different shape, felt thrilling rather than distressing.

Dan slicks two fingers carefully, rubbing the lube to warm it up before reaching between Phil’s legs to rub them against his hole. Phil opens his legs a little bit wider in invitation.

Dan teases him, of course, because he’s still the little shit Phil fell in love with, rubbing little circles on his perineum, dipping down to tease at the puckered flesh of his rim, then moving back up to squeeze his balls.

“Daaaan,” he whined softly.

It works, apparently. Next thing he knows, he can feel Dan’s middle finger slipping slowly inside, slicked up and finding no resistance.

“Mmh... yes,” the drag as the finger pulls out and then back in faster feels wonderful, but not nearly enough. “Give me ‘nother,” he demands quietly.

“Mmm, like this?” Dan says lowly.

Phil moans and tries to spread his legs even wider as Dan carefully pushes two fingers in next, then rotates them slowly once they’re all the way inside. Then he starts thrusting them in and out with purpose, and the movements send sharp spikes of pleasure up his back and down his legs. His eyes have closed without is permission, and soon enough he’s planted his feet firmly on the bed to push back on the fingers, lifting his hips and fucking himself on them, too turned on to hold himself back.

“Hngh, hnn, ah, aaahh, Dan. I’m ready, come on, give me another,” he moans out, northern accent coming out in full force as it often does during sex.

Dan huffs, and Phil forces his eyes open to look at him. He’s flushed and his eyes look a bit crazy, his jaw is slack and he’s breathing heavily and he looks like Phil’s wildest fantasies come to life.

“You want another already?” he asks hoarsely.

“Yesssss…”

Instead of complying, he moves back and drops to the bed, chest on the sheets between Phil’s legs again. Before Phil can complain, he’s reaching for the lube again and coats three fingers liberally, then settles back. The push inside is even slower this time, Dan being overly careful not to hurt him. It gives Phil the time to track every stab of pleasure radiating from his core as Dan skillfully fingers him open. The drag over his prostate is noticeably stronger with three fingers, Phil writhes on the sheets and lifts his hips to grind down on Dan’s gloriously big fingers, his hands clutch the sheets on each side.

“Fuck,” he feels more than hears Dan breathe into his skin, then he feels his sharp teeth biting down on the tender skin of his inner thighs, just hard enough that Phil knows he’ll leave teethmarks. Fuck, Phil loves it when Dan leaves marks on him. Dan releases the skin and places a long lick over it, tongue flat and smooth and warm. Then he pulls his fingers out completely and thrusts them back in abruptly, at the same time that he puts his mouth on Phil’s unmarked thigh and starts sucking.

Phil’s body riots.

“Dan. Dan. Fuuuck… Mmhhhh...” Phil voice is so whiny and breathless that Dan knows he must be close. The knowledge eggs him on, and he twists his fingers in roughly, taking in how easily Phil’s body opens for him, how wet and tight and warm he is inside, how prettily he moans for him.

“Dan, wait, I’m-hnnm. Fuck, I’m too close.” Phil whines.

“Don’t hold yourself back,” Dan says against the hickies he’s worked into the pale skin of Phil’s thighs. Phil makes a little noise of protest that only serves to fuel Dan’s desire to make him come undone under his fingers. Decision made, Dan pulls back to watch it happen.

“But...”

“Phil, I know I can make you come three times in one night in your thirties, I doubt you’ll have a problem to get it up again at 23.”

Phil raises his head to stare at him at that, seemingly shocked for a second, mouth hanging open a bit. It only takes two seconds for the surprise to turn into heat, and he nods, clearly relishing that tidbit of knowledge.

“You want my mouth?”

Phil doesn’t answer. He just keeps grinding down on Dan’s fingers and looking up at him, and he thinks Dan must realise it too. He won’t need it.

Phil comes with three of Dan’s fingers inside him, Dan’s thumb pressed firmly on his perineum and Dan’s eyes on him feeling almost like a physical presence all on their own.

Dan keeps thrusting his fingers into him until Phil relaxes into the bed, then pulls them out gently. He cursorily wipes his fingers and lays down next to Phil to be close to him as he comes down. Phil likes feeling Dan’s warmth next to him, likes their arms and legs brushing as he comes down. He’s told Dan that it anchors him.

Dan wraps one arm loosely around him and uses the time to cool himself down.

When Phil can mostly breathe normally again, he reaches for Dan’s hand and weakly turns on his side, silently demanding that Dan spoon him. Dan readily complies, scooting Phil even closer and holding him tight against his chest.

Dan’s arm across his chest feels wider than he’s used to, and surprisingly strong, a stark contrast to Phil’s boneless state.

Phil lies there and basks in the afterglow, revels in the feeling of being surrounded by Dan. He feels small, but in a good way. Warm and safe and surrounded by this man he loves. Shielded from the world. Dan slides a leg between his and holds him a little tighter, places a little kiss on the back of his neck that makes his skin tingle a little.

Phil’s mind is all over the place, the phantom sensation of Dan stretching him open coupled with the solid weight of Dan’s erection resting on his lower back mean that the heat is already faintly swirling in his lower stomach, but he’s too worn out for it take the shape of arousal yet. The precious certainty that Dan is his soulmate, that he really does feel this thing between them as strongly as he says he does, as sharply as Phil does, is still making his head spin a little. The sensory difference between being held by his Dan and being enveloped by the tangibly stronger arms of this older version of his boyfriend is resonating on some base part of his brain where all the embarrassing teenage fantasies of his youth are stored, the ones that came after the realisation that he liked men too; the ones he would sometimes get off to once he figured out how much the idea of being ravished by an older, bigger man turned him on; the ones that had him rutting into his sheets and moaning into his pillow in desperation as he learned how good it felt to have something inside him, anything, even his own fingers, but always made him feel weirdly ashamed and empty afterwards. He got over the misplaced shame with time, especially once he started dating boys in uni, but those fantasies of being held in place by strong hands, of being manhandled like he weighed nothing, of being taken and taken care of, still felt oddly taboo somehow, like something he shouldn’t talk about or ask for. Having it now, from Dan of all people, his soulmate, makes him feel a little overwhelmed.

But it’s good. It’s so good Phil is heady with it.

***

It takes a while for Phil to fully come down from it, time feel suspended in place for him, but eventually he emerges from the haze.

Dan is placing little kisses over his shoulders, an unexpected contrast to the unabashedly sexual slide of his hard cock where he’s idly rubbing against the soft skin of Phil’s asscheeks. Phil pushes back lazily, baring his long neck to entice Dan to move his mouth there next. Dan moves slowly, leaving butterfly kisses all the way there and seeming reluctant to leave his shoulders. Phil is reminded of the many times Dan’s told him he loves the little freckles there.

“Daaan,” Phil complains softly, trying to get him to move on to the more exciting part. How he has the wherewithal to move this slowly with as hard as he feels pressed against him and with everything they’ve done already, Phil has no idea.

Dan chuckles into his shoulder, but he finally moves his wonderful, tantalizing mouth to nip and suck on Phil’s neck, so Phil can’t bring himself to scold him. A measured bite makes him moan breathlessly and wow, Dan knew what he was talking about because Phil sure won’t be having any issues getting it up a second time with the way things are going.

“God, I love it when you’re like this,” Dan breathes directly into his ear. “All soft and pliant and desperate in my hands. I love you all sweet like this.”

It makes Phil flush darker with want, with pride that he can make Dan sound like that.

“You know how soft you sound when you’re like this? It drives me crazy,” he punctuates the words with a thrust that brings his cock between Phil’s cheeks and wrests a low moan from him as it slides smoothly between his legs. He’s still slick there from Dan’s fingers, still sensitive enough that when Dan’s cock rubs up past his hole and against his perineum he mewls a little.

Then Dan is pulling away, pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him, swallowing the sound they both make at the feeling of skin on skin when Dan pulls them flush against each other. Phil clings to his back and brings his legs around him to keep him in place. The position has their cocks lining up and rubbing together deliciously, and the idea of Dan manhandling him to wherever he wants him should probably not make Phil this hot, but it does, and he’s well beyond the point where he might feel embarrassed by it.

“Dan. Come on. Fuck me already.”

“Mm, you sure? I could come like this, just rubbing against you,” Dan pulls back to hover over him to say it, and another sharp spike of desire spears through him as he looks up at the gorgeous man above him, his biceps are bulging on each side of Phil’s head where he’s leaning on them to hold himself up, his lips look shiny and puffed up, the little rosy patch he loves so much is on full display and his hair is a mussed up mess; all in all he looks like a fucking wet dream come true. Fuck, Phil cannot get over the curls.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Daniel. I want you to fuck me into the mattress and I want it right the fuck now.” Phil surges up to catch his full lower lip between his teeth and pulls teasingly without breaking eye contact in a way he’s learnt makes Dan give in to him almost every time.

Dan shoves him back into the sheets with the force of a kiss, and Phil knows he’s won. He’s surprised when he feels Dan’s fingers teasing his rim again, then slowly dipping inside, and he lets out a sigh.

“Dan, I’m ready. I’m so ready,” his words slur as Dan thrusts another finger in, speeding up a bit, “Please, I’m so open for you, I want you,” he breaks off into a needy moan. When he opens his eyes, it’s to see Dan staring down at him hungrily, panting slightly with obvious desire.

Dan did always love it when he talks dirty.

“Come on. I’m spread open for you, you’ve stretched me so well, you can slide right in...”

“Fuck,” Dan exhales. He’s looking down at Phil like he can’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Okay. Okay.” He pulls his fingers out belatedly and slicks himself up with trembling fingers. Phil feels like he’ll crawl out of his skin any moment now.

“This position okay?” Dan asks, already positioning himself. He rubs the head of his cock deliciously around and over Phil’s stretched rim in a move that always makes Phil writhe a little in pleasure.

“Yeah, I want to see you.” Phil likes looking at Dan and he likes the weight of Dan’s body pressing him into the bed. This is the position he’d have chosen if Dan had asked. He suspects Dan knows this.

“Yeah,” Dan breathes out, then pushes in.

The stretch is wider than three of his fingers, but Phil is so relaxed and so open that it doesn’t hurt at all. Instead, there’s only pleasure and emotion and intimacy.

Dan stops once he bottoms out, by the way he’s breathing so heavily and biting his lip it looks like he’s trying to hold it together, and Phil suddenly feels so grateful that he’s come once already to take the edge off, because that means he gets to focus more on Dan now, he gets to watch him come apart without being distracted by his own pleasure. He runs his hands up Dan’s back soothingly and places a little kiss on his chin, rubbing one leg up and down Dan’s own in an intimate caress. The weight of Dan’s gaze on him feels disarming, it makes him feel known, and claimed. It makes him feel loved.

Dan finally breaks the eye contact to kiss him, slow and deep and filthy, and that’s when he chooses to move. First a slow grind, slow circles of his hips that cause sparks to shoot off under Phil’s skin and his spine to curve in pleasure; then Dan is bracing himself on his forearms and he starts thrusting in and out in earnest, The shift in rhythm has Phil moaning and unlocking his legs from around Dan to spread them wider. He plants his feet on the mattress to gain enough leverage to move into the thrusts, but Dan’s solid weight on his chest means he doesn’t have much wiggle room, which of course is only setting his blood on fire faster. There’s no question that Dan knows what he’s doing here.

Dan is letting out low, sustained moans with every thrust of his hips, and Phil can only clutch on to his shoulders and writhe with every slide of his cock, every sound from Dan’s lips. When Dan buries his face in his neck, his moans start reverberating on Phil’s jaw, adding to the mounting onslaught of near ecstasy. Dan’s shaking slightly, his moans start sounding more and more like the needy whines he makes when Phil gets him really worked up, it is the single hottest thing Phil’s ever heard bar none.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. “Are you close?” It’s not a real question, Phil knows he is.

Dan whimpers, fucking whimpers, and Phil can feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed between their stomachs, fuck. “You feel so good,” Dan whispers into his neck desperately, hips never breaking their maddening pace. “Phil…”

“Dan, come on, I want to feel you lose it. I want it. Please, come inside me.”

The sounds Dan makes when he comes, the way he shakes in Phil’s arms and the intimate knowledge of what he’s feeling right now are nearly enough to tip him over the edge a second time. Nearly, but not quite. And so Dan comes, cock buried snugly inside him and body going rigid with almost overwhelming pleasure, and Phil holds him through it and through the aftershocks, until he’s too sensitive to stay inside. He pulls out, but he doesn’t move from where he’s laying on top of Phil, and he sighs contentedly when Phil starts petting his hair with one hand, the other wandering idly through his back.

After a minute, Dan brings his head up to place a firm close-mouthed kiss straight on his lips, and he grins sleepily down at him, wide and dimpled and so beautiful Phil’s heart flips aggressively in his chest.

He flops a bit to one side and reaches down to hold Phil in a loose fist, squeezing lightly to watch Phil buck into his hand with a moan.

“Hmm, yeah,” Phil hums, turning to bury a hand in Dan’s hair and bring him closer for another kiss. “Just like this.”

The second time he comes, it’s with Dan’s hand pumping his cock, Dan’s body pressed against him and Dan’s tongue inside his mouth.

***

According to most religions, soulmates are divine will made manifest. In many cultures, reproduction is considered part of the natural cycle as well as the obligation of the proper citizen, and so individuals who discovered their soulmate to be of the same sex used to be encouraged to pursue a platonic relationship with their bonded and were historically often pressured either into heterosexual marriages or into monasteries and religious vows of celibacy.

The sexual revolution of the early 20th century put this harmful tradition to rest, and sex-same marriage has been legalised and is protected everywhere in the world by the turn of the millennia.

***

Once they’ve worn themselves down, they settle down for some quality cuddling in bed. In their bed, Phil thinks, deliriously happy. In their house where they live in together. All the time.

Phil wiggles a little, trying to snuggle even closer into Dan’s chest before subsiding. Without much thought, Dan drags his hand slowly up and down Phil’s naked back in a practised caress.

“Hmm… that’s nice.” Phil mumbles into his neck.

“Yeah, it is.” Dan answers softly. After a few comfy seconds of silence, he adds, “I like petting you”. He’s pushing it a little, but he thinks it’ll be fine. Good, even.

Phil giggles a bit nervously. “That’s weird,” he says, but he doesn’t sound bothered. Dan knew he wouldn’t be.

“You taught me to embrace weird, years ago.” He places a tiny kiss on Phil’s head. In gratitude.

Phil just holds on tighter. At the love apparent in Dan’s soft voice, the adoration he engraves on Phil’s skin with every touch. At the reference he’d made, no doubt knowing Phil couldn’t, wouldn’t miss it.

Phil is weird. He’d always been weird. He’d come to terms with it, had come to appreciate it, even. It is good for creative endeavours, and he’s aiming for a creative profession. On the really good days, with the really good people, he’s come to celebrate it.

Dan is one of the good people. The best people. Person. Dan is the best person in the world.

***

Phil inspects the toiletries, hair still damp from the shower. "Which one's mine?" He’s taken off his contacts to alleviate the strain on his eyes. It turns out keeping your contacts in through interdimensional time travel and then crying with them on several times in one afternoon tends to cause a slight irritation to the cornea. Who knew.

"The green one," Dan points it out in the line of products arranged neatly on the bathroom cabinet.

Phil sprays the cologne in front of his face so he can smell it. It smells fresh and summery, like freshly cut grass or the open air of the forest.

"And that blue one is yours?"

"Got it in one."

Phil smells that one as well. Still fresh but a tad heavier. Woodsy and with the hint of something fruity? It’s fresh but homier. It’s no contest, really. He likes the idea of smelling like Dan too much to resist picking his.

Dan watches him spray it with a little smile.

“You picked it for me.”

“Oh?”

Dan shakes his head amusedly. “You’re the one with the prodigious sense of smell. I can barely make out the scent, but you really liked it. Apparently, you think it suits me.”

Phil brings the little glass bottle back in front of his face to breathe it in again. He rather loves it. He wonders which came first: does he love it because he already recognises it as Dan’s scent, or did he pick it for Dan because he loved it?

As he applies some on himself, he decides it doesn’t really matter either way.

***

The jump remains partly locked in the jumper's subconscious once they return to their present day. Whatever they learn stays with them as vague certainties, but if they should try to trace back their certainty to its source they will often not be able to access the memories in question. The entire experience remains, but only the most general outline and a few details will be easily accessible by the conscious mind. Often, the clearest memories will be sensory: a pungent smell, a surprising sound, the feeling of one’s soulmate’s touch on one’s skin; other than that, the prevailing memories are vague impressions: the feeling of comfort and of being loved are the most common.

***

After basic hygiene is taken care of, Dan turns his attention to the next basic need on the list.

“Come on, I’ll feed you.”

He puts on an oversized sweater to brave the cold of the kitchen and gives Phil his Sexual Fantasies sweater, which has Phil raising an eyebrow at him, “What? You are a sexual fantasy,” Dan jokes.

Phil snorts but begins to put it on anyway. “Only for you.”

Dan shakes his head, amused. “For a lot of people, actually. I’m lucky I locked you in early on.”

Phil looks at him, but doesn’t say anything about that. He seems to be processing the idea. Dan can’t imagine why he’d have trouble believing it, he remembers how many people were after him around the time they got together, and the number only kept growing with time.

“This is yours, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dan confirms. “It’ll keep you warm. And I’ve always loved seeing you in my clothes.”

Phil grins at him, tongue poking out between his teeth in that way of his that still makes Dan’s heart flutter in his chest. God, how did he get this lucky?

“Still possessive, then?”

“Always.” Dan grins back. “I got better with the jealousy thing, though.” He turns to the closet to look for something for their feet. The floor of the kitchen is cold af in early February. “Uh, took a while.”

Phil is laughing at the confession. He’s never minded that. Thought it was cute so long as Dan didn’t become openly rude, which hardly ever happened, thankfully. Good manners and etiquette generally won out even in his worse jealous episodes. This meant that he seethed in silence, maybe glared a little, and later, when they were alone, Phil could indulge his possessive streak by acceding to having mindblowing sex and taking the initiative to remind Dan how much he loves him a bit more frequently than usual for the next few days. Win/win.

Dan finds what he’s looking for and turns around, handing Phil a pair of the Dil bunny slippers, and dropping another for himself.

“What are those?” Phil says when he sees them, and Dan trips on the completely unexpected meme and barely avoids falling flat on his face by holding on to Phil’s arm. He’s laughing so hard he can’t even catch his breath to explain why he’s laughing, and Phil’s adorably confused face only makes him laugh harder.

Once he can speak again, Dan explains they’re Sims merch (and purposefully doesn’t say they’re their merch), which makes Phil huff and ask what’s so funny about that.

“It’s not that, what you said - it’s a meme. An internet joke-”

“I know what a meme is, Dan, I’m an internet person.”

Dan laughs again at that. “Yeah, okay. It’s just, memes evolve a lot in ten years. I don’t know if I should show it to you, probably not.” There are rules in place, after all, and for good reason. “The phrase is from, like, a viral video. It was just really unexpected to hear that from you, since you don’t even know the original meme. It was funny.”

Phil is smiling at him, which still, after all these years, makes Dan smile back at him automatically, but he’s also rolling his eyes and that makes Dan want to wrap his arms around him and squeeze. So he does. Phil squeezes back, as he always has, from that first time they hugged in a Manchester train station, roughly a decade ago. Well, a decade ago for Dan anyway.

They eventually let go of each other, and Phil stares at him for a few seconds before breaking the silence.

“Okay, I was promised food.”

[art by @jorzuela]

***

Phil laughs himself silly the first time he sees the ‘What are those?’ vine. His first instinct is to send it to Dan (who is upstairs), but he can’t quite stop laughing long enough to forward it. Dan follows the wheezing sound to find Phil doubled over on the computer chair, grabbing his sides which ache from the unrelenting laughter as actual tears fall from his eyes. He makes Dan watch the vine and, when asked, he can’t explain why he finds it so funny, he just does.

Dan shakes his head at him, amused. He’s grinning wide enough that he’s got little crinkles around his eyes. The sight makes something in Phil’s chest clench. He loves that sight: Dan, unreservedly, unambiguously happy,

Phil appears to be having one of those really sappy days, for some reason. Thankfully, going by the fondness in Dan’s expression when faced with Phil’s inexplicable whims, he seems happy enough to indulge him.

Phil can’t believe he got so lucky sometimes.

***

To accommodate for the jump, it is illegal to compel jumpers to fill in for their future self at work or work-related events.

No one knows where people go for the duration of their younger self’s jump, but they disappear for that time and appear again when the jump is over with perfect memories of the event.

Jumpers don’t lose any time, they go forward into the future, then come back to the point in time they left.

***

Phil sits cross legged over the counter while Dan prepares a simple but filling meal for them both. “The better to watch you slave over for me,” he joked after hopping on. He’s wearing an old pair of his older counterpart’s glasses, since 2019 Phil’s prescription is too strong for him, and they keep slipping down his nose. Dan keeps getting distracted by him, this boy he fell in love with and built a life with; they keep staring at each other and smiling like idiots. It’s kind of ridiculous, but they’re alone in the safety of their home, so Dan doesn’t care if he’s a soft fool.

Dan can see the second Phil starts gearing up to ask something, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s so familiar with all of this man’s inner workings, all his ticks and habits and thoughts, that he is not surprised when he turns off the heat, meal properly cooked, and hears Phil voice the question that’s been going around in his head probably since he arrived here.

“We’re happy, aren’t we?”

His voice is so soft, so hesitant... the question feels like a physical grip around Dan’s heart.

Dan turns to face him with an expression that he knows their fans would deem a particularly soft Heart Eyes Howell. He can’t help it and frankly, he stopped trying many, many years ago.

“Yeah…”

Phil looks like he’ll start crying again any second, and Dan is not much better. Dan's the one with a reputation of crying easily, and not without cause. All things considered, he thinks he's done reasonably well with this whole experience. He takes a deep breath to smother the urge now; he wants to talk about this. He needs to tell Phil.

“We’re actually the happiest we’ve ever been, and we’ve never been… it’s never been bad. There were things, external things, that put a damper on… things, sometimes. But nothing too bad, and it was never about us, as a couple, you know? External problems and personal problems unrelated to who we are together… And through all of it, we were happy together.”

Phil bites his lip and nods. He’s losing the battle with his tears, so he pulls the glasses off to rest them on the counter. He looks so small in Dan’s enormous sweater, he’s dabbing at the tears with sweater paws, and Dan suddenly can’t stand to not be touching him. He crosses the space between them in two big strides and grabs Phil’s hips to gently scoot him to the edge of the counter, so that he can hold him properly, and Phil uncrosses his legs and clings to him the second Dan nestles between them, burying his face in Dan’s neck and his hands on his back.

They stay like that for a long time, clinging to each other and running hands through hair, up and down each other’s back, sides, arms.

After an insurmountable amount of time - neither one could have guessed how long it was - Phil straightens a bit where he sits but without letting go of where he’s wrapped all around Dan, and whispers into his neck, “I used to worry that I’d never find someone”. It makes Dan’s heart clench, makes him start crying again, and he squeezes Phil harder against his chest. “Before you. Before we met,” Phil continues, and he sounds calmer. Dan is anything but.

He pulls back, gently, and waits until Dan loosens his grip enough so that he can move back to face him. Phil wipes Dan’s cheeks and the expression on his face is filled with so much love and devotion that Dan can’t help the tears that keep falling.

“I love you so much,” Phil rasps, this time directly against his lips, hands framing Dan’s face. His thumbs are gently caressing his cheeks, moving with the line of his cheekbone and under his eyes, wiping the tears straight from the source. “I’m so glad you found me,” the whisper ends in a small choked laugh, strangled by the sheer understatement and the high emotions of the tender moment they’re sharing.

It takes Dan a few minutes to calm down, he’s so filled with love for this man he feels he’s going to rupture from it. These feelings are surely too large, too momentous to be contained in a human body.

By the time they disentangle - well, relatively, they still want to be as close as they can - they need to reheat their meal.

***

People who had no soulmate used to be regarded with suspicion and mistrust once they reached a certain age, the assumption being that they must have a soulmate that they were concealing due to the match being socially disadvantageous or even disreputable.

Patriarchal values being what they are, this suspicion was mostly levelled at women, but men had to be careful about keeping appearances as well, especially if they wanted to be in the public eye.

***

After eating, they spend hours talking. They keep touching each other; in little ways, but there’s no single way they haven’t touched each other at some point in time throughout their history. It would feel unnatural not to do it now.

The finally decide to call it a night when Dan catches Phil yawning for the fifth time in as many minutes. He opens his mouth wide in a big yawn, belatedly bringing his hand to cover it politely. The way he blinks after, as if the sleepiness crept up on him and caught him by surprise, is the cutest fucking thing and Dan wishes he had caught that on video. He really needs to start taking pictures for posterity.

They go to bed for the night. It’s relatively early for what both of them are used to, but they are physically and emotionally drained and both of them want nothing more than to get some rest and some cuddles

They mean to turn in immediately, maybe talk a bit more as they lay wrapped all over each other in their bed, but snuggling and talking turns into kissing turns into wandering hands turns into sucking into necks and rutting against each other and mutual blowjobs which finally tire them enough that they fall asleep loosely holding each other.

***

The next morning they’re happy to wake up to each other. They don’t quite want this to be over yet.

They sit down on the sofa to eat breakfast, legs entwined and far too close, and chat about nothing of importance for a bit.

“-for... the… project we’re working on that I shouldn’t tell you about. Shit. I’m bad at keeping things from you.”

Phil laughs and says nothing about all the little hints he keeps picking up on from Dan’s words, from his actions, from their home. They are small enough that it shouldn’t matter anyway, and he’s reassured by the abundant evidence that they are happy and successful, that they are working together and living together and have built a life together where they can be everything they once dreamed of.

Once they’re finished, they put the dishes away to deal with later and lay back on the sofa to laze the rest of the morning away. Phil grins when Dan immediately pulls him in to lie on top of him as they flop down. Dan has always been warm and caring, but Phil has always been the one with the insatiable need for physical closeness, and so he is used to being the one to initiate it. Except when Dan is feeling amorous, or particularly sentimental. Or when he’s jealous. The thought puts a devious little smile on his face. Dan mentioned it the previous day, but he wants to hear more about it

“So you still get possessive?” Phil brings up the subject again in hopes of hearing more, lifting his head from where it was resting on the place where Dan’s chest meets his collarbones so that he can stare at Dan’s older face a bit more. He’s still so beautiful.

“Look. I warned you about that very early on, before we physically met, even. You knew about that going in,” he sounds mock defensive, but the amusement shines through on his expression. He’s still feeling high on this whole experience. It’s like his brain decided to make up for all those years of serotonin deficiency by producing its entire accumulated deficit all at once on this single day. Or maybe Dan is so in love that he’s delirious with it and drawing weird metaphors in his head is the only way his brain can cope.

Phil rests his chin exactly between Dan’s clavicles and hums.

“It’s a character flaw, but it’s a character flaw you were aware of, and you never once discouraged it.”

“Mmmhh… I may enjoy it slightly.”

Dan laughs breathlessly.

“I got better at it, though.” Phil is momentarily distracted by Dan’s big, soft hands running up his back and lingering, before retracing their path down to his ass. Phil loses his train of thought completely when he feels the hands cup his ass and squeeze. Phil pushes back and squirms a little.

Dan is looking straight at him, and Phil still isn’t used to it, to the intensity of Dan’s eyes on him, the open adoration he can read there. It makes him blush and squirm in an entirely different way, though not an unwelcome one.

He still blushes when his Dan catches him off guard sometimes. Like that time Dan had been staying with him and Phil forgot to bring an extra towel when he took a shower, and he had to go back into his room with only one towel wrapped around his waist despite the cold. Dan had stared so intently at him Phil had felt stupidly self-conscious until Dan got up from where he’d been browsing Phil’s laptop on the bed, shoved him against the wall and kissed him until Phil forgot what self-consciousness felt like. When Dan dropped to his knees in front of him, Phil had had to lean against the wall for fear of falling down, he’d never felt weak with lust before. Not like that. Not like his entire being was going to vibrate out of his skin in excitement. Dan hadn’t believed him when he told him, afterwards, that he’d honestly just forgotten to replace the towels. He was convinced Phil had been seducing him. He’d rolled his eyes at Phil’s denial. “It worked.”

Phil couldn’t believe it, sometimes. How much and how badly Dan wanted him. And that was his Dan; skinny, awkward, teenaged Dan, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that all Phil could do sometimes was bite him because he had to get rid of all the nervous energy somehow. Clever, articulate, 19-year-old Dan who seemed more of an adult than Phil sometimes; who would wonder about life’s big questions and their place in the universe one moment and would be matching Phil’s childlike delight at their shared nerdy interests the next. His Dan, who could talk up a storm, but who was always, always, so interested in anything Phil had to say, no matter how childish or weird or nerdy or silly. Phil was still coming to grips with being loved by that Dan, his Dan, so to be facing this older version was understandably wrecking his composure a little.

This man who held him so tenderly, who still looked at him as if Phil was all he’d ever need, this man who still touched him like he was precious, like he was blessed just to be able to touch him; this man who looked grown and confident and self-assured in a way his Dan only sometimes managed. This man who was somehow the most beautiful person he’d ever seen yet not, because that was a description reserved for his Dan, but this was who his Dan would grow into, so it probably doesn’t matter that Phil can’t figure that out.

Phil is still a bit awed that he’d ended up with this gorgeous, loving, lovely creature, that he had somehow built a home with him, and that a full decade later he’d still get to have this: these looks of wonder, this tenderness, this love. Phil can read his Dan on this man’s features, and that is the most awe-inspiring part of it all.

***

“Oh, it’s snowing!” Phil exclaims, visibly excited.

Dan turns to the window and, indeed, there’s snow falling down and getting stuck on the edge of their windowsill. “Huh. Let’s go outside,” Dan proposes spontaneously, an idea taking shape in his mind’s eye. “We can make hot cocoa. We have instant, so it’ll only take a couple minutes.”

Phil takes his eyes off the window to turn a confused look to Dan. He has the cutest little frown, Dan can feel himself smiling like the besotted fool he is.

“Shouldn’t we stay inside? Uh, avoid people and such?”

“Oh, yeah. I meant outside as in ‘our own patio’, not outside as in ‘the street.’”

“Oh, we have a patio?” He turns to watch the snow through their living room window again. “Let’s do it.”

Dan takes his hand and drags him into the kitchen to heat the water and find the mixing powder. He points to their hall closet and tells Phil to pick a coat while he makes their drinks, and as soon as Phil is distracted perusing their selection of coats Dan is sneaking a bag of mini marshmallows into his sweater’s pocket.

“The drinks are done,” he calls into the hall.

Phil reappears wearing his blue winter coat and holding one of Dan’s. “I figured the black ones were yours,” his voice tilts at the end as if asking for confirmation, but his little smile tells Dan he already knows the answer.

“Yeah,” Dan confirms anyway. He bundles up, takes the steaming mugs of chocolatey goodness in both hands, and leads the way to their patio doors.

***

It’s still snowing by the time they make it outside, thankfully.

Dan places the cups on the little round patio table that’s right under their balcony. That should keep them safe from the snow.

“You want to take a picture?” Phil asks when he sees Dan open the camera app on his phone.

“I want to take 12 billion pictures, are you kidding me?” Dan wraps his right arm around Phil’s waist and squeezes lightly. “If that’s okay with you? We don’t have to, I’d just like the physical reminder.”

“Of course. Why would I mind?”

Dan shrugs. No harm in making sure.

They posed for a few selfies (a few dozen, really, but that was due to Dan taking so many in quick succession). Dan’s favourite photo would turn out to be from when Phil turned to kiss his cheek and the camera captured Dan’s mild surprise, which quickly turned into a wide smile.

Of course, Phil had then licked Dan’s dimple, making Dan shriek and break out in giggles while Phil laughed into his cheek.

Dan’s second favourite would be the one he snapped of Phil with his mouth open mid-exclamation and both hands wrapped firmly around his mug as Dan dropped a handful of the mini marshmallows he’d smuggled outside into Phil’s cup right before Phil took the first sip of his hot chocolate.

***

Another detour to the bedroom leaves them boneless and sweaty and reminiscing on their first time together.

“God, I was so nervous.”

“Yeah,” Dan smiles impossibly wide at the memory. “It made me feel so much better.”

Phil sputters out a laugh at the unexpected admission, “Better? If anything, it should have made you feel more nervous, too!”

“Nope.” Dan flicks his glabella gently, an old habit. “It made me so much more confident.”

“You are so weird,” Phil faux-complains, visibly fond. Dan rolls his eyes at him, but he isn’t any less enamoured.

“You’d had sex with men before. You clearly knew what you were doing.” Dan shuffles a bit and resettles so that he can look Phil in the eye. “You touched me like you knew my body already.” A short pause when he seems to reconsider his words. “Well, that’s what it felt like, anyway. I know what that’s actually like now. But it felt like it; like you could play my body like a master violinist with a Tchaikovsky piece.” The reference gets Dan an eyeroll. God, Dan loves it when Phil gets sassy. It gets him hot and bothered at the most inappropriate times. It’s a problem.

“My point is: you weren’t nervous because of the sex, you had that down.” His voice gets softer as he remembers a much younger Phil hovering over him, kissing him until Dan forgot to be nervous, or scared, or self-conscious. He remembers pulling back from the kiss to breathe, he’d never felt so wonderfully consumed by another person, he’d wanted to drown in this man. Then Phil had asked Dan if he was sure, again, told him to stop him if he changed his mind, or if he wanted to slow down, or if Phil did anything he didn’t like, and Dan realised for the first time since they’d kissed and officially become a thing that Phil was still nervous. He was babbling, and his hands were shaking, Dan had been too distracted by the feeling of Phil’s tongue in his mouth, Phil’s hands on him, Phil’s chest against him, pressing him against Phil’s bed, Phil on top of him holy shit, to notice that Phil was terrified.

“Well, kind of, I guess. I was a little nervous about the sex, too. I wanted to make it good for you.”

“You did,” Dan interjects.

“But I was really nervous,” Phil mock glares at him, and Dan discreetly writhes against him a little. Phil’s eyes are laughing at him, so Dan guesses he wasn’t that discreet after all. Oh, well. Phil knows what those looks do to him, that was basically his fault.

“I was nervous,” Phil continues with a softer voice, “because I was falling in love with you, and I had no idea how to deal with it. I’d never felt anything like that for anyone before. You know that.”

“Yeah. That’s why.”

“Hm?”

“That’s why I felt better. It made me realise I wasn’t alone in that. So of course it made me more confident.”

Phil shakes his head at him, smiling. “Did you seriously not know that already?”

Dan bites his lip, but he‘s smiling; Phil stares at his dimples. He always stares at Dan’s dimples. He’d never get enough of them. Of Dan. “I’d hoped,” Dan says simply.

“Who could resist you, Howell?”

Dan actually chuckles at that. “Most people?”

“Fools,” Phil declares with conviction. “Heathens.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not interested in any of them,” Dan assures him, sneaking his hand under Phil’s arm to stroke his back.

“Mmhhh…” Phil lays back against Dan’s chest and makes a triumphant, happy sound. “...damn right.”

***

Ancestral knowledge has warned us about the dangers of disclosing too much information about the future, even with the built-in failsafes that nature has wisely provided us with (i.e. the temporary blurring of the memories). As some details can survive the jump back, it is strongly encouraged that the future half of the bonded pair resist the temptation to divulge too much. Anecdotal evidence from times immemorial consistently shows that instances where too much information about the future is retained by the jumper, said information will invariably lead to negative effects in the jumper's life whenever they try to use that information as guidance.

***

“Don’t look!” Dan yelled from where he was apparently hiding a bunch of board games from Phil.

“I already said I wouldn’t!” Phil, studiously looking the other way, rolled his eyes. He’d been excited when Dan proposed playing some board games, and even more excited when he saw the tall cabinet filled to the brim with so many of them. He’d been less impressed when Dan screeched and forcibly turned him around with wide eyes.

“Wait. Shit. There’s a couple games you maybe shouldn’t see. To be safe.”

Phil thought it was overkill, but Dan was the type to worry about things like that, and Phil didn’t really mind, so he went with it. Although he really couldn’t see how getting a sneak peek into the board games that would be coming out in the next few years might classify as too much information about the future.

“Alright, crisis averted!” Dan pronounced like the utter drama queen he could be when the mood struck him, and Phil turned to face him again. “Now, which one of these perfectly familiar board games which totally exist in 2010 would you like to play?”

***

“Do you want to film a video?” Dan finally asks on their second night together. He’s been turning the idea around in his head. “Not to upload, just for us, I mean. We could play a game, or ask each other questions, or… I don’t know, do whatever you want.”

Phil lights up both at the suggestion and the information Dan’s let slip without even noticing. So they were still making videos to upload on the internet.

“Yes! Let’s!”

Dan grins back and him and leads him to their room to get the camera.

***

The entirety of the jump experience is ‘unlocked’ upon the jumper naturally reaching the point in time to which they jumped. The memories cristallise at this time and can from this point forward be recalled with perfect clarity for the remainder of the person’s life.

***

Dan only looks away for a moment, but that was enough. When he looks back, it’s over, and Dan turns to find the current version of Phil standing right where the 23-year-old had been a mere moment ago.

Dan smiles, equally happy to see any version of Phil now that he has ample photographic and video evidence of Phil’s jump to relish and treasure forever. “Welcome back.”

Phil grins brightly at him. “You were so good,” he says softly. His voice has taken that particular tender quality that Dan has only occasionally been able to bring out in him when he’s made really big or really dumb romantic gestures. Having just got through his jump probably justifies it coming out now.

Dan bites his lip through his own grin. “Yeah?”

“Did younger me tire you out? Because I have a mighty need, suddenly, to show you how much I appreciate how good you were...” He trails off and waggles his eyebrows with exaggerated vigor, like the absolute nerd he is. That makes them both laugh giddily, a bit drunk on the intensity of the whole experience.

“I am pretty tired… but you’re worth the extra effort.”

Phil giggles at his big, silly, wonderful dork of a partner, his soulmate, tongue poking out in that way that Dan has told him a million times is endearing don’t you dare stop doing it, Lester, don’t you fucking dare.

“Sap,” Phil accuses with a sappy smile of his own.

“Lies and slander, I am but the cold, empty reflection of the unfeeling void.”

Phil laughs in his face, takes his hand in his, and leads him to their room.

[art by @jorzuela]

#phanfic #phandom reverse bang #prbwinter18 #am i writing now #phan #time travel au #this is pure fluff with some smut thrown in for good measure #let me know what you thought if you read it!#and go show jorzuela some love for the edits!

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dvp95 · 4 years

Text

don’t care if you’re contagious

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: teen & up tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, sickfic, fluff word count: 803 summary: Phil keeps his eyes shut and lets Dan guide him into drinking. It’s nice, having someone he loves so much taking care of him this way. Written for @watergator

happy birthday, emmy!!!! i know this is short and silly and you’ve definitely gotten better sickfics as gifts but i hope you enjoy this additional cake!!

read on ao3 or here!

Phil groans, curling into himself like a woodlouse and rubbing his cheek against the sofa. He hears Dan sigh somewhere above him, but he can’t muster the strength to pout up at him.

“You’re such a baby,” Dan says.

His long fingers run through Phil’s hair, gently pushing his fringe off his damp forehead, and then his warm lips press against Phil’s skin. Dan kisses his forehead for a few good moments before he stops touching Phil altogether.

Phil whines and makes grabby hands at the air, eyes still squeezed shut. “Nooo, come back.”

“You’ve got a fever, love,” says Dan. His voice is further away, and Phil makes another pitiful noise. “I’m getting you some more water.”

“Don’t want water. Want cuddles.”

“The good news,” Dan says, and his voice is even further away now. Phil can hear cupboards opening. “Is that you can have both. But you gotta let me take care of you first.”

It feels like Dan is gone for half an hour and also half a minute, because Phil’s sense of time is a little distorted right now. Eventually, Dan’s large, warm hands are helping him sit up and pressing the cool plastic of one of their reusable water bottles against his lips. Phil keeps his eyes shut and lets Dan guide him into drinking. It’s nice, having someone he loves so much taking care of him this way.

The water is good, but being able to lean into Dan again is even better. Phil whines and tucks his face into Dan’s neck once the water bottle is taken away. He knows that Dan doesn’t really appreciate his neck being breathed all over, but his need for closeness outweighs that possible discomfort.

Dan sighs again.

“You said I could have a cuddle now,” Phil reminds him, lips moving against Dan’s skin as he speaks. He isn’t surprised when Dan pushes him gently onto his chest instead.

“You can have a cuddle, christ,” says Dan. “Just stop drooling on my throat.”

“You like it when I drool on your throat.”

“Absolutely not,” says Dan. His fingers run through Phil’s hair and rub circles over his back, and Phil melts into him. He hadn’t even realised how much tension he was holding in his body until Dan helps it seep out of him. “Especially not when you’ve got a fucking fever, idiot.”

Phil frowns and burrows himself further into Dan’s soft shirt. “’m not an idiot. …Forgot what we’re talking about.”

The way Dan laughs, a little huff of a noise that brushes over Phil’s ear, makes Phil’s lips curve into a content smile. He might have lost the plot of their conversations several hours ago, but he can still make Dan laugh.

“Love you,” Phil mumbles into Dan’s shirt.

“Mm,” Dan hums. He sounds happy, and Phil smiles again at the thought. “Love you and your shitty immune system. Why don’t you take a nap?”

Who is Phil to say no to such a good suggestion? He groans in protest when Dan squirms, but he ends up with his head pillowed in Dan’s lap, so he thinks it can be forgiven. He lets the floaty feeling from his fever and Dan petting his hair lull him into another fitful sleep.

Phil’s fever breaks eventually. His brain still feels fuzzy and he’s got sweat sticking his shirt to his chest, but he doesn’t feel quite as much like he’s anticipating death. He mostly just feels gross.

“Ugh,” he says out loud, stretching out on the sofa and blinking up at the ceiling. He isn’t wrapped around Dan anymore, can’t really remember when that stopped, but he’s sure that Dan hasn’t gone very far. “I feel disgusting. Need… a shower.”

“I’m not convinced you’d be able to stay standing,” says Dan.

His voice is coming from the kitchen, because Dan never goes far when Phil is feeling poorly. He likes to be able to keep an eye on him, even when it’s just a run of the mill migraine.

“You could help me,” says Phil.

Dan laughs. It’s loud and unrestrained and Phil feels familiar warmth curl in his stomach at the sound of it. He loves all the different ways he can make Dan laugh, no matter what else is going on around them.

“Keep it in your fucking pants,” he says, and Phil giggles too. “I’ll run you a bath.”

–

“You’re probably going to get sick, too,” Phil mumbles, allowing Dan to tuck an extra blanket around his limbs carefully. Dan smiles, sleepy and warm and affectionate in the way that always makes Phil want to kiss him, and shrugs his shoulders.

“So it’ll be your turn to take care of me,” says Dan. He presses his lips to Phil’s forehead again. “There are worse things in the world.”

#phanfic #phan #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words

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huphilpuffs · 5 years

Text

flares

chapter: 30/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 4760 rating: mature warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: As always, immense thanks to @obsessivelymoody for beta’ing!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

It’s too early when Phil gets out of bed to get ready for work.

His arm slips from around Dan’s waist. He presses a quick kiss to Dan’s shoulder before crawling out from behind him. The alarm clock on the bedside table tells Dan it’s just past seven in bright red lines that make his eyes burn.

He’s been staring at them since they said 5:27.

He’d woken up to a sharp breath that made his chest ache, tears in his eyes and sticky on his cheeks. His feet were numb and his hands all prickly with sleep and he’d stared into the black of Phil’s bedroom for long minutes waiting for his body to recover from whatever it was that woke him up. It had taken him until two to fall asleep last night.

Dan didn’t fall asleep again.

His legs ache now that they’re not sleepy. His arm hurts from having his weight on it for so long. Without Phil’s body holding him up, Dan rolls onto his side. It makes the muscles in his chest spasm, has him choking on nothing and groaning into the silence.

Phil comes over to the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush his fingers across Dan’s forehead.

“You okay?” he whispers.

Dan’s eyes get teary again. He blames the too-tight feeling wrapped around his heart, the thoughts that have been circling the back of his mind for the last two hours. His body hurts from not having slept and his brain keeps telling him that his mum was right, it is all his brain’s fault, that’s what Dr. Kissel will tell him today.

He reaches up, snags Phil’s hand to hold on tight, and hums something that isn’t quite affirmative.

It’s the best he can muster this morning.

A frown draws at Phil’s mouth. He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to Dan’s forehead. And then a second one, like he doesn’t really want to pull away.

Dan doesn’t want him to. If this broken feeling wasn’t so perpetual, he might ask Phil to call in sick and stay home with him, keep him company when the drone of TV programs isn’t enough to keep him out of his own head. But Phil’s done a lot. Dan’s needed a lot.

He hopes that’ll diminish today.

Hope’s never been his strong suit before doctor’s appointments.

He tugs on Phil’s hand until he leans down, fringe tickling Dan’s brow, and kisses him, soft and gentle and slow.

And then he lets Phil go.

---

Dan: i hate weekdays

Phil doesn’t respond. Not that he should. Dan knows he probably has to do extra since he’s leaving early to come to Dan’s appointment. That doesn’t keep him from flicking his phone on and off over and over again for too many minutes after he sends the message.

It’s been a long morning. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only half eleven and Dan almost wants to cry.

There’s four and a half hours until his appointment. He’s been staring into space for so long his brain is starting to go numb and yet there’s too much going on inside his mind to focus on anything else.

He’d considered sitting down, rambling into the void, also known as his laptop webcam, again. It helped last time. But it feels almost silly, when he’s by himself, without Phil to recommend he do it. That, and the idea of setting any of it up sounds like way too much effort today.

He double taps the screen, copies the message and sends the exact same thing to Taylor.

His phone vibrates when she responds. It stings the skin of his palm, feels like it rattles the bones in his wrists. He doesn’t much care.

Taylor: why?

Dan: phil’s not home

Dan: and my appts this afternoon and i cant stop thinking about it

He swallows, looking back up to stare at the TV. He’s definitely seen this episode of Doctor Who before, probably on another day like today, watching the endless marathons of the same few shows for hours on end when his body doesn’t really let him do much else.

His brain can’t process it today. It’s too busy replaying every appointment he’s ever had in the most painful sort of slow motion.

Taylor: :(

Taylor: i know that feeling

Dan: yea well it sucks

He rests his phone on his leg, where the pressure makes a dull ache bloom like a new bruise. His thumb hovers over the home button until the three little dots of Taylor’s typing pop onto the screen. He watches, because it’s better than staring at white walls and waiting for minutes to tick by.

Taylor: want some company?

Taylor: I know i’m not phil but I also don’t have a job

Dan: pls

---

He has to stand up to let her into the flat.

His steps are slow. The blanket he has wrapped around his shoulders flutters over his skin and leaves phantom burns in its wake. His hand almost feels too weak to turn the doorknob when he gets there. There’s a stabbing pain in his wrist that makes it feel like it might shatter as it twists.

Taylor’s smiling on the other side. It falters, just slightly, when she sees him.

“I’d hug you hello, but you look like you’re dying,” she says.

Dan manages half, or maybe a quarter of a smile. “Feel like it too.”

He leads her back to the sofa, still limping. Walking past the breakfast bar reminds him he hasn’t had anything to eat today, and barely a few sips of water to drink. The thought makes his stomach churn, something burning at the back of his throat. He won’t eat until after the appointment.

Maybe later, if it goes poorly.

Probably later.

Taylor tucks herself against the armrest as Dan sits down, knees drawn up to her chest, face pressed against one. Being sat with her, like this, reminds him of being back in uni. Except she looks better. There’s less darkness under her eyes and less oil in her hair, and Dan wishes he could relate.

His whole body feels heavy. Worse than it did even then.

“That bad, huh?” says Taylor.

“Can’t sleep,” says Dan. “I don’t know what to expect.”

“So you’re expecting the worst?”

He can’t be bothered to nod. The corner of Taylor’s mouth quirks up knowingly, and she reaches out to rest a hand right by Dan’s knee, without touching.

“We should talk about something else,” she says. “Something happy. Keep your mind off it for a while.”

“Like what?”

She shrugs. “Just tell me something good that happened? My therapist makes me do it sometimes.”

“Oh,” says Dan. He stares down at the table, where his phone’s resting, screen down, and his laptop’s closed. His hand curls tight around his blanket.

When he looks back up at Taylor, her brow’s furrowed, smile fallen into a straight line. “You look like you’re thinking about something,” she says.

“I am,” Dan mumbles. He swallows, thumb sweeping across the fleece of his blanket until his fingertip’s gone tingly. “Phil kissed me.”

Taylor’s jaw drops. Her eyes go happy. She reaches over, actually touches Dan this time, just enough to grab his hand and squeeze it once in glee. “Oh my god. That’s, like, the best kind of happy,” she says. “It is happy, right?”

Dan wants to point out that he wouldn’t have mentioned it if it wasn’t, but the smile on her face finally has his anxiety unfurling just enough for him to breathe a little easier. Maybe Taylor’s therapist actually has some useful ideas.

He forces himself not to follow that thought to the next, the ones saying maybe all he needs is therapy over and over again in his mum’s voice in the back of his head.

“Yeah, it’s happy,” he says. “You know that.”

“And you’re not having some sexuality crisis you need me to talk you through?” she says, half laughing now. “I’ve been there. I can try to help.”

Dan actually manages half a chuckle, like he did when she first told him she liked girls, halfway through a complaint about how everyone at uni somehow had a love life except them. “Reckon I got over that when he started kissing my head all the time,” he says. “Thanks for the offer though.”

She nods, still holding his hand, staring at the side of his face with a smile. “So this is just happy, right? No inner turmoil about what it means or anything?”

It’s been so long since Dan’s had anything be that simple that his brain doesn’t quite grasp the concept. He almost tells her no, just because it makes more sense, because his brain is really good at finding problems where there’s probably non right now.

It doesn’t feel like he can be just happy now.

But then he thinks about the soft goodnight kiss Phil brushed against his lips before they went to bed to bed last night, and an actual smile cracks past the fear.

“Yeah,” he tells her. “That’s just happy.”

---

They talk about Phil for a while.

It’s easy, with Taylor, to just ramble about sleepy cuddles and soft kisses and the way it all makes him feel good for the first time in ages. It reminds Dan of being twelve again, before everything went wrong and his body broke and any chance at normalcy crumbled before his very eyes.

Maybe there is room for a sexuality crisis, if he thinks too hard about the crushes he might have had if he’d been healthy.

Dan doesn’t think about it. He lets his head fall back against the sofa and feels his thoughts lapse into everything that came after age twelve. His story about their kiss ended a bit ago, faded into discussions about where he wants things to go from here, and then into silence.

There’s a lot of things Dan wants now. Most of them have nothing to do with kissing Phil.

“Hey,” says Taylor. He’s not sure how long they’ve just been sitting here, but her smile has fallen into a frown. “You okay?”

He shrugs. Vaguely, he processes that people are still talking on the TV, that Taylor’s hand has fallen to rest on his knee. “Just thinking.”

“Not about happy things?”

His chest burns when he chuckles. The rush of giddy conversation has faded, left Dan’s body more exhausted now than it was before. He almost wants to nap, except he knows his brain wouldn’t let him. Days like today are just days where he’s meant to be sore and tired and feel all of it acutely.

“No,” he says. “Not about happy things.”

Taylor squeezes his knee. It hurts. It’s comforting anyway.

“Do you want me to try and distract you with more happy things?”

“Don’t think you can,” he admits. “I think I’ve used up all my happy energy for today.”

His head falls back again, gaze drifting up to the ceiling. His vision goes blurry. It’s not from tears. Dan’s pretty sure his eyes are just tired, too. It takes too much energy to force them to focus again.

He takes a breath. It hurts his throat, his head being bent back like this, and tugs at the tendons in his neck.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a happy day,” he whispers, voice cracking “I’m–”

Scared. He doesn’t say it.

“I know,” says Taylor.

They sit there, listening to the same drawl that Dan usually does. His eyes have fallen closed. He can hear his own breathing, loud compared to Taylor’s, but he doesn’t much care to worry about it. Taylor’s never been bothered by the little ways Dan’s body is different.

She just leans forward, snagging the remote from where it was sitting on the coffee table, and says, “Let’s put on a better film, at least.”

If Dan had the energy, he’d smile.

---

Phil gets home from work earlier than Dan expected.

“I worked my lunch,” he explains. “And my boss deemed me completely useless today. Apparently I was distracted.”

He’s sitting on the armrest, leaning over Dan. Whatever lighthearted smile he’s attempting lasts about half a second before it falls. His hand lands on Dan’s head, drawing his curls back. Taylor’s still sitting next to them, but Phil hardly hesitates before leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of Dan’s brow.

“Wonder why,” says Taylor. It’s a whisper, like she’s trying not to interrupt. “I should get going, though. I’m sure you guys have to get ready or some shit.”

Dan almost asks her to stay, just so he has an excuse to pretend that three thirty isn’t slowly sneaking up on him.

“Thanks for coming over,” says Phil.

“Yeah, of course.”

Dan can hear her smile, can see Phil’s. It makes his chest go warm.

Taylor looks down at him before she leaves. “Good luck,” she says. “Text me when you’re ready to talk about whatever the doctor has to say.”

“I will,” says Dan. He hopes his smile is enough to tell her how much he appreciates the space she permits him.

Phil escorts her to the door. They hug before she leaves. Dan hears the murmur of her voice, too far for him to pick up on any words. He listens to the door open, then close, and then Phil returns by himself, dropping into the seat Taylor was just occupying.

Dan should probably feel bad for how relieved he is that Phil’s here now, but he doesn’t, not really.

His head falls back against the cushions, too, turned so he’s looking at Dan. He looks exhausted, eyes puffy and face all drawn.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Shit,” says Dan. “You?”

“Scared,” Phil whispers.

Dan nods, awkward and crooked with his head still tilted back. He reaches into the space between them, taking Phil’s hand in his. Their fingers interlock, and the pressure against his knuckles is not very comfortable, but it makes the corner of Phil’s mouth quirk up.

“Yeah,” says Dan. “Me too.”

---

They get to the doctor’s office early.

Sitting at home, waiting for the minutes to tick by, had become unbearable. Dan forgot that waiting rooms are always exponentially worse. Phil’s arm isn’t wrapped around him here. They don’t hold hands. Their feet are pressed together between their seats. It’s not enough.

Across from them, a mum is rocking her baby as he fusses. And older man is reading one of the magazines left out for them. Phil had tried to pick one up, and had put it down about thirty seconds later. The secretary who booked this appointment is talking on the phone. The other is checking someone in.

There’s a poster about heart failure on the wall.

Dan stares at it until his chest starts to hurt and the anxiety makes his eyes water.

Phil grabs his hand, holds on tight.

“Your heart's fine,” he says. “You’ve had that tested before, right?”

“Yeah.” Dan lets out a breath. “Yeah. It was fine.”

“Okay,” says Phil. “Okay. That’s good.”

His grip on Dan’s hand loosens, his breath coming easier.

Dan’s stays locked painfully between his ribs until a nurse steps out from the hallway and calls his name.

---

She checks his height, even though he hasn’t grown in over a year. And then his weight, as though it’s fluctuated much since his last growth spurt, since he lost his appetite and ability to exercise all at once.

“Looks good,” she says, like she thinks that’s what Dan cares about.

She leads him into a little room and asks him questions, the familiar kind with automatic answers. No, he’s not diabetic. No, he doesn’t smoke. No, he hasn’t had caffeine in the last couple hours, because just the thought of putting something on his stomach makes him want to be sick.

He doesn’t say that last bit.

She wraps the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Dan squeezes his eyes shut against the pain when it tightens. He should be used to it. Part of him doesn’t think he’ll ever be.

His pulse is high, his blood pressure low. The nurse points it out.

“It’s always like that,” he explains.

She looks back at him, brows furrowed, skeptical. Dan hates it. He manages a shrug and a smile, an unspoken apology for something stupidly out of his control like his heart not beating quite right.

He tries not to think about chronic obstructive heart failure.

The nurse jots something down on her triage paper and leads him into an exam room to sit and wait some more. Phil grabs his hand again the moment she closes the door behind her.

---

Dr. Kissel is smiling when she walks in. Dan’s not sure if that’s supposed to be comforting or not.

“How are you doing today?” she asks as she sits down, turning to log into the computer.

“Uh,” says Dan. “As okay as to be expected?”

She hums, turning back to him in her spinny office chair. The collar of her lab coat is popped awkwardly at one side. There’s a pen hanging from its pocket, a stethoscope draped across her shoulders. Her smile hardly falters as she says, “So, not very well at all, I assume?”

It’s so not what Dan expected that he chuckles. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I take it you want to get straight to your test results, then?” says Dr. Kissel.

He swallows hard. If the nurse thought his pulse was high before, he’d half laugh at what she’d have to say now. “Please.”

Dr. Kissel turns back to her computer at that. He watches her click through what he vaguely recognizes as his chart. Just above the notes from his last appointment are the last things his old doctor ever wrote about him, at the appointment where he counted Dan’s tests one by one and told him that if they were all fine there was nothing he could do unless Dan was willing to accept he was imagining it all.

Dan doesn’t read them, doesn’t want to. He never wants to be exposed to those words again.

He watches Dr. Kissel click on a link of some kind, and a monochrome image fills her computer screen. It takes him a second to realize he’s staring at his own brain, at the results from his MRI, autoplaying on a loop through his entire head over and over again.

Something in his chest spasms. Phil squeezes his hand. He never let it go.

“Okay, so first we have your MRI, which are the results I was most concerned about,” says Dr. Kissel. She turns back towards him, grabbing her pen to use it as a pointer. “If there was any signs of deterioration or abnormal structures like a tumour or aneurysm, we’d see it here.”

Dan stares. He can’t really see anything in his brain. He doesn’t know what a sign of deterioration looks like. He almost doesn’t want to ask.

He doesn’t have to, because Phil says, “And?”

“And I see no signs of any abnormalities with your brain,” says Dr. Kissel. “Your brain appears healthy, Dan.”

“Oh,” he says.

His eyes are burning now. He hates the fact that it’s not from relief, that he doesn’t really know what’s welling in his chest, putting pressure in his skull, but it doesn’t feel good when he knows it should.

“What about the, uh, bloodwork?”

She doesn’t open those results, just leaves the screen playing a morbid cycle of his perfectly healthy brain.

Dr. Kissel smiles, and says, “Those results also came back normal.”

Dan just about breaks down right there in the middle of her office. A tear falls down his cheek. His leg starts shaking. Phil has to reach out and rest a hand on his back just to keep him from giving up on keeping his breathing even at all.

Dr. Kissel reaches out, rests her hand on the armrest, close to Dan’s elbow.

“That doesn’t mean anything, you know,” she says. Her voice has gone soft. Dan’s never had a doctor, not even a therapist, speak to him like that. “I reviewed your medical history and I’m aware of the conclusions drawn by your past physician. That’s not where I’m going with this.”

“It’s not?” says Dan. It sounds choked. He feels like a kid.

Except when he was a kid he didn’t have to deal with any of this.

“It’s not,” says Dr. Kissel. “Rather, I suspect you might have a condition that doesn’t show up on any of our current tests, at least not to our knowledge. Ruling out other conditions is the first step to diagnosing it.”

Phil’s hand starts rubbing circles against his spine at that. If Dan looked over, he’s pretty sure Phil would be smiling.

But he doesn’t. He can’t look away from Dr. Kissel, not now. “What’s the next step?” he whispers.

“Well, there’s two. The diagnostic criteria is in the process of evolving, so I’d like to perform both,” she says. “One of them might be painful.”

“Can we do that one first?”

It’s probably the wrong order to want. Dan doesn’t care. Part of him wants the pain to remind him that she’s actually looking for something physical. For once. For the first fucking time in seven years.

Dr. Kissel smiles like she knows that and nods her head just once. “I’ll need you to stand up for this,” she says. “I’m going to press against specific spots on your body, and you need to tell me if it hurts, okay?”

He nods. His heart’s still racing when he stands. His legs feel weak with something other than exhaustion.

Something almost thrilling, like anticipation.

Dr. Kissel starts by pressing her thumb against the base of his skull, right where his head meets his neck. Dan almost screams at the burst of pain it causes.

It turns into a laugh, delirious and bubbly and out of control. When he turns, Phil’s smiling at him. Dr. Kissel is staring at him expectantly.

“Yeah, that hurts,” he says, so she does the same thing to the other side of his head.

He laughs again, because it hurts and it feels like that’s what it’s supposed to do for whatever mystery illness Dr. Kissel’s testing him for. Phil laughs with him. He’s probably confused, but he doesn’t seem to care. Dr. Kissel moves onto the next spot, right where Dan’s neck meets his shoulder, and mumbles a quiet three under her breath when he squirms away from her touch.

In the end, he gets sixteen out of eighteen spots. Dr. Kissel tells him the minimum for a diagnosis is eleven.

Dan probably shouldn’t be proud of that.

He settles back into his seat. The pressure of it hurts. Pain has bloomed all across his body and Dr. Kissel offered an apology that it would probably take a little while to fade and Dan doesn’t care. His leg bounces even though there was a spot in his hip that almost made it give out completely.

His knee stings from when she pressed there. Dan rests his hand there anyway.

“What’s next?” he asks. He probably sounds insane.

Dr. Kissel just reaches over and draws a packet of papers from her folders. She sets it down on the desk by him. The front page has a picture of a gender-non-specific person with arms spread and eyes closed. The top of it has a header that reads Fibromyalgia Diagnostic Criteria.

Dan has no idea what that means.

“You just need to fill out this assessment,” says Dr. Kissel. And then, “I told you this one would be less painful.”

Phil chuckles. Dan does, too. He grabs the pen she offers him and starts reading.

The first question asks him to check off every area of the body where he’s had pain in the last week. Dan reads the list once, twice, three times before looking up at Dr. Kissel.

“Is it stupid of me to check off all of them?”

“Not if it’s the truth,” she says. “That’s a very common response for people with this condition.”

“Oh,” says Dan. Something twists in his stomach at being included in that. “Okay.”

So he checks off all of them, his shoulders and arms and upper and lower back, and jaw and neck and chest and legs and buttocks. The only thing that goes unchecked in the last option that reads None of the above . Dan’s brain can’t even wrap around that idea.

The second question is called the Symptom Severity Score. It asks Dan to rate some symptoms on a scale of zero to three. It feels like a failure when he needs to check the box next to 1: slight or mild problems when it comes to cognitive symptoms.

Dan’s pretty sure that part of his brain is the only part of him that still works properly. Most of the time.

The last question is just a list of symptoms that tells him to check off all the ones he’s had in the last week. He has to ask what some are. Some are things he has but never really thought were related. His gaze lingers on the word seizures for the first time, printed on a list that includes rashes and dry eyes.

It’s the first thing that’s really scared him. That box stays unchecked. He wonders how much it matters.

When he hands the test back to Dr. Kissel, she’s already nodding like she knows the answer it’ll contain. Dan’s pretty sure he does, too.

She writes a giant 28 in blue pen at the bottom of the page, and looks up at him with a sad sort of smile.

“Okay, this confirms my suspicions,” she says. “Your symptoms appear to be caused by Fibromyalgia.”

Dan swallows, bobs his head. “Okay. Okay,” he says. “Uh, what does that mean?”

---

His legs feel different when he walks outside. Maybe because they still ache from the pressure point test she did, or because there’s a residual tingling from how much he was shaking during the appointment. Except the rest of Dan’s body feels different too.

The sunlight burns his tired eyes. Holding his head up takes too much energy. They stand on the curb waiting for their cab to show up and Dan’s chest aches and yet feels lighter than it has in days.

Weeks. Years, probably.

Dr. Kissel explained to him what it was, with a bunch of fancy medical terms he’ll need to google later. Something called central sensitization means his brain is fucked up and doesn’t know how to process shit and makes everything hurt and it fits so very well with how his body seems to experience the word that Dan doesn’t care that he doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t know much right now. She recommended lifestyle changes as a first step and he has no idea what that’s going to entail. He doesn’t know what meds he might end up on, or how much better he’ll get. Dr. Kissel told him this was usually a life-long condition.

Dan feels like that should be terrifying. Except he’s grown to expect that whatever it was wouldn’t be an easy fix.

He’s not dying, though. She told him that a few times, like reassurance among all the supposed-to-be-bad news.

His weak legs sway under him after standing for too long. Phil reaches out to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him close so Dan can lean against the steadiness of his frame. He doesn’t seem scared anymore. Maybe he will be again, once everything’s had time to sink in.

Phil leans in close, pressing his nose to the side of Dan’s head. “How are you feeling?”

Maybe Dan will be scared again, too. But he’s really not right now.

“Can I say something crazy?” he asks.

“Go ahead.”

He pulls back, just enough to catch Phil’s gaze with his own, and says, “I think this is one of the best days of my life.”

Phil doesn’t look at him like he’s crazy. He smiles, and leans forward to press a kiss to Dan’s forehead, and holds him even tighter when his legs start to feel weak again.

The cab that pulls up looks just like the one that drove them here. Dan climbs into the back seat next to Phil, letting his head fall against the headrest, and feels himself smiling.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #flares #callie writes words

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cactuslester · 5 years

Text

And, Like Putting On Glasses, I Saw the World in Perfect Clarity

Summary: Dan thinks this trip to the Isle of Man will be like all the other trips to visit the Lesters. Little does he know, Phil has a 3 carat surprise for him.

Word Count: ~6.2K

Genre: fluff, established relationship, proposal, engagement, December 2018 theories (I think these theories are prevalent enough to be their own genre/trope in the phandom)

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello guys! I haven't posted a fic in nearly two years, but I'm trying to get back into writing. I think all the engagement theories swirling around the fandom right now are adorable, so I had to write about them. Huge thanks to my lovely betas Hayden @vinylester, Martha @headlesghost, and Sarah @thedemonsadvocate! Any feedback, positive or negative, is much appreciated.

AO3

“Hey, our flight leaves in three hours, get home soon okay?”

Phil nestled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he listened to the reply from the other end and responded, “Yeah okay, mmhm, don’t worry, I remembered. Okay okay alright love you bye.”

He dropped the t-shirt he was folding to hang up the call and tossed the phone onto his bed, wincing when he heard it slide off and hit the floor. Oh well, it’s got a case on it, he reminded himself. He then made his way to his drawers and opened the top one; after rummaging through the socks, boxer shorts, and for some reason, a bunny ears headband, he finally found what he was looking for and pulled out a little velvet box. It was jet black and surprisingly light, considering it was carrying an object of greater gravity than his computer, cameras, and collection of awards combined. Phil breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the ring still sat safely inside. Sliding down to the floor in front of the drawers, he gazed at it for a moment, admiring his own ability in picking out jewelry. It was a simple pavé ring made of white gold, studded with two rows of tiny glittering diamonds. There was no secret to the fact that Dan always had a mild internal conflict when it came to picking between his two aesthetics—minimalism and luxury, so Phil had found the perfect balance. A simple white gold band would pair well with anything Dan would choose to wear, and the pavé diamonds added luxe without being gaudy.

The mid-morning sun shining through the window of his room bounced off each of the tiny diamonds, casting little beams of light on the walls and ceiling, giving the illusion that the room was filled with hundreds of tiny stars. The effect was breathtaking, and Phil knew Dan would think so too. He got a little lost staring at the ring, thinking about what it represented, knowing that if he had told his younger self from ten years ago that he would make it this far, he would have never believed it. Phil was doing something he truly loved next to the person he loved the most in the world. They had just finished a hugely successful world tour and had so many plans for the future for both their professional and personal lives to look forward to.

All he had to do was pop the question.

The sound of the front door opening snapped Phil out of his contemplation as he scrambled to close the box and tuck it inside the side pocket of his suitcase between two pairs of socks. “Dan?” he called, keeping his voice steady as if he didn’t almost get caught holding a ring box, “Are you nearly done packing? We need to call the taxi in an hour.” Phil heard the jangle of Dan’s keys dropping in the ceramic dish where they kept them, promptly followed by his footsteps bounding up the stairs a second later.

“Uhhhh yeah, I just have my clothes left to pack. Oh, and toiletries also.”

Phil rolled his eyes even though he knew Dan couldn’t see. “Dan, that’s nearly everything. I told you to start packing last night. My mum’s gonna kill me if we miss our flight.”

“Don’t worry, I promise you we won’t be late. Maybe we’ll even be early; I know I can have everything packed and ready to go in forty minutes.”

Phil crossed his arms, half jokingly, half accusingly. “Really? Forty? You’re bluffing and you know it.”

“I promise I’m not. Okay, if I’m not packed in forty, then I’ll take the bins out for two weeks after we come back. Deal?”

“Deal. I hope you’re looking forward to making awkward bin room conversation with our weird neighbors.”

Dan, ever the procrastinator, knew for sure that he could pack in forty minutes as long as he acted quickly. The only essentials he knew he had to bring were his wallet, a couple pairs of black jeans, some t-shirts, socks, shoes, a coat, and his phone. Everything else on the list wasn’t as important, and if he forgot something aside from the essentials, Phil’s parents would probably have it at their house or he could survive a few days without it. He mimed a silent prayer to thank whatever deities there were that he had escaped his dependence on his hair straighteners. Bringing them on every trip used to be such a hassle.

While throwing shirts into the suitcase and cramming miscellaneous items in the spaces between, he let himself get lost in thought. It had been such a tumultuous year, but he was so thankful that all of it had happened. He never thought he’d get this far. And now after such a successful but tiring year, he was getting to spend time with his boyfriend and his family before going to see his own. He was living a charmed life for sure.

Dan stared at his own hands whilst folding a jumper. Ringless. Nine years together was a long time to go without formal engagement. Sure. they had discussed marriage many times, countless times, laying in bed together late at night as the roar of London traffic passed by. And as nine years were soon to turn to ten, he knew it was inevitable. But the question remained. When? He knew that Phil would probably propose soon as they had talked about getting married late 2019 or early 2020, but he also knew he wouldn’t propose during Christmastime. Dan thought it would be adorably cliché and romantic if Phil proposed to him in front of a Christmas tree or in the snow, but he knew that Christmas was a time for Phil to focus on his own family and not the time for him to be planning how to execute a proposal. So Dan knew he wouldn’t be getting a ring this weekend, but he wasn’t upset about it; Phil would plan a beautifully romantic proposal when the time came.

Dan finished folding the last of the shirts and stood up to unplug his phone charger from the socket, tossing it triumphantly in the suitcase as he called out to Phil, “Phil! I’m done packing, and it’s only 11:17; I have twelve minutes to spare! Guess you’ll be the one taking the bins out for two weeks.”

“Hey, wait!” Phil responded indignantly, “I never said I’d take the bins out if you were able to pack in time. You just said that you’d take the bins out if you didn’t pack on time, and I agreed to that.”

“Oh come on, it was implied that the opposite applies: you’d take the bins out if I did pack on time.”

“No it wasn’t and you know it; you just made that up now.”

“Philll,” Dan whined, lips forming a petulant pout, “But aren’t you proud of me for being so responsible and on time? I think you should still take the bins out.”

Phil had never been able to resist Dan’s whiny voice; it was his second biggest weakness right under Dan’s doe eyes. “Oh my god fine, but this is the last time you get away with stating the terms of a bet so vaguely.”

“Aw thanks, love you!” Dan teased.

“Love you too,” Phil responded with slight exasperation, “Now call the taxi or else we’ll be late anyways.”

It was a miracle that security checks went as quickly as they did, with it being the holidays and all, but Phil wasn’t complaining. Even though they now had an hour they would have to kill, this was much preferred to missing the flight. “What’s the gate number again?” he asked Dan, who was holding both of their boarding passes.

“B34, so that way,” Dan pointed to the terminal entrance on their left. “I think it’s actually the same gate we were at when we flew to the Isle last year.”

“Huh, wacky coincidence, what are the odds?”

“Very low,” Dan answered, not fully paying attention to the conversation but instead looking around for something, “Hey, we have an hour, should we go to the Starbucks? It’s at terminal C, but I think we have time.”

“Yeah, it should be fine since our gate’s right at the beginning of terminal B.”

They made their way to the Starbucks in companionable silence. It was moments like these that Phil treasured the most. They didn’t always have to be actively talking to each other to enjoy each others’ company. Just walking with Dan and being in the same space as him made Phil happy, and he knew Dan appreciated it too. Over the years, they had learned love should not always be measured by how codependent they were or if they were constantly speaking to each other. Rather, the true testaments to the strength of their relationship were their ability to communicate with each other without words and their ability to spend some time apart with their own families, knowing that the other loved and was thinking about them.

The Starbucks was busy with people, all waiting for their holiday flights to visit their families or go on vacation. Phil started towards the line, “I’ll order, you get us some seats before they’re all taken.”

A few minutes later, Phil found Dan at the primo location of window seats and headed towards him, caramel macchiatos in hand. He set the two coffees down before taking a seat and promptly picking up his macchiato and blowing on it, hoping to drink it as fast as possible; he hadn’t had a coffee yet this morning. A small smile formed on Dan’s lips when he saw what Phil had ordered. They both loved the exclusive holiday drinks, but caramel macchiatos held a special place in their hearts. It was the drink they both ordered when they met each other for the first time in Manchester, and it was the drink they famously ordered in their Day in the Life video. Dan had brought up the idea of filming another festive Day in the Life this year, but Phil quickly shot that idea down, saying that they already had a lot to do with the Dilmas videos. In reality, Phil knew they could handle editing those videos had it been any other year, but this year, he was too busy planning something else. To combat any suspicion from Dan, Phil chalked it up to lingering fatigue from the tour and his want to have a relaxing holiday season. He may not be a great actor, but he was a damn good liar, which aided him greatly in coordinating his holiday plan without Dan finding out. And so far, his ploy was working perfectly.

They finished their coffees as boarding time drew near and strolled back to terminal B. On the way back to the terminal, Dan so desperately wanted to intertwine his hand with Phil’s. Nine years together, and Dan was still the romantic sap he was in 2009, wanting to hold his boyfriend’s hand if even just for a couple minutes on the walk back to their terminal. But the Heathrow airport was packed, and there was bound to be someone who would recognize them in the throng of people. At least Dan knew he could take comfort in knowing that within a year, he and Phil will have come out to their audience and they could hold hands whenever and wherever they pleased.

The flight to the Isle of Man was short but bumpy; they couldn’t have expected it to be very smooth given how small the plane was. Dan posted several photos on his story about the plane and basked in how good it felt to be open about visiting Phil’s family. Nine years later and Dan, at heart, was still the smitten fanboy he was in 2009, taking any opportunity to brag about being Phil’s person.

The taxi ride over to Phil’s parents house was short as well and consisted mostly of Phil trying to calm Dan down—he was visibly anxious, fiddling with his hands and running his fingers through his hair. In his head, he knew that the Lesters approved of him wholly and considered him part of the family, but he couldn’t help but be filled with the nervousness akin to meeting a significant other’s parents for the first time every time he went up north with Phil.

When they got out of the taxi, Kathryn was already waiting outside the front door. “Hi mum!” Phil half walked, half jogged his way over to her, suitcase trailing behind him.

She pulled him into a hug, “Oh Phil, I’ve missed you. And yes I know you’re going to say I saw you when you came back from tour, but that feels like forever ago.” She let Phil go and waved Dan over, pulling him into a hug, “Come here, you too Dan.”

“Hello Kathryn, how’ve you been?” he asked, morphing into a perfectly polite version of himself as he always did in front of Phil’s parents.

“Oh, I’ve been well. Just so glad you boys are both visiting; I really need people to help me finish all the mince pies we’ve made, and Martyn and Cornelia won’t make nearly as big a dent in them as I know you two will.”

“You know me too well,” Dan laughed as the three headed inside.

Inside, Nigel was pulling cookies out of the oven, telling Dan and Phil how Kathryn made a couple of batches in anticipation of their arrival. Martyn and Cornelia were sat on the couch, heads bent over Martyn’s phone as they both read something off it. The pair stood up and greeted Dan and Phil when they heard them come in. After all their greetings and hugs were exchanged, Kathryn called everyone to the table for afternoon tea and cookies. Inevitably, the conversation turned towards the future.

“Yeah, Phil and I decided that we were going to take a little break from the gaming channel just for a while. We just want to take a step back and decide what we want to do next. This year was a huge year for our careers of course, and next year, we want to have a little more time to focus on our personal lives,” Dan explained. Martyn shot a knowing glance at Phil, but Dan didn’t notice. “I’m not sure if Phil’s told you, but we’re going to start looking for a house. We’re not going to move for another year or two probably, but we want to start looking for a place.”

“Actually,” Kathryn replied, “Phil hasn’t told us yet, but I wish you two the best of luck. Finding a house in London can’t be an easy task.”

After some more conversation and catching up, Phil got up from the table, subtly motioning to Martyn to do so too. Dan was about to get up and follow, but Phil stopped him, “Dan it’s okay, Martyn just wanted to discuss a small thing about the AmazingPhil merch, not super important, you can stay.”

“Oh okay,” Dan sat back down, jumping back into easy conversation with Phil’s parents and Cornelia.

Martyn and Phil headed to the guest room where Martyn and Cornelia were staying. “Okay Phil, what’s the game plan this weekend?”

“Alright, so the biggest thing is to decide what day I should do it,” Phil replied, “I was thinking maybe after Christmas Eve dinner in front of the tree, but I don’t want to take away from the festivities and all of mum’s awesome planning that goes into the Eve dinner. Is there anywhere else I could do it that would also be super pretty and romantic?”

“Aren’t we all going on a hike tomorrow? What if you did it at the top of the peak? Then you guys could get some really great photos with the mountains in the background.”

“Oh my god you’re so right, that would be perfect! Okay on the hike tomorrow it is.”

“Okay, so how exactly do you want to do it?”

Phil explained his idea, and Martyn nodded approvingly. It would require some help from both Martyn and Cornelia, but it wasn’t anything too complicated or fancy. Phil knew that Dan was a sucker for the simple but romantic gestures, and this was exactly that.

Morning light shone through the window of Dan and Phil’s guest room, filtered by the wispy clouds and the curtains. Dan rolled over, opening his eyes to an empty bed. “Phil?” he called out into the house, tensing when he realized the other Lesters may still be asleep and he might’ve just woken them up.

Dan heard soft footsteps on the stairs, and Phil appeared at the door, mug in hand, “Morning, sleepyhead. I brought you some tea.”

“Mm, thanks,” Dan took the warm mug in his hands, “What time is it?”

“It’s eight-forty, everyone is already up. C’mon we’re all having breakfast downstairs.”

“Eight-forty? Everyone is up at eight-forty during the holidays?”

“Yeah, remember the hike? My mum was hoping that we could all head out by nine-thirty and be back by noon in time for lunch.”

“Ohh okay, you go finish your breakfast, I’ll be down right after I get dressed.”

“Okay,” Phil pressed a kiss to Dan’s forehead and headed back downstairs.

Dan had a few sips of his tea and smiled when he realized it was Taylors of Harrogate Earl Grey, his favorite. It was a small gesture, but it warmed Dan’s heart that Phil rummaged through the Lesters’ cabinet of tea to find it. Flipping open his suitcase, he checked the weather on his phone with one hand and looked for clothes with the other. 5ºC, so he could do with a button up and a light coat. He got dressed and grabbed his coat and the earmuffs that Phil always made fun of to bring downstairs with him. The Lesters and Cornelia greeted him warmly with a chorus of “Morning Dan!” and “Come sit and eat!” Halfway through breakfast, Dan realized that last night’s sleep had done him good; most of his anxieties about spending time with the Lesters had faded away. In this moment, laughing and talking with them, sharing anecdotes from the tour and musing about the future, Dan truly felt like part of the family.

“Should we head out now?” Cornelia asked as everyone took their last sips of tea and coffee and their last bites of scones. She was met with nods all around and everyone grabbed their coats. The hiking trail wasn’t far, just a ten minute walk from the house, and the trail itself wasn’t too intimidating either. Everyone had referred to this as a “hike” in planning it, but really, it was more of a stroll through the hills complemented by breathtaking scenery. It had snowed a little the night before, just enough for a centimeter to settle, just enough to make tiny snowballs which Phil promptly made and lobbed at Martyn and Dan.

The hike was downright scenic. The sun was bright, casting down golden light, but the scattered cloud cover kept it from being blinding. The grass at their feet, made pale by the cold, waved in the breeze, an exquisite dance rarely appreciated by human eyes. And the ocean in the distance was bluer than ever and still enough to reflect your own soul back at you. Martyn was chatting with Dan at the front of the group with the Lester parents behind them and Phil and Cornelia at the very back. “Are you excited?” she asked Phil, keeping her voice low so Dan couldn’t hear.

“Yeah, I am, but I’m also so nervous I’m actually trembling,” Phil held his hand out in front of him to show Cornelia.

“Don’t worry it’ll be fine; it’ll go perfectly, I promise. Martyn and I will distract him like we planned, and when he turns around, you’ll be there, simple,” she said with a smile.

Phil nodded, but there was still worry behind his eyes, “But what if he says no?”

She shook her head lightly with a smile, “Phil don’t be silly, there’s no way he will say no. You’ve been together for nine years now and have a love story that would make Aphrodite jealous. He looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky and set the sun on its course. Plus, you both have already talked about getting married, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s expecting a proposal soon.”

“Oh no, you think he’s expecting it? I wanted this to be a surprise,” Phil said, unable to find a way out of his spiral of anxiety.

“Oh dear, I didn’t mean to make it worse, that’s not what I meant. Look, I’m sure he’ll still be surprised. Even if he’s expecting a proposal soon doesn’t mean he’s expecting one on this trip. He probably thinks you’ll be too busy during this trip to plan a proposal, and you’ve hidden everything quite well, so he has no reason to suspect it’s today.”

“Okay, okay that makes me feel a bit better, thanks.”

“Anytime. Do you have any idea when the wedding will be?”

“Erm, we were thinking maybe late next year or early 2020? I think it’d be really nice if it could be on October 19th, our ten year anniversary, but whether that can happen or not depends on everyone’s schedules and whatever venue we pick.”

“Aw that’s such a sweet idea, I think that’d be nice too, hopefully that works out,” she glanced up in the distance, “Are you ready? We’re almost at the top of the hill.”

Phil filled his lungs with air and let it out in a controlled sigh, “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

As they walked up towards the peak, it began to snow lightly. Tiny snowflakes dusted Dan’s curls and settled Phil’s lashes. They fell slowly from the clouds above, occasionally catching the sunlight just so, making it seem like hundreds of tiny gems filled the air. Phil thanked whatever weather gods there were for this. The snow was just enough for a perfect winter scene but not too much so that it was difficult to see or walk through. They reached the top soon after it started snowing and took a few minutes to soak it all in. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance and the intermittent chirping of birds were the only things that broke the serene silence. The hills were bathed in soft, mid-morning light, and the colors of the foliage were washed out from the winter as if in a dream. Dan was stood on a small ledge on the hill, far enough from the edge so as to not fall off. Phil walked up behind him and placed his head on Dan’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dan sighed contentedly, “What if we move somewhere like this in the future?”

“What? I thought you loved London.”

“No, I do, I don’t mean soon. I mean when we’re old and grey and retired, what if we move somewhere away from the bustle of the city to somewhere like this, where it’s quiet outside and we can see the ocean from our window?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that at all,” Phil murmured into Dan’s shoulder. They stayed like that, staring into the ocean, thinking about their futures with each other for a moment until Phil spoke, “I think I saw a rabbit over there, I’m going to go befriend it.”

“It’d be so on brand if you got bitten by it and we all have to stop our peaceful walk to take you to A&E.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get bitten,” Phil giggled as he pulled his arms away from Dan and headed away from the ledge.

That was Martyn and Cornelia’s cue to walk up to Dan and admire the ocean with him. “What was the merch stuff you guys had to deal with yesterday?” Dan asked Martyn.

“Um, we were just trying to figure out how to get the sock orders delivered by New Year’s; the manufacturer was running a bit late, so we were making sure that everything would be back on track soon.”

“Oh okay, gotchu.”

“Congrats on the tour, by the way,” Cornelia piped up, “I don’t think I congratulated you individually in person about it yet.”

“Oh, thank you so much. Me and Phil are so happy with how it all turned out, but we’re dead tired now, so January is going to be a month of rest for us.”

“How are the fans taking the news about the hiatus?”

“They’re mildly upset, but most of them are being so lovely and respectful and understand that we need time to rest and think about what to do next. There’s a lot of theories going around though.”

“Oh?” Cornelia prompted Dan for elaboration.

“From what I’ve seen, some people think we’re moving soon or getting married. And I mean, they’re kinda right, but they’re off about the timeline. We’re not moving next year, and the hiatus isn’t for a wedding. I mean, unless for some reason one of us proposes like in the next week and we somehow plan a wedding in a month,” Dan laughed at the prospect, “But that’s not happening because I know Phil wants a fancy ceremony, and that’ll take at least several months to plan.”

“Have you guys talked about which one of you is proposing?” Martyn asked, feigning ignorance.

“No not really, we’ve just both said we’re fine either way. We don’t feel that strongly about who does it. Although, I do have a small hunch that maybe Phil is planning to propose on Valentine’s day, and I’m not sure if I should beat him to it and propose on his birthday.”

Cornelia scrolls through her phone absentmindedly, “What if one of you proposes and the other also has the ring they were going to propose with with them? Like that video I shared on Facebook the other day.”

“That could happen totally by accident; I wouldn’t put it past us.”

Phil was on the other side of the peak, a hundred paces or so away from Dan, Martyn, and Cornelia with his parents. He handed his dad his phone with the camera application open to the video setting, “Okay, so when I give you the thumbs up, just press that red button and it’ll start recording.” He handed his mum a Canon camera, one that they sometimes brought to events when they needed pictures or videos of a higher quality than the iPhone, “Just keep taking pictures throughout the whole thing, and make sure you get the important moments, and—oh, what am I saying, you’ve been taking pictures of mine and Martyn’s milestones since we were kids; you know how to do this.”

Kathryn chuckled in response, “You’re a bit nervous aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I know it’ll go okay, but I want this to be perfect.”

“Don’t worry Phil, it will be. You ready?”

“Yeah,” he pulled both his parents into a hug, “Thanks guys.”

As the three headed back, Phil sent a text to Martyn letting him know that it was almost time; Martyn sent back the thumbs up emoji. When they reached the ledge, they stayed as quiet as possible so as to not alert Dan to their presence. Phil knew that without distraction, he would be content to stare into the ocean for ages, contemplating life and possibly spiraling into an existential crisis. Phil’s parents took their positions right behind the ledge, ready to film and take pictures from two different angles. Phil sent a text to Cornelia, then quietly made his way to a spot several feet behind where Dan, Martyn and Cornelia were standing.

Cornelia pointed out a flock of birds that had landed in the trees. A few of them started crying out in what could only be a mating call, “You should call Phil over, I think he’d have a field day trying to imitate them.”

Dan kept his eyes trained on the birds and laughed along with Martyn and Cornelia as he called out Phil’s name, “Phil! Come look!” He assumed Phil was probably nearby enough to hear him if he yelled loud enough. “Phiiiillll!” Still no response. “Phiiii–” Dan turned around to look for him and found Phil in front of him on one knee. Before Dan could even process the situation, Phil started speaking.

“Dan, the first time we met, I was the nervousest person ever, and right now, I think I’m even more nervous than I was that day, so bear with me if I’m not the most eloquent right now.”

Dan laughed. He had just barely processed what was happening, and the tears were already brimming. He had told himself before he wouldn’t cry at his wedding, but if Dan was already devolving into an emotional sap right now, he knew he stood no chance.

“Before I met you, I wasn’t sure if I believed in true love or believed that anything could be forever. I knew I loved my family and my friends and knew I would probably find someone I loved enough to marry and settle down with, but I never thought I would get to experience a grand love story like those people write about in books and movies. And then I met you. I still remember the first time we met, clear as day. When you got off the train at the station and I saw you, I couldn’t help but feel something that felt like coming home. I couldn’t decipher what it meant at the time, but now I know that that was what it feels like to meet the love of your life.”

“Phil, I’m going to start full-on sobbing if you keep going.”

“I love you, but I don’t care right now, I spent forever writing this in my head, so I will keep going,” Phil smiled up at Dan with a smile that Dan would later swear could end wars, “And then we spent a whole day in Manchester, and I think that was one of the best days of my life. I remember when we were on the big wheel, I just kept thinking about how much I liked you and how I hoped you liked me too. Then, you kissed me, and I was gone then and there. I will never have the words to describe it, but it was like I had gone my entire life needing glasses but never wearing them, and you were the clarity missing from my life. That’s when I knew that you were it for me, that you were the one. And I know this all sounds so cheesy, but that’s really how I felt. I am so beyond happy that I get to have you in my life; I truly believe all of my lucky stars aligned for this to happen. So many things make me happy, but spending time with you makes me the happiest; I could just sit and talk with you for the rest of my life, and I’d die the happiest man on Earth. Forever with you is not long enough. I’d spend a million forevers with you if I could. And I love so many things and so many people, but none more than you. I really, truly think that you’re the best person in the world, and I love you more than words can convey. So,” Phil opened the ring box, “Daniel James Howell, will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” Dan whispered through tears, “Yes, yes, yes of course I’ll marry you Phil.” Phil stood to put the ring on Dan, but Dan immediately pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around Phil and knew that he was the luckiest person in the world.

Phil smiled into the kiss as he murmured against Dan’s lips, “I still need to put the ring on you. Plus, my whole family’s watching, we can’t get carried away.”

“Right,” Dan pulled away with a soft laugh and held out his left hand.

Phil slid the ring onto Dan’s fourth finger and breathed a small sigh of relief when it fit perfectly. They could have always gotten it resized if it didn’t fit, but now they could avoid that hassle. Neither of them wore much jewelry, so Phil had had to guess the ring size with the help of the jeweler.

Dan held his hand up to the light, “Oh Phil, it’s perfect, I love it. How did you decide on this one?”

“I mean, I knew you would like the white gold because it fits your minimalist monochrome aesthetic, and of course you would want something glittery and shiny, so what better than rows of diamonds?”

“God, you know me too well.”

“Of course.”

Martyn was the first to wish them congratulations, followed by Cornelia and the rest of the Lesters. Phil’s mum and dad handed him back his phone and camera, assuring him that they got great footage that would make for a lovely engagement video or Instagram post. It was only then that Dan realized they were all in on the surprise, “Wait! Martyn, Cornelia! You guys were just distracting me from them setting up the stuff to film! And when you pointed out the birds, that was to get me to turn around and notice Phil! You guys both knew what was about to happen but you still asked about proposal plans!”

“Well, we had to make sure you were proper surprised when the time came,” Cornelia responded with a laugh, “And you were, should’ve seen your own face when you turned around.”

“Wait, Martyn, you and Phil weren’t talking about merch yesterday then, were you?”

“Nope,” he shook his head.

“My god you guys managed to pull this off so well.”

“They did, didn’t they?” Phil chimed in, “Thanks again so much for helping, guys! Should we take the cliché ring photo for Instagram?”

“Yeah, sure,” Martyn grabbed Phil’s phone that Phil held out to him. Dan held his hand up to show the camera the ring while Phil pulled him into another kiss. Martyn snapped a few photos and handed the phone back to Phil, “They’re Instagram worthy, I promise.”

A couple days later, Phil accompanied Dan to the airport so he could fly back south to visit his own family. They knew they would miss each other dearly, but they both loved spending time with their own families and knew they would both be back in London soon. Then they could start the next chapter of their lives as fiancés.

Phil walked with Dan up to the security checkpoint where they had to say goodbye. Dan pulled him into a hug, not wanting to risk the possibility of someone recognizing them, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Text me when you land, and have fun, and tell your family I said hi.”

“I will, love you, bye.” Dan pulled away and headed towards the security line. Phil waited until Dan disappeared behind the walls separating the checkpoint from the front of the airport before leaving. He already missed him, but it wasn’t like missing him when they were younger. Back then, years ago, missing Dan was a gnawing pain in his ribcage tinged with fear and the uncertainty of when he would get to see him next. But now, Phil knew that this was just the beginning of forever. They would always come back to each other, and he had nothing to worry about.

It was the afternoon of Boxing Day when all the Lesters and Cornelia were sitting by the fireplace, sipping tea and eating yet another batch of fresh cookies Kathryn had baked. Cornelia was scrolling through her phone when she brought something to everyone’s attention, “Phil have you seen Dan’s Instagram post?”

“No not yet,” Phil answered, pulling out his phone and opening the app.

“He cropped out his left hand,” she pointed out, “Do you think he cropped it on purpose or the camera just didn’t get his left hand to begin with?”

“Oh,” Phil laughed, “He definitely did that on purpose; he’s fueling the theories, so everyone will be even more hyped when we announce it. Not that we want a lot of attention for this or anything, but you know Dan, he’s a dramatic theater nerd and would do this just to get everyone excited.”

“Have you boys talked about wedding plans yet?” Kathryn asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah, actually we accidentally stayed up until nearly 4am the night after I proposed just talking about what we want to do for the wedding.”

“So what are the ideas you two have?” Martyn asked.

“We’re not quite sure yet; we’re still deciding, but whatever it is, I know it will be perfect.”

And Phil really did believe that it would be perfect. Even if they weren’t able to have the wedding on October 19th, or if they weren’t able to get the perfect venue or perfect caterer, Phil knew it would be perfect because he would be marrying Dan.

#phan #dan and phil #phanfiction #youtube #phanfic #phan fluff #dilhowltersquad #phansupportsquad #cactuslesterfics #mine #org

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