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#he's got long hair and big brown eyes. he loves cats. he's a massive nerd. he cooks. he's got a way with words. i need him so bad
perilegs · 8 months
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gale when you let him talk about chess
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monstersandmaw · 4 years
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Embers - male dragon shifter x reader) Part Two (sfw)
(this is supposed to be going up every Friday, but I was a dumbo yesterday and forgot, so here it is, a day late and with my apologies!)
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Here's Chapter Two for you, in which we find out our dragon shifter’s name (pronunciation at the end if you’re curious). And Frankie speaks with a heavy Welsh accent.
I was trying to keep each chapter to under 1000 words, but that didn't work out so well for this one. It's nearly 2000 words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!
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A phone call from a number you didn’t recognise interrupted your quiet Friday evening, and you answered with some trepidation. Usually it was marketing calls at this hour, and nothing was guaranteed to make you lose your shit quicker than someone phoning up to sell you double glazing or, even worse, to try and scam you out of your life savings.
This time, however, a bright and bubbly voice with a lilting accent asked, “Hiya, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, but you gave my friend your number in the hopes of finding a flute teacher?”
“Oh my god!” you blurted, nearly dropping the phone. “Yes! I didn’t think he’d actually pass it on. Thanks for calling.”
The laugh that trilled out of the person on the other end was more like a bleating giggle, and it was then that you remembered that the teacher was a faun. “No problem! My name is Frankie, by the way, and I’ve actually got space to take on a new pupil at the moment. If I got it straight it’s your niece?”
“Yeah, she’s six.”
“Ok, if you could maybe tell me a bit about her and what level she’s at, that might help me plan a bit, but we could set up a trial lesson - free of charge - and go from there?”
“Perfect. As for her level, she’s brand new. She’s wanted to play the flute for a long time, but she’s only six and my brother couldn’t really afford lessons until now.” As a single father, a widower, your brother did his absolute best for his little girl, and with no kids of your own, you stepped in to help quite a lot. “She’s bright and a quick learner, though she’s not particularly verbal. She’s always been drawn to music though; I think it’s a half-siren thing…”
“Yeah, that’ll be it!” he chuckled. “As long as she’s going to listen to me, that’s a good place to start from; I don’t need her to recite the Trollbridge Common Dictionary as well. I teach up at Mikaeïl’s house - he lets me use the music room free of charge.”
You frowned in confusion. “Mikaeïl?”
“The red-headed, starched-shirt-wearing, giant nerd-bag you met in the coffee shop,” he grinned and you snorted your tea nearly out of your nose.
“Oh my god.”
“Right? I mean, Kaeïl is an absolute marshmallow on the inside, I promise, but he comes across as a complete arsehole, doesn’t he? Anyway, back to the flute lessons. You let me know some dates when she’ll be free to come over, I’ll give you the address, and we can see how we get along. Texting is better for me as I’m usually teaching during the day.”
“Sounds good,” you said, and began to arrange the rest with Frankie.
Afterwards you did a quick internet search and found him easily enough. He was apparently well known, both as a teacher and a soloist, and he and the quintet did a number of local concerts too. You couldn’t resist zooming in on a few photos which also had Mikaeïl in. God, he had amazing bone structure, but he definitely had one severe case of resting bitch-face for sure. He wasn’t smiling in any of the photos and he looked severe, and untouchable as a hot coal.
Satisfied that Frankie was the genuine article, you called your brother and fixed a date to take her to the address Frankie had given you.
The next Friday, you picked Celia up from school while her dad took the night shift at work. The hours weren’t great, but it meant he got slightly better pay. Plus it meant that you got to have Celia for the night, and that was always fun. She was intelligent and creative, if quiet, and after dinner the two of you usually watched a film together or read if she didn’t feel like watching anything. You knew she missed her siren mother dearly, and her death had almost destroyed your brother. You and he were all the family she had now; her own grandparents had wanted nothing to do with a half-breed human.
You found Mikaeïl’s place easily enough, and as the enormous gates swung open for you, drove your rather shoddy car along the mile-long gravel driveway through gorgeous parkland and up to a frankly ridiculous mansion on the outskirts of Old Trollbridge. You barely restrained yourself from cursing out loud. The place was insanely beautiful.
Celia had her hands pressed up against the car windows, mouth open. “My teacher lives here?” she asked.
“It’s the house of his friend,” you said, trying to sound unfazed and unaffected by the grandeur. Mikaeïl must be a very wealthy person indeed.
You parked up outside and Celia hopped out, piercing eyes gazing up at the warm, sandstone facade of the building with its many sash windows and ornate architectural details. Her dusky brown wings - small for a siren her age, but then again she was only half-siren - were flexed slightly, as though she planned on flapping up to get a closer look at the carvings above the door, but you took her hand before the thought got any further, and led her to the front door, her brand new flute in your other hand.
It took a while for someone to come to the door, but when it was answered, you were surprised to find that it wasn’t some servant or butler in fancy livery, but it was Mikaeïl himself. You recognised him instantly, and he looked at you from behind his circular, gold-rimmed glasses with the same, piercing gold eyes. Despite the colour, they were cold and unsmiling. Beside him, in complete contrast in every way, stood a very short, slightly stocky figure with the white, woolly lower half of a satyr. He wore a thick, dark green, knitted jumper despite the warmth of the day, and he had massively thick, curling horns that coiled around his ovine ears. His curly hair was cut relatively short, and matched his white legs in colour.
He extended a hand to you as Mikaeïl stepped back silently and disappeared into the shadows, and he bleated, “Hi! I’m Frankie. And you must be Celia,” he added, turning his dark eyes to her. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?”
She nodded shyly, and you ushered her inside in front of you. Frankie’s big cloven hooves clopped loudly on the marble entrance hall, and Celia gasped as she took in the beautiful, sweeping staircase that curled up the cylindrical walls of the drum-like entrance hall that was capped with a coffered dome.
“It’s quite something, isn't it?” Frankie said conspiratorially to her, and she nodded again. “Come on, let me show you guys the music room. It’s got the loveliest piano. This way.”
Mikaeïl had all but vanished.
Nattering constantly, Frankie led you away down a light, airy corridor with gold and cream silk wall hangings and 18th century landscape paintings on one side and a gallery of windows overlooking the gravel driveway on the other, and into an equally beautiful space. Somehow, despite the obvious wealth, the music room was tasteful and bizarrely modest. Yes, that was an original Steinway, and yes, there was a crystal chandelier - relatively small, but still - in the centre of the moulded-plaster ceiling, but the huge windows looked out onto a private terrace and parkland beyond, and it had the feeling of a well-used, well-loved, functional room.
Celia was utterly entranced. Her wide eyes took it all in and you stood there dumbstruck as well.
Eventually, however, you both got over it, and Frankie brought over a very ordinary, metal music stand and parked his behind on the piano stool with a grunt. “Right,” he grinned and she giggled slightly. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He pulled out his own flute from its case and showed her how to align the sections of her own correctly.
You sat at one side of the room, but you realised quickly that Celia kept looking over to you before she spoke, so you said, “Celia, I think you might learn better if I wait outside. How would that be?”
She nodded and you knew her well enough to see that she wasn’t worried, and Frankie shot you a smile and a nod. “We’ll be about another half an hour,” he said quietly.
With that, you left, and wandered up the corridor and back into the entrance hall.
You took your time in the corridor, admiring the paintings, and you were just looking up at the ceiling of the entrance hall again, marvelling at the artistry of the whole thing, when someone cleared their throat pointedly from the doorway to your left and you jumped.
“Can I help you?”
It was Mikaeïl. He was dressed in a smart shirt, with a black waistcoat and black trousers today, and his long red hair was tied back in a smooth ponytail that fell halfway down his back. His horns glinted in the low light, looking more like strangely-carved precious gems, flecked with gold, than keratin, and his eyes reflected oddly, like cat’s eyes in the dark.
“I…” you faltered. “I thought it best if I left them to it…” you said stupidly. He seemed to have the effect of draining your IQ to zero with just one look.
“So you took the liberty of roaming the halls of my home instead?” he said in a cold drawl.
“I… I’m not poking around,” you countered hotly, finding your words coming back to you. “I’ve only walked along the corridor!”
A tiny smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Would you like something to drink?”
His polite question caught you off guard, and you gave him a blank look. “I thought you were going to have your gamekeeper shoot me for trespassing…” you said dryly.
Mikaeïl barked a harsh but amused laugh, the rigid lines of his body softening just a fraction. “Not yet at least,” he said and turned his back on you.
Assuming you were meant to follow, you did. 
Part Three
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It’s pronounced ‘mick-eye-ill’ :)
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phantasticworks · 5 years
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Terminal
I’ve been awol for a while because I’ve been working all summer and I’ve recently moved back to school and life has been busy but I’ve actually been working on this for four months (between my episodes of writers block and working on my other wip) but I am finally back with another one shot! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!
read on ao3
Words: 20k
Description: Phil finds himself stuck in an airport in Florida when a nasty storm blows in from the coast. His phone is dying and his will to live without it is too. He stumbles across a cute brunette who may be just as dorky as himself, and of course flirting ensues. And maybe this cute stranger has a charger to spare? Really your goal as a reader is to solve the incredible important mystery of whether or not he gets his phone charged (and maybe have a little Phan story along the way)
Warnings: mentions of depression, swearing, smut, the usual
Phil hated airports.
Actually, that’s not entirely factual.
It wasn’t that he hated the airports themselves, although they weren’t anything to write home about, honestly. He was actually just a little annoyed with the delays. Like, how many times can a flight be delayed before it’s just cancelled altogether? Phil didn’t know, and he really didn’t want to find out.
His flight back home to London had already been delayed twice, each time for another hour. He couldn’t tell much from looking outside other than the fact that it looked like it was nearing midnight, although the clock on his phone told him it was barely four in the afternoon. In theory, he knew that this meant the storm was really bad and he should be concerned for his safety, but he didn’t see the point in being too fussed about it, considering he was in a massive building and they weren’t on the coast.
Luckily, his family had flown back the day before. Since he was now a responsible, financially stable adult, he’d bought his own tickets and hotel room. Unfortunately, he had misunderstood the dates that the rest of his family was flying out, and he’d booked everything a day late. Which really hadn’t upset him all that much anyway, since it had been a week-long trip. He was just annoyed about it now that he was having to wait in the stupid airport while his family was already safe and sound back in England. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t upset about the part where his family was safe; obviously he was glad they’d gotten home fine, but he was just irritated at the inconvenience of waiting.
He’d gotten bored sitting in the boarding area of his flight, so he’d been wandering the airport, staying close enough to check to flight board every now and then as he popped into the different shops throughout the massive building. He’d stumbled into a little airport café at some point, and after ordering a caramel macchiato he’d settled into a booth close to the front. Bored, he pulls out his phone with the intention of playing flappy bird. After only a few tries, he gets the message that his phone battery is at twenty percent. Wonderful. His charger is wherever his main suitcase is, so he’s out of luck for now.
He sighs, looking out of the window to look at the unideal weather they were stuck in. If someone had told him that his trip to America would be this hard to come back from, he’d never have gone in the first place. Well, that probably wasn’t entirely true either; he loved going to Disney World with his family, and just because he was stuck in the airport due to some sort of hurricane didn’t mean he regretted going on the trip entirely.
Phil tries very hard to keep this in mind ten minutes later when he’s walked out of the café to check the flight board, only to find that his flight has been delayed another three hours. He lets out a long, annoyed breath, apparently startling the man standing next to him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He normally wasn’t such a sour person, even in the face of inconveniences like this. He fully blamed it on the fact that not only was he stuck in the airport, but he didn’t have his phone charger.
“’S fine,” the man responds, his voice causing Phil to take a second look.
He wouldn’t have bothered if he hadn’t heard a familiar accent, but upon realizing this man is also British, Phil can’t help it. He takes a moment to survey the man’s profile, trying his hardest to be casual about it. The man was tall, maybe an inch taller than himself, although it’s hard to tell from the poor posture he possesses. His hair is a deep brown, and so curly that Phil can only marvel at it for a moment. He’s dressed almost entirely in black, aside from the white t-shirt that he’s wearing under the black bomber jacket. It’s a good look on him, Phil thinks, although, he could probably use a little color.
Almost as if his thought has summoned the attention of the stranger, his heard turns, catching Phil staring at him. Too embarrassed to do much of anything, Phil looks down, feeling his face heat up. “Where are you headed?” The man’s voice says softly, breaking the silence.
Glancing up, Phil takes in his dark brown eyes, unsurprised that they match his hair perfectly. “London,” he answers with a nod to the board. “I mean, I’m obviously not headed there for another eighty-four years, or however long it takes the storm to pass,” he attempts a joke, smiling broadly when the brunette laughs.
“Right? I’m going to be collecting social security by the time we get on the damn plane,” the brunette rolls his eyes, bringing a hand up to brush a stray curl back. Phil unashamedly follows the motion, returning his gaze when his hand falls away.
“Definitely,” Phil says, a little awkwardly as he scrambles for something else to say.
Before he even has the chance, the man’s phone begins ringing, and he shoots Phil an apologetic smile as he fishes it out. “Nice meeting you, mate,” he says easily before turning and pacing away, bringing his phone up to his ear as he goes.
Phil tries his hardest not to pout, but he is a little annoyed at this turn of events. He’d wanted to keep talking to the rather attractive stranger, if only for some company with someone who isn’t American. Nothing against Americans, of course; he just felt it was easier to hold a conversation with someone he had more in common with. That and, well he was rather attractive, and Phil definitely wouldn’t have been averse to flirting with him a bit.
Sadly, all of that is now out of the picture, as the brunette turns a corner, disappearing from his sight, probably forever. Phil heaves a deep sigh. Oh well. It’s not like he was seriously looking for anyone, especially not just someone he happened to stumble across at an airport.
Resigning himself for a life devoid of cute British brunette guys who have a sense of humor that matches his own, he finds himself walking away from his terminal yet again, on the lookout for something interesting to occupy his time. When he finds the Disney World merch store, he’s intrigued, but decides not to stop. He’d had his fill of the little cartoon mice this week.
Instead, he finds himself in the Kennedy Space Center shop. It was always amazing to go in and see all the cool space stuff, and he quickly forgot his encounter with the cute stranger as he searched through the various t-shirts on a rack.
That is, until he glances over at another shopper and finds none other than the cute stranger himself. Although he’s a little surprised to see him again, Phil finds himself smiling, casually making his way around the circle of clothes to get a little closer to him. “Fancy seeing you again,” he says casually as he shoots the man a friendly smile.
The brunette’s gaze shoots up at his voice, his lips quirking up into a small smile. “I see you’re a nerd as well, then.” His cheek dips with the indentation of a dimple, and Phil nearly swoons on the spot.
Nodding, he grins. “Oh, absolutely. Space, Pokemon, Buffy, the whole nine yards for sure.” He holds a shirt out and grimaces at it; it’s tacky, with ugly cats in space suits on it.
“Right. You look like the type,” the brunette smiles, leaning his elbow on the rack closest to him and observing Phil as he goes to put the shirt back. “Wait, wait. Can I see that?” His eyes flick from the ugly shirt up to meet Phil’s gaze, and he makes a face but hands it over.
Phil watches with distaste as the other man turns the shirt around, looking at how the cats are shown from the back on the back of the shirt. He’s got this adorable little smile on his face, and Phil can’t help but thinking even though it’s possibly the ugliest shirt he’s ever seen in his life, it would probably look fantastic on him. He considers that it’s probably a strange thing to think of a complete stranger, but that still doesn’t stop him from saying it. “That’ll look cute on you.” He smirks when the other man’s cheeks flood with a light pink color, pleased by this reaction.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, tucking the shirt back in the rack before filtering through it, probably looking for his size. He glances over his shoulder at Phil before smiling sweetly. “I’m Dan. I don’t think I said that earlier.”
Phil smiles back, leaning against the clothes rack. “Phil. Nice to meet you, Dan.”
Dan finally pulls out a shirt and holds it up to his chest, glancing down. It’s by far too big for him, but he just smiles and tucks it under his arm. Phil quirks an eyebrow, and Dan just shrugs. “I think it’ll make a nice sleep shirt.” His cheeks flood with color right after he says this, and Phil smiles at him.
“It looks very comfy,” he agrees, his attention drawn to a shoe display next to him. He turns and begins scanning the shoes there, a certain pair of sneakers catching his eye. He can tell that Dan is still standing close by, but he pretends not to notice as he looks at the cool patches on this shoe, the kind that are Velcro and can be removed and replaced with different ones. He begins looking for his size, smirking when he sees Dan begin looking at a rack of space-themed jewelry on the rack beside him.
“So, you’re not from London, are you?” The brunette finally asks, his eyes studying a necklace that Phil really doesn’t think he’s interested in buying.
He smiles as he stands up straighter, unable to find a size eleven in the shoe he wanted. Which sucked, because they were freaking cool shoes. “What gave it away?” He asks, affecting his voice with his nearly-lost Northern accent.
Dan grins, shrugging. “Some things you say just give it away, mate.”
Phil rolls his eyes at this. “Well, you sound a bit like Christopher Robin yourself, so I don’t think you get to judge.” He smirks when Dan grimaces at this.
“I love Winnie the Pooh, but you can’t just say that,” Dan says, flicking the jewelry rack so it spins around.
“I’m not surprised. You’re quite posh.” Phil is thoroughly enjoying this, but Dan seems only mildly embarrassed, so he’s pretty sure he isn’t actually offended.
“Well…” Dan shrugs before a smirk tugs at his lips. “Is it terrible if I ask you to say “ace” so I can get the full effect of your northern accent?” He asks, his brown eyes dancing with mischief.
Phil pretends to be completely offended, but his laughter ruins the effect. “It is, but you’re cute, so I’ll do it.” Dan blushes at this before Phil speaks again. “Ace,” he says, his voice sounding deeply northern when he does.
Dan barely gives him a minute before he’s giggling hysterically, a dimple carving itself out in his cheek. Phil struggles not to focus on that little indentation, but it’s so endearing he can’t help but smile. “Oh my god,” Dan nearly gasps. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. Ace!” He mocks, this sending him into yet another fit of giggles.
Phil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms at the brunette. “That’s like racist. Or… regionist! Yeah.”
The brunette bites his lip, trying to contain his giggles. “If you say so.” He shrugs then, before glancing over at the shoes Phil had been looking at. “They didn’t have your size?” He guesses, stepping closer to look at the shoe Phil had been looking at.
Sighing, Phil shakes his head. “Sadly no. No one ever does, my feet are too big.” He frowns as he glances over shoe boxes, almost every other size besides an eleven.
Dan smirks, and even though Phil doesn’t really know him, he can tell this is going to be bad. “Well, you know what they say about men with big feet.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and if he hadn’t made it incredibly dorky with that expression, Phil probably would have blushed.
Instead, he bursts into laughter. “I’m sorry, were you trying to be sexy? That was bad. That was so bad.”
Dan’s lips twitch into a frown, and he shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, I was just being factual. I don’t know where your head was, mate.”
Phil smirks at this. “I think you know exactly where my head was,” he suggests, raising an eyebrow.
The brunette glances away from him at this, and Phil’s almost positive he can see a light pink tinge to his cheeks. “Well now who’s being sexy,” he mumbles, stepping over to a different rack of shirts.
Phil steps around him, casually following him without seeming too creepy. “I mean, you are, but thanks for the compliment.” He grins at the way Dan’s eyes widen. Phil was honestly surprised with himself. He almost never flirted, especially not with strangers in an airport. Yet here he was, flirting with this man he barely knew. Scratch that, he didn’t know him, at all. All he knew was his first name, he had a questionable taste in clothing, and an even more questionable taste in humor. But Phil knew he was a sucker for that sort of thing.
Dan seems to fumble at this, and Phil finds it completely endearing. But he finds that ten minutes flirting with this stranger is probably more than enough, and with the intention of not making himself seem like a creepy stalker, he turns to leave. He heavily debates inviting Dan to go eat dinner with him, but he figured that was a bit far, even for him. So instead, he just waves to him. “It’s been nice talking with you, Dan. See you around.”
As he says this, the brunette glances up, looking a little disappointed. “Yeah, see you.” He does a little two-finger salute that Phil thinks is probably the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
Smiling to himself, he leaves the store in search of an airport restaurant that isn’t disgustingly overpriced, a certain brunette occupying his thoughts as he makes his way through the maze of shops and terminals.
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Phil isn’t sure how long he spends at the little Chinese restaurant he’d found, but people-watching everyone around him keeps him occupied for a while. He sips his Coke as he watches the various people milling about, creating stories for each of them in his head. It’s the kind of life he’s stuck with without his phone to keep him occupied. He didn’t want to buy a new charger, as it seemed like almost everything about airport shops were more expensive, but he figured eventually he’d need to.
Eventually he grows tired of his people-watching game and goes instead to find somewhere to hang out at his terminal until his flight boards, or more likely, gets delayed yet again. It was almost completely black outside now, even though it wasn’t that late, and if they were closer to the coast, Phil would’ve been a bit more concerned about how bad the weather seemed to be getting.
He’s looking around at all the occupied chairs at his terminal when he spots a mop of curly brown hair by the window, sitting on the floor due to the lack of available seating. Without thinking about how creepy this will probably make him seem, he makes his way over to Dan. As he gets closer, Phil realizes he’s got an open journal of sorts on his lap, his hand moving quickly across the page as he writes. Phil pauses for a moment, debating whether he should interrupt him, seeing as he looks rather busy.
Almost as soon as the thought has entered his head, Dan suddenly glances up, his warm brown eyes widening slightly as the meet Phil’s gaze. Rather than be disturbed by Phil’s presence, the brunette only smiles, which Phil takes to be an open invitation.
“It’s incredible that we keep bumping into each other,” Phil teases as he steps closer to Dan, their proximity forcing the brunette to tilt his head back to hold his gaze.
“We’re on the same flight, mate. I don’t think there’s a whole lot of mystery there.”
Phil nearly blushes at that, feeling quite daft now that it’s been spoken so bluntly. “Well, yeah,” he stutters out, bringing a hand to the back of his neck rather awkwardly.
Dan smiles at this, nodding to the floor beside him. “You’re welcome to join me if you’re just looking for company,” he says easily, shifting so that Phil has more room to sit.
He hesitates, but another look at Dan’s cute dimpled smile has him sitting down almost immediately, curling his legs up in a criss-cross fashion. Dan looks pleased, but turns back to his journal, writing along a page with quick, messy strokes of his pencil. Phil doesn’t read what he’s writing, but he does glance over and take note of the slightly-below average handwriting that is only barely better than his own.
Too awkward to just sit in comfortable silence like a normal human, Phil shifts so he can look out at the rest of the people in the terminal, sitting properly side by side with Dan. “So… busy airport, huh?” He says nonchalantly, any semblance of normalcy from their earlier conversation leaving him. He wasn’t sure what it was making him feel so nervous; he thought maybe it’s the casual atmosphere of sitting down next to someone rather than talking to them in the middle of a store.
Dan glances up at him, a thin smile on his lips. Phil feels his stomach drop and hopes that Dan isn’t already tired of him being there. The brunette reaches up and pushes one of his curls back, and Phil’s eyes follow the motion. “It is, probably just a lot of holiday travelers. Florida’s a popular place, you know.” He shrugs, his eyes flicking back down to his journal.
Phil nods at this, awkwardly glancing down at his hands as he struggles to come up with a conversation topic. He glances at the notebook again, getting an idea from that. “Are you a writer?” He asks, thinking it an innocent enough question.
Apparently, this assumption is wrong, if Dan’s subtle flinch is anything to go by. “Um, no,” he says, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.
He offers no further explanation, so Phil is left to stare at his profile, his mouth shifting into an awkward ‘O’ shape. Fumbling for anything to repair this awkward conversation and maybe get back to their earlier conversational chemistry, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. “Do you like video games?”
Honestly, someone should just take away his vocal chords now, because that would be less painful than the sting of embarrassment he feels immediately after saying this. He imagines a plane careening into this part of the terminal, just to destroy him so he won’t have to face the undoubtedly annoyed response Dan is likely to have to his weird question. Sadly, well actually maybe not, this doesn’t happen, and he’s left to glance over at Dan after a moment, hoping that he’s not completely weirded out.
The brunette is staring at him with a strange look on his face, but he’s smiling. Phil counts this as a blessing. “I do, actually. I’m a big fan of Guild Wars, but I like a lot of the classics, too. How about you?”
Phil grins after hearing this, nodding. Games were his area. He could talk about video games with a willing listener for hours, if he’s completely honest. “I don’t play a lot of Guild Wars, but I’ve played before. I’ve been into Fortnite a lot recently, but as far as classics, Crash Bandicoot, all the way.”
Something seems to shift in Dan then, going from politely interested to excited all at once. The chocolatey brown of his eyes light up and he shifts around so he’s facing Phil, his journal falling shut. “Yes! That’s literally one of my favorites. None of my friends ever want to play it with me, because they say it’s for kids.” He rolls his eyes at this, as if he’s never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. If Phil didn’t like him before, he definitely did now.
“Right? It’s so hard finding someone to play with. I usually end up playing with myself instead.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment, his smile dropping when he catches sight of the strange look on Dan’s face. He’s biting his lip, holding back laughter. “What?” Phil asks, thinking over his words. His face heats quickly when he realizes what it sounded like he was implying. “Oh my god, that’s not- I don’t, I mean, I do, but- fuck.” He’s a stuttering mess with Dan watching him in amusement, and he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious about it.
Dan bursts into laughter then, clutching at his stomach as he leans over. “Oh my god, Phil. You really just said that.” He takes a moment to catch his breath, sending a charming smile Phil’s way then, as if he hadn’t just been in hysterics over Phil’s unintentional innuendo and everything that followed.
Shrugging, Phil glances down at his hands once more, trying to will his blush away. “Sometimes I say things that I don’t understand, and it’s just… it’s just not a good time,” he admits bashfully, not meeting Dan’s eyes.
The brunette bumps shoulders with him, clearly good-natured enough not to tease him about it too long. “Don’t worry, I think it’s cute,” he informs him, a cheeky smile on his face when Phil’s head darts up to look at him.
Phil rolls his eyes, trying to hide the flipping of his heart in his chest at Dan’s soft gaze and easy smile. “Yeah, well,” he grumbles, stumbling to formulate a cohesive response. “Your mum,” he finishes lamely.
Dan giggles at this, the sound bringing a grin to Phil’s face. “Your mum,” he repeats, shaking his head. “Phil, that’s hardly mature,” he says with mock disappointment.
Keeping up his appearance of a child, Phil sticks his tongue out at him, crossing his arms to add to the effect. “Yeah, well, no one says you have to be mature. I’ve lived long enough I can make my own rules,” he announces, lifting his chin petulantly.
“Yeah? How long have you lived, then?” He asks nonchalantly, sending Phil a smirk.
Phil rolls his eyes at this, shifting around a bit. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of his age; that would be ridiculous. But sometimes saying that he was actually thirty-two was a bit disheartening. “Um, would you believe me if I said twenty-six?” He jokes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Dan was obviously younger than him, probably twenty-three if Phil had to guess, and he seriously didn’t want to scare him off by being way older than him.
The brunette snorts at this. “I might’ve if you hadn’t asked me that. Now I’d just think you’re lying.” He bumps Phil’s arm with his elbow good-naturedly, a dimple carving itself onto his cheek as he smiles.
Tearing his gaze away from the little crescent of cuteness on the other’s skin, Phil looks across the terminal, biting his lip. “Well, if you must know,” he sighs dramatically. “I just turned thirty-two.” He cringes as the words leave his mouth, unintentionally. He can’t help but glance at Dan for his reaction, barely surprised when he sees that his chocolate brown eyes have widened. Phil was right, he never should have told him, he’s disgusted, Phil’s basically a pedophile, and- wait, he’s laughing.
“Phil,” Dan giggles, shaking his head. The ease and familiarity of hearing him say it worries Phil, but he reasons with himself that it’s just due to the fact that he’s heard his name is whole life. It has nothing to do with Dan himself.
“What?” He demands, slightly defensive.
Dan smiles, leaning back against the wall. “You’re acting like you’re really old,” he claims, propping his arm up onto his knee, which he’s pulled closer to his body.
Phil shrugs at this, unable to argue. He was. He felt old, might as well act it, too. “I mean, not all of us can be twenty-three and spritely, Daniel.” He softens the sharpness in his tone with a small smile.
The brunette looks dumbstruck, his eyebrow arching up in surprise. “I’m twenty-seven, twenty-eight in June, mate.” He looks a little uncomfortable saying this, but Phil’s not entirely sure why.
“Really?” When Dan nods hesitantly, Phil shakes his head slowly. “You really look younger. And I mean that as a compliment, I promise.”
Dan laughs at this, rolling his eyes up to look at the ceiling. “Well I would sure hope you could come up with better insults,” he teases.
Phil shrugs, looking to the side. “I’m not very good at trash talk, actually.” He considers this for a moment before adding, “I do get a little vicious during Mario Kart, though.”
“I’d love to see that, actually. Are you a sore loser, too?” Dan shifts so that his shoulder is leaning against the wall and he’s more fully facing Phil. Phil likes this, because he feels like he has his full attention. Something about that pleases him.
“I mean, I don’t think so, but some liars say that I am.” He’s definitely thinking back on his friends who frequently game with him, and they definitely think he’s a sore loser. And maybe he is, but still. Dan doesn’t have to know this.
Dan grins, his dimple taking Phil’s attention immediately. “I think you definitely are,” he says decidedly, nodding along as if he’s got Phil all sorted out.
Phil raises an eyebrow to this. “I guess one day we’ll just have to put that to the test, Daniel.” He’s only half-joking. If they’re both living in London, it actually makes plenty of sense for them to get together sometimes and hangout, since they seemed to have a lot in common.
The brunette’s cheeks fill with a soft pink color, and Phil bites back a grin as he turns away, nodding quickly. “Definitely,” he agrees quietly.
There’s a pause while Phil debates the morals of asking this near-stranger out right now. He considers the fact that they’re stuck in this airport for the foreseeable future, with nothing to do, and seemingly very similar interests. Taking a shot in the dark, he knocks his knee against Dan’s. “Let’s get coffee,” he suggests, cringing when it comes out sounding like a statement.
The shock on Dan’s face is almost comical, but it honestly just makes Phil a little nervous, wondering what kind of shock this is. He hopes the good kind. “Like… when we get back to London? Or- now? Like right now?” He stutters, his hand rubbing along his knee in sort of an anxious fashion.
Phil immediately feels guilty for putting him in an uncomfortable position, and he’s quick to try and remedy it. “We don’t have to, obviously. But, um… yeah, I meant now, if you want. Or back in London. Or now and back in London, preferably. You know, if you want.” He’s tripping over his words and his cheeks are burning in embarrassment, but Dan has a soft smile on his face as he watches Phil fumble for the right thing to say.
“Okay,” the brunette says easily.
A little surprised at how easy that was, Phil purses his lips. “Oh. Well. Right.” He’s frantically trying to remember where the café he’d been at earlier was, but quickly realizes there’s a coffee shop down the corridor from their terminal. Turning to face Dan, he rolls his shoulders back confidently. “Meet me at the coffee shop down the hall in ten minutes?” He requests.
Dan’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, and he glances over to where the sign of the shop could just barely be made out from where they’re seated. “What? Why can’t we just walk together?” He inquires, looking baffled.
Phil grins, moving to stand. He ignores the slight ache from sitting on the hard ground for so long, instead paying attention to the way Dan’s eyes slowly drag up his long legs and up to his face. He smirks when Dan flushes and looks away adorably. “We have to meet there, you goose. Otherwise it doesn’t count as a date.”
“A date?” Dan squawks. Phil smiles at the blossoming pink on his cheekbones, secretly very pleased with this reaction.
“Sure,” Phil says with a shrug. “I mean, who knows when the flight will actually be rescheduled, why not go on a coffee date while we’re here?”
Something shifts in Dan’s face then, as if he’s just realized something, and his eyes flicker to the ground. Phil barely catches the downward curve of his lips into a small frown before the expression is gone and Dan is glancing back up at him with a half-smile. “Sure. See you there, then.”
Phil nods a little slowly, suddenly uncertain if this is even something Dan wants. What if he’d read the signs wrong and Dan isn’t interested in him at all? Before he has time to panic, he sends him a smile before turning to make his way to the coffee shop, determined not to let himself ruin this before it’s even begun.
Ten minutes later, Phil is standing just on the inside of the little coffee shop when Dan walks in, looking a little awkward as he brushes a hand through his curls. He gives Phil an awkward smile when he sees him, walking to stand beside him. “Hi,” he says quietly.
Phil grins at him. “I’m so glad you could make it, Dan! It’s been too long!”
Dan gives him a strange look. “It’s… It’s been ten minutes, just like you asked.” He sounds adorably confused now.
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Phil leans closer to stage-whisper. “I’m just playing into the typical date-script. People always say stuff like that when they’re on a date with someone, you know.”
Crinkling his nose at this, Dan shifts back on his heels. “Well, yeah. I’ve been on dates before, mate. I know how they work.” He almost sounds bitter as he says this, and Phil wonders if he’s seriously annoyed with him. Before he can spiral too much, though, Dan shoots him a smile. “But I guess I’ll let it slide- if you’re buying.”
Phil gapes at his cheeky grin, but quickly recovers. He nods with a laugh, gesturing to the counter. “Of course. It’d be a shit date if I wasn’t a gentleman who paid.”
Dan glances over at him as they step up to the counter, shrugging. “Bit heteronormative, if you ask me.”
Phil shrugs as well, glancing over the menu as he responds. “Not really. I think if you ask someone out, you’re implying you’ll pay. If you’d invited me, I’d be pretending I didn’t have my wallet right now,” he teases.
“Yeah?” Dan responds, quirking an eyebrow.
Grinning, Phil bumps his shoulder against Dan’s. “Course not. I’m not that much of a prick. But, assuming you want to go on another coffee date when we get back to London… I’ll be paying then, too, since I asked.”
Dan frowns at this, but it’s their turn to order and he can’t respond when the barista asks them to go ahead and place their order.
A few minutes later and they’re sitting down at a small table close to the front of the shop, each of them with a caramel macchiato. They both laugh a little when they realize they’ve ordered the same drink, and Phil thinks it’s incredibly endearing when Dan begins nervously fiddling with his hair as they settle at the table they’ve chosen.
“Your hair looks cute, you know,” he comments after they’ve sat sipping on their drinks for a few moments.
Dan glances up immediately, a surprised look on his face. “Oh, um, I-“ he stumbles over his words, glancing away from Phil and continuing to run a hand through his hair.
Phil smiles at this and leans closer. “Are you nervous?” He whispers loudly.
“No,” Dan says adamantly, ducking his head. Phil can just tell that this is a lie, and he hesitates for barely a minute before pressing his foot against Dan’s under the table.
“It’s fine, if you are. I’m nervous too.”
“Right,” Dan snorts, glancing up at him with a roll of his eyes. “I’m sure you’re just shaking like a leaf.”
Phil is a little taken aback by the bitter tone in Dan’s voice, but he brushes it away. “I am nervous,” he shrugs. “I don’t go out very much, and I definitely don’t go out with cute guys very much.”
Dan looks down at the table once more, tracing the grain of the table with his fingernail. “Really?” He asks quietly.
Smiling softly at the man in front of him, Phil brushes his foot with his own yet again. “Yes, really.”
They’re quiet for a few minutes before Dan lets out a quiet groan and sits back in his seat. Phil watches him with raised eyebrows, a little concerned that he might have changed his mind about going out for coffee. He’s surprised when Dan speaks next. “This would be so much easier if you weren’t fit,” he mumbles, trying to wash the words down with his coffee.
Phil gapes at him for a moment before his lips curl into a smirk. “Yeah?” he says teasingly.
Dan rolls his eyes at this. “Shut up,” he rolls his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Wanna play desert island?” He asks, shifting the conversation completely.
“Sure,” Phil says easily, going along with whatever whim it seems that Dan has had.
So that’s what they do for the next hour or so. They take turns sharing their top five movies, books, tv shows, and even dive into music. Only a few minutes into the music topic, however, Phil realizes that Dan is much more of a music enthusiast than himself and he quickly concedes that whole conversation. Honestly, it was entertaining to see Dan seem to get so worked up over something so objectively simple, but Phil still wanted to learn so much more about him. He made a mental note that if they did continue this when they got back to London, he’d devote an entire afternoon to Dan’s musical musings.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a charger, would you?” Phil says at some point, realizing his battery has drained to seven percent since they started talking.
Dan smiles and nods, fishing around in his bag for what Phil assumes is a charger. He hands it over with a triumphant grin, which Phil copies. “Here you go.”
“You’re an actual lifesaver, Dan.”
The brunette smiles at this. “Just don’t lose it. You seem like the kind of guy who loses things a lot.” He has a knowing sort of look to him, as if he really does know this.
“I do not!” Phil protests. It’s not entirely a lie. He does lose things, but not like, all the time.
Dan quirks an eyebrow. “Where’s your charger?” When Phil goes quiet, Dan smirks, shaking his head in amusement. “And there lies my point,” he laughs.
Phil juts his lip out in a pout, feigning offence. “Well, I assume it’s wherever the rest of the luggage is. But I most definitely did not lose it.” He sends up a silent prayer that it’s still in his suitcase where he left it. Wouldn’t it be ironic if he opened his suitcase later only to find that his charger was gone?
“Sure, bub. Whatever you say,” Dan drawls.
Phil rolls his eyes but tucks the charger into the port and plugs his phone in. “Well now you can’t escape for a while, because I’ve got your charger,” he says smugly, hoping that Dan takes this to be casually flirtatious instead of too forward.
Dan shrugs. “It’s my spare.” Phil’s face probably noticeably falls upon hearing this, and Dan’s face shifts into one of panic. “Oh, I didn’t mean- like, I don’t want to, um… I didn’t mean I was going to leave. I just… I carry two chargers,” he explains hurriedly, looking a little embarrassed by the end of his rant.
Phil takes a moment to just smile at the brunette before he bothers responding. “Honestly, I’m just impressed that you’re smart enough to carry two chargers,” he says, hiding his smile behind a sip of his drink.
A fleeting look of amusement crosses Dan’s face before he seems to register what Phil has said. “Wait, does that mean you don’t think I’m very smart? That’s pretty damn offensive, Phil.”
“I never said that!” Phil protests.
“Yes, but you did sort of imply it.”
“I’ll imply your mum,” Phil shoots back, biting his lip when he realizes how childish that was.
Dan barely blinks before he begins giggling. “Oh my god,” he gasps through the laughter. “You’re like, a proper nerd, aren’t you?” He asks, sounding nothing short of fond.
Phil shrugs, feeling his cheeks heating at the question.
Seeming to catch onto Phil’s slight embarrassment, Dan presses his foot against Phil’s, smiling gently when their eyes meet. “I’m proper into nerds, so don’t worry about it.”
“Glad we’re on the same page, then,” Phil smiles.
---
“So, let me get this straight,” Dan says through a gasp as he struggles to contain his laughter. Phil is flushed with embarrassment with Dan’s reaction to the story he’d told him, but all things considered, it was warranted. “You mean to tell me you broke your hand by doing a piggy-back race with someone shorter than you?”
Phil shrugs, and pretends to be very intrigued by the cup in front of him. “Yeah… that’s about it, yeah.”
Dan shakes his head, a fond look on his face. “Phil Lester, man of many talents.”
“Oh, come off it, I bet you did stupid things in uni as well, don’t try to lie.” He intends this to be teasing and completely harmless, so he’s surprised when Dan’s face morphs into a grimace, his gaze dropping to the mug in front of him.
“Yeah, like drop out,” he mutters bitterly.
Phil isn’t positive what to make of this, but he stutters out an apology for bringing it up. “I’m sorry, Dan, I didn’t mean to-“
Dan cuts him off with a sigh and a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s fine. Not like I go around advertising it. You didn’t know.” He shoots Phil a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Feeling a little guilty and also a little embarrassed for bringing up something that was clearly a sore subject, Phil blurts the first thing he thinks of. “It isn’t for everyone, you know.” At Dan’s confused stare, he continues, stumbling over his words awkwardly. “University. Not everyone enjoys it, and not everyone needs it. Hell, I have two degrees and I don’t really use either of them.”
Dan tilts his head at this but seems a little less reproachful of the topic than he did before. “Yeah?” he prompts.
Phil nods. “English Linguistics and Video Post-Production. Yet I work at a publishing company instead.”
At this, Dan’s eyes light up. “You work at a publishing company?” His voice is pitched up an octave, clearly excited about this new information.
“Yeah,” Phil shrugs, feeling a little awkward now. “I’m not like, a top-tier editor or anything. I do edit, but I’m not like, great at it. It’s really just a job for me.”
Dan nods in understanding before drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and looking out towards the corridor. “What company?” He asks timidly.
Phil rattles off the name and Dan only nods. It goes quiet for a moment, and Phil is struggling to hold himself back from asking, once again, if Dan was a writer. Sure, he’d said no earlier, but maybe now that they know each other a little more Dan will feel like sharing something like that? And it wasn’t like Phil was some sort of recruiter, although he’d probably be in his boss’ good graces if he did find a promising new young writer.
It feels too personal too ask, considering Dan’s earlier response, so he decides to just leave it alone. For now.
Before he can go as far as asking anymore questions, a pleasant tune is played over the airport intercom system and a feeling of nervousness settles in Phil’s stomach. He hoped they’d finally have an answer about the flight rescheduling.
“Good afternoon, Orlando International Airport travelers. Due to inclement and dangerous weather, all international flights have been cancelled until further notice. If you would, please see the flight attendant at your gate for information about flight rescheduling. We apologize for the inconvenience and wish you safe travels!”
“Well, fuck,” Dan says, eloquent as ever.
Phil bites his lip to stifle a surprised laugh at his bluntness, but nods. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Did you have anything you needed to rush back to London for?”
Dan rolls his eyes with a smile. “Oh, yes. I definitely needed to rush back to my empty flat and my existential crises. I’ve been missing that something terrible.”
“Oh,” Phil lets out, a little uncertain if he’s kidding or not. There’s an edge to his tone like he might not be, and Phil isn’t entirely sure how to interpret that.
“Kidding, mate.” Dan reaches across the table and lightly brushes his fingertips against Phil’s wrist. “I do need to go pick up some antidepressants, but I think that can probably wait until I can safely cross the Atlantic.”
Phil frowns a little at this, pushing his empty cup around on the table. “Do you have enough with you? Like, the antidepressants?” He asks quietly. This definitely feels like crossing a line of casual friendship with a near-stranger, but Dan’s the one who brought it up, so surely, it’s safe territory.
Dan has a soft smile on his face as he looks up at Phil, and Phil can just feel his heart melting at the sight of the dimple on his cheek. “I do. Thank you for asking.”
Relieved that Dan didn’t seem to feel like this was too personal a topic, Phil nods before glancing down at his cup again. It’s quiet for a few minutes before Phil realizes they’ve been sat there for probably over two hours. He needed to call his parents and tell them what happened, and Dan probably didn’t want to spend all of his time with a stranger.
“I should probably go. Gotta call my mum and let her know I haven’t died yet or anything. And I should probably let you get back to your writing.” Phil doesn’t want to leave but he just doesn’t feel that he should stay, either.
Dan nods quickly, but Phil is almost positive that he sees a look of sadness wash over his face before it disappears. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Well, I guess, um… I’ll see you later?”
Phil smiles at how awkward this seems to be for Dan. He hands him his charger back and then unlocks his own phone, pulling up a space for a new contact and handing it back to him. “Here. So I can get in touch with you when we get back to London.”
The small smile that works its way onto Dan’s lips is gorgeous, and Phil finds himself staring at his lips like an absolute creep while Dan types in his information. “I texted myself, so I’d have your number, too.” Dan tells him when he hands the phone back.
Glancing down at the screen, Phil finds this to be true. After typing in his information, Dan had sent himself a message, which was only an emoji spoon beside a boy with brown hair.
“Is this your way of saying you want to spoon me?” Phil teases him.
Dan flushes, shaking his head. “No! I mean, not that I wouldn’t- that’s not what-“
Phil cuts him off with a giggle. “It’s fine, Dan. I’m only teasing.” He stands from the table then, and Dan follows suit. “I’ll see you later, Dan. Have fun writing.”
Before he can lose his nerve, Phil steps just a bit closer, almost as if he’s going to step past Dan entirely, and then he presses his lips to Dan’s cheek softly. When he pulls away, he catches the surprised look on Dan’s face, but it’s replaced by a smile as Phil turns to walk away. “Bye, Phil.”
And Phil hadn’t had a whole lot of great first dates, but he already knew that he would be impatiently waiting for their second.
---
Phil calls his mum after he and Dan part ways and lets her know about his flight being cancelled, and while she’s worried initially, she’s relieved that he’s safe and will be coming home as soon as the weather clears up. He listens to her worrying and her concerns for a respectable amount of time before telling her he should probably go to save his battery percentage. This starts another lecture on forgetting his phone charger in his luggage, which he reluctantly listens to for nearly a half hour.
Eventually, though, he makes his way back to his terminal and spots Dan sitting beside the big windows that outlook the blacktop, just like before, and he quickly comes up with another excuse to get off the phone with his mum. He loved Kath, he really did. But right now, he wanted to go talk to his cute new friend, and he couldn’t exactly do that while on the phone.
Deciding that he’s pretty much become the creepy stranger who just invites themselves into conversations anyway, he makes his way over and plops himself onto the floor across from the brunette.
Dan glances up almost immediately after Phil sits, jumping a bit. A smile takes over his surprised expression, but Phil feels a little guilty for startling him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he says awkwardly, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck.
“’S fine.” Dan smiles at him and closes the journal in his lap. This makes Phil feel a little guiltier, because he feels like he’s interrupted something.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Do you want me to go so you can write? I completely didn’t think of that before just inviting myself over. I can go-“ Phil is halfway to standing before Dan reaches a hand out to stop him.
“No, you’re fine! I promise. I, um… I could use the company, actually.” He bites his lip after saying this and shifts his eyes to the floor as if he’s embarrassed.
Phil smiles at this, missing Dan’s touch as soon as he pulls his hand away from his arm. “That two hours didn’t ruin your opinion of me?” He inquires with a laugh.
Dan rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his lips twitching into a smile. “No, surprisingly not. I mean, I think you’re a little odd, sure, but I think I can tolerate a little odd.”
“Oh, so you’re only tolerating me?” He can’t help but tease him.
“Would you prefer I did something else?” Dan smirks, his eyes gleaming in a way that makes Phil feel hot.
Phil isn’t entirely surprised by this bold almost-flirting that Dan’s doing. He did a lot of that over coffee earlier too. Even still, it takes him a moment to form a proper response to the blatant flirtation. “I guess it depends on what you’re offering?” He cringes as it comes out more like a question, but Dan seems unbothered, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip.
Shrugging casually, Dan leans back against the window, allowing his head to be propped up by the glass. “I think there’s a few too many people here for you to receive anything on the menu for now,” Dan’s lips pull up into a smirk, and Phil is almost positive that this man is going to be the death of him.
“Oh,” he croaks out, glancing around at the other weary passengers milling about the terminal. “That’s a damn shame,” Phil mumbles, glancing down at his hands with what is probably a blush on his cheeks.
“Mhm,” Dan hums. There’s a silence that wraps around them, but before it has the chance to feel suffocating, Dan is speaking again. “Have you talked to the flight attendants about getting a new flight?”
Phil drops his gaze to his hands again as he shakes his head, feeling embarrassed. Honestly, it had slipped his mind, but even if it hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have done it yet. He hated talking to people about things like that, which was probably a little odd, considering his willingness to flirt with a stranger in an airport.
“I, uh… I don’t do so well with things like that, so no. I’m working up to it, though.” The admission has him cringing at himself, and he really hopes that it doesn’t ruin Dan’s opinion of him so soon.
Instead of laughing, which is what Phil expected, Dan reaches over and brushes his knuckles over Phil’s hand. “Do you want me to go with you to ask?” He asks sweetly, a gentle smile on his face when Phil finally raises his gaze to look at him.
Bless him, honestly, for being such a sweetheart. Phil nods, smiling sheepishly. “Um, I’d appreciate that, yeah.”
Dan smiles at him before tucking his journal into his backpack and standing, holding a hand out to help Phil up. Phil takes it with a smile, more than pleased by the contact, and even more pleased when Dan doesn’t pull away even after Phil is already standing. Instead, he leads Phil over to the attendant’s counter with their hands still intertwined, quietly commenting on the fact that the only attendant there looked a bit like Shakira.
“Hi, we’re on the flight to London, and we were wondering when we could get that rescheduled?” Dan takes the lead the moment they stop in front of the attendant, a charming smile on his face. Phil stays silent, his nerves making it hard for him to hold eye contact with the employee stood in front of them, who gives them a surveying look.
“Of course,” She says slowly, turning to her computer with an almost bored look on her face. Dan shoots Phil a look, pursing his lips as if he’s noticed how rude the lady is as well. “So, our earliest open flights to London aren’t until Monday morning, nine am,” she announces, glancing over at them with a plastered-on smile that Phil can tell is fake.
Dan gapes at her, and although it takes Phil a moment, he realizes that today is Saturday. Meaning they could be stuck in this airport for two nights. “You’re joking,” Dan deadpans, his voice full of disbelief. His hand slips out of Phil’s suddenly, instead clasping his other on top of the counter. His eyes narrow at the attendant, and Phil shifts awkwardly behind him. “It’s Saturday evening, ma’am. And you’re saying we’ll be stuck in this airport for two nights?”
His voice is growing louder, and Phil glances around at the other travelers, some of them giving them strange glances. Phil shifts on his feet, feeling incredibly awkward and out of place with the scene Dan’s causing. “Dan…” He warns quietly, reaching for his elbow.
“Well, you can still leave the airport and go to a hotel,” the attendant says, her smile gone in favor of a blank stare.
“Will the airport be offering accommodations?” Dan says, his voice taking on a sickly sweet quality. Phil has barely known him for three hours, and yet he can tell it’s full of sarcasm and irritation.
The lady has the nerve to smile back at him, and Phil can tell from the stiffening of Dan’s back that it just pisses him off more. “I’m afraid not, sir. We’ll only be covering the cost of the plane ticket.”
Dan blows out a breath, and Phil can sense an argument coming. Already nervous enough from the attention of the other passengers, Phil quickly grabs his arm, tugging him away from the counter. “Thank you so much, we’ll think on it.”
Before Dan can say another word, Phil slides his hand down Dan’s arm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back over to their spot beside the window. Dan’s muttering to himself and when they come to a stop, his hand falls limp in Phil’s grasp. “I wasn’t finished talking to her,” he snips, his tone making Phil pause. Dan had yet to say anything snarky to him in a serious fashion, so this was a little more than surprising to him.
Phil shrugs, moving to sit in the floor and patting the space beside him. “Maybe not, but you seemed like you were getting a little upset.” When Dan doesn’t immediately sit down, instead pacing around in front of Phil, the older man sighs. “Thank you for talking to her for me,” he says softly. He hopes his tone, or his words, will get the brunette’s attention.
Somehow, his assumption actually works, and Dan pauses, glancing down at him. His gaze shifts from annoyed to almost fond, and he lets out a small sigh before moving to sit. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly. “I can’t believe they aren’t paying for hotel accommodations,” he continues, his voice bitter.
Phil gets the feeling that maybe this isn’t exactly about that, but probably more about Dan’s ability to pay for the hotel himself. After a quick moment of deliberation, Phil decides to go out on a limb to confirm his suspicion. “That doesn’t mean you can’t still stay in a hotel,” he says casually, waiting patiently to see Dan’s reaction.
Dan doesn’t surprise him. He scoffs softly, dropping his hand to pick at the ugly carpeting. “In theory, sure.” He’s quiet for a moment, but then he sighs and glances up at Phil with a sad sort of look. “I don’t really… I’m not really in the position to be spending money on hotel reservations. I just barely had this flight paid for, and…” he trails off, but Phil’s heard really all he needs to know.
After a beat of silence where Phil contemplates this news, chewing on his bottom lip, he finally decides to just go for it. “Stay with me, then.”
Unsurprisingly, Dan’s head jerks up at the words, a look of shock on his face. “What?” He breathes.
Phil shrugs, trying to appear more casual than he feels. “If we’re going to be here until Monday, I’m renting a hotel room. I want you to stay with me.” Feeling awkward with the almost-demanding way he’d said that, he continues. “Er, I mean, only if you want to, obviously. You don’t have to, but I just… I don’t want you to stay here, all by yourself. And… If you want, you can pay me back someday, after we’re back in London.”
Dan looks shocked, his brown eyes swirling with emotions that Phil can’t quite name. Eventually, he seems to settle on skeptical. “But… You barely know me. I barely know you. We just met, like, today, Phil.”
With a careless shrug, Phil says, “I know. But, I don’t think you’re the type to kill someone in their sleep, and I can assure you I’m far too lazy and squeamish to try it. Plus, I would love to see you in your cute cat shirt.” He grins as he says the last part, his tongue poking out just a bit.
Dan flushes, dropping his gaze to his hands, which are now fidgeting in his lap. “This is crazy,” he mutters.
“What is?” Phil asks him softly.
Waving a hand vaguely at the space between them, Dan lets out a short laugh. “This. Whatever we’re doing. We just met, and you…”
“I want you to spend the night with me. Yeah. But, honestly, Dan? Is it any worse than having like a one-night stand with someone? At least we sort of know each other, and it’s not like we have to sleep together or something.” Phil ducks his head to try to catch Dan’s gaze. “I won’t force you to, obviously. But I’d really love it if you’d come stay with me. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Dan seems speechless at this point, but after several seconds of intense eye contact, he finally nods slowly. “Okay,” he says softly.
“So, you’ll come with me?” Phil asks, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.
“Yeah,” Dan shrugs. “I don’t see why not. But, um…” He flushes, and Phil wonders what he could possibly have to be embarrassed about now. “Will we… you know…”
Phil studies him, confused. “Will we… What?” He asks, shaking his head uncertainly.
Dan ducks his head, covering his face with his hands. “Oh god. Please don’t make me say it.”
Lost, Phil lets out an awkward laugh. “I’m not sure what I’m not supposed to make you say.”
Dan huffs, but then glances back up at Phil, an almost determined glint in his eye. “Sleep together? Are we going to sleep together?”
Startled at the blunt way it was phrased, Phil is left a little speechless himself. “Oh, um…” He glances around, hoping no one in their immediate vicinity is listening to them. “I mean, if you want. I’m a cuddler, so we can share a bed if- wait, did you mean-?”
“I meant like- yeah.” Dan nods, his eyes darting off to the side. “But, um, that too, I guess.”
Phil can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips, and Dan glances up at him in confusion. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he says fondly. He stands up then, reaching a hand out for Dan. “C’mon. Let’s go tell the lady that we’d like to reschedule our flight, and we’ll sort out the rest after that.” Dan, although looking a little unsure, nods and allows Phil to pull him up. “And by we, I mean you, because she scares me.”
Dan lets out a laugh at this, reaching over to grab Phil’s hand again. “Fine, I’ll deal with the scary airport lady. Do you want to look for a hotel while I talk to her?”
Nodding, Phil reluctantly releases Dan’s hand to move over to an empty chair, pulling his phone out of his pocket to google the nearest hotels. Dan moves over to the attendant’s desk once again, and Phil frowns when he sees the way the lady barely smiles at him. Americans are truly something else.
Just as he’s clicked on the website for a decent looking hotel, Phil hears his name called. He glances up, his eyes finding Dan’s. “Can I see your ticket, love? I have to prove we were actually on this flight.” He rolls his eyes at this, since the attendant can’t see his face, and Phil smiles.
Tugging it out of his backpack, Phil moves to hand it to the brunette. “Here you go,” he says cheerily.
Dan smiles briefly before ducking his head slightly. “She thinks we’re together, so I’m going to let her think that and get the new seats together- if that’s alright, with you.” His voice is just quiet enough that the flight attendant probably can’t hear him over the sound of the other people milling about the terminal.
Phil nods, his lips curving up. “That’s perfect.” Fully aware of the attendant’s gaze on them, he leans forward and pecks Dan’s cheek gently. “I’ll go ahead and book us a room.”
“Oh, and I asked about luggage. She said it’s not likely that they’ll even be able to retrieve it, do you want me to try anyway?” Dan asks before turning back around.
Suppressing his disappointment at this, Phil shrugs. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to bother.”
Dan nods and runs a hand through his hair. “Be right back, then,” he replies before turning back around to the attendant. Phil hears him talking politely to the lady, so he takes that as his cue to return to his seat to work on the hotel thing.
Five minutes and a freshly booked hotel room later, Dan returns with two new tickets, handing one of them to Phil before tucking the other into his own backpack. “So, everything sorted?” He asks, shrugging the bag onto his shoulder.
“Mhm. We have a reservation under Lester at the Marriot. I ordered a car, and that should be here in like half an hour, I think.”
“Perfect. Wanna head to the front of the airport to wait?” Dan’s still standing, obviously expecting Phil to agree to this.
“Sure, that works.” Phil stands, tugging his own backpack onto his shoulder. He sneaks a peek at the flight attendant at the desk and noticed the sneer on her face as she watched them. Something he really hated dealing with was homophobia, and he was less prepared now than ever to handle someone who didn’t know them, or their situation, to be judging them.
He’s just about to make a remark to Dan about leaving, but the words die in his throat when he feels Dan’s hand slip into his. His eyes dart up to Dan’s, and he’s pretty sure the surprise on his face is likely very suspicious. Dan has a half smile on his lips, and he quickly leans in, brushing his lips against Phil’s cheek as he whispers, “I see the bitch glaring at us. I’m giving her a reason to glare.”
The grin that breaks out on Phil’s face then is really impossibly to stop, considering the fact that what Dan has done just fills him with adrenaline. He was out to his family and close friends, but he was never really offered the whole PDA option with his previous partners. It probably had something to do with his very unfortunate habit of falling for men who were closeted, or in some cases, men who thought they were straight but eventually realized that they weren’t.
“Ready to go, babe?” Dan says, in an overly sweet voice, clearly put on for the attendant.
Phil snickers but covers it with an unconvincing cough. He replies with an affirmative before he and Dan make their way to the front of the airport, where the car would hopefully come to pick them up soon. Phil fully expects Dan to drop his hand once they’ve made it out of their terminal and the flight attendant’s line of sight, but he makes no move to do so. Maybe this makes Phil blush, but he’d deny that if anyone were to confront him about it later.
After waiting in front of the airport for about ten minutes, quietly chatting about the weather and how much they missed England, their cab finally pulls up in front of them. “That was fast,” Dan remarks as he goes to climb in first.
“That’s what he said,” Phil mutters behind him.
The remark has Dan stopping in his tracks, slowly turning to stare at Phil, halfway in and halfway out of the car. Phil grins innocently. “I don’t have words, Lester. There are no words for how much I hated that.”
Phil rolls his eyes, shoving him forward gently. “That sounded like a lot of words to me, mate.”
Dan scrunches his face up as he slides into his seat, shooting the look at Phil as he climbs into the car as well. “Get away from me with your logic.”
Just to be a pest, Phil scoots as close as humanly possible to Dan, smiling innocently when he rolls his eyes at him. “What? I’m just getting comfy.” He doesn’t let Dan answer, instead choosing to turn around and give their driver the address of the hotel, just to be sure he knew where they were going.
The car ride is surprisingly quick, and Phil plays Crossy Road on his phone, Dan watching over his shoulder the whole time, both of them a little too awkward to make idle chit-chat with their driver. When they pull up outside of the hotel, Phil hands the man a few bills, not missing the way Dan purses his lips from beside him.
“What?” He asks as he climbs out of the car, holding the door open as Dan follows.
Dan shrugs. “I could have paid for that,” he says quietly as they walk to the hotel doors. Unlike when they were in the airport, Dan doesn’t reach for Phil’s hand.
A small weight settles in Phil’s chest at the thought that he’s hurt Dan’s feelings, and he frowns as he holds the door open for him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think- you can buy dinner, okay?”
Apparently, that’s the right thing to say, because Dan smiles brightly and nods. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that,” he says with a grin.
Phil rolls his eyes playfully. “You better,” he teases back.
There’s no one in the queue line, so they walk right up, smiling nervously at the clerk behind the counter. She smiles thinly, glancing between the two of them before her eyes settle on Dan. “Hi, how can I help you?”
Dan’s lip quirks up as he steps closer to speak to the clerk for them. “We’ve got a room booked for Lester,” he informs her, spelling it out afterwards and glancing over at Phil with a small smile. The relief Phil feels at not having to converse with her himself is immeasurable, and he sends Dan a grateful smile in return.
After a moment, she glances back up, a pitying smile on her face. “Sorry, there must be a mistake here, that reservation is in a room with only one bed.” She glances between the two of them again, biting her lip in what she probably thinks is an attractive manner when her gaze settles on Dan.
Dan smirks, shaking his head. “No mistake. Do you guys do room service? We might fancy some wine later, right babe?” He turns to smile at Phil, his eyes filled with mischief.
Phil struggles to hide his laughter. “That sounds lovely.” He turns back to the girl, digging in his pocket for his wallet and handing his credit card over, as well as his ID. “Here you go.”
Although her expression has shifted to one of contempt, the girl nods stiffly before running his card and fishing out their room key cards, sliding them across the counter with a pen and a form. “Sign at the bottom, please,” she mumbles, her gaze no longer focused on either of them.
Phil dutifully signs the paper and grabs their key cards, handing one to Dan before tucking his own into his pocket and grabbing his credit card. “Thanks!” With a cheerful wave, he turns away from the counter, making his way through the lobby of the hotel as if he has any clue where he’s going. He vaguely hears the receptionist suggest that he take a left to find their room, and he nods, tossing another wave over his shoulder, tugging Dan along by his hand.
“Did you see her face? She was so shocked!” Dan giggles, lacing his fingers through Phil’s as they walk. His excitement is palpable, and Phil’s lips quirk up into a smile at him.
“She did look pretty surprised,” Phil agrees with a nod. “Are you okay? You seem kind of hyper.”
Dan nods, then shrugs as he pulls out his keycard, checking the number before stopping at a door. “Yeah, I guess the gay part of me just thrives off straight shock and blatant homophobia.” He says this nonchalantly as he opens the door, but the words make Phil giggle.
“Wow, you’re really a hero in a rainbow cape, aren’t you?” Phil jokes as they step inside their room.
Dan crinkles his nose. “Rainbow isn’t really my aesthetic, I’m more of a monochrome person,” he says with a cheeky grin.
Phil rolls his eyes at this, tossing his phone and keycard onto the desk, followed by his backpack. “Alright, Edgelord.” He kicks his shoes off haphazardly before flopping down on the bed. “Oh my god, this bed is so nice,” he gushes.
There’s a soft laugh, and Phil tilts his head to watch Dan. The brunette places his backpack down beside Phil’s before leaning down and moving his shoes, tucking them under the desk neatly before taking his own off and doing the same. Phil watches as Dan stands up, his gaze still locked on their shoes. He seems to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he’s having, turning to face Phil. A blush covers his face when he sees that Phil’s gaze is already on him, and he quickly moves to sit on the end of the bed, looking rather awkward all of a sudden.
Phil smiles at him before patting the space beside him. “Come here.”
Dan obediently moves to the end of the bed and crawls up to sit beside Phil, staring down at him with those wide brown eyes. Phil can’t help himself, so he reaches out and brushes his knuckles against Dan’s knee, craving physical touch. Their gazes are locked as he continues the motion, and Dan slowly shifts closer until he can more comfortably drop his hand onto Phil’s arm. He drags his fingertips up the length of Phil’s arm, dipping under the sleeve of his t-shirt before trailing back down.
“You okay?” Phil murmurs.
“Yes,” Dan answers almost immediately, sending Phil a smile.
“You’d let me know if I made you uncomfortable, right?”
Dan looks surprised at this, then purses his lips amusedly. “Yes, of course I would.”
Phil nods, happy with this. “Good.” He moves to sit up then, pressing his back against the headboard. There’s a thought nagging in the back of his head, and he knows he needs some kind of clarification on it before their night continues. “I don’t know how far you want to take any of this, so to avoid any embarrassment or mistakes on either of our parts, I think we should talk about it.”
“Okay,” Dan nods easily. He tilts his head to the side, studying Phil closely. “How far did you want to go?” Despite the fact that this is what would probably be an awkward conversation with anyone else, Dan seems completely comfortable with discussing everything beforehand. This is a huge relief for Phil.
A smirk tugs on Phil’s lips. “Well, I’m up for anything. Like, if you want to properly sleep together, or if you just want to watch a film, or somewhere between the two. I’m genuinely happy with whatever you’re comfortable with, Dan.” Phil tries to sound sincere, because he is, and he wants Dan to feel absolutely comfortable with him, especially considering the oddity of their circumstances.
There’s an odd look on Dan’s face as he seems to process Phil’s words, and he swears softly as he looks down. A confusion filled moment later, his eyes return to Phil’s, and he sighs. “This is going to be so sappy, but you may honestly be the nicest person I’ve ever met, Phil.” He shakes his head with a laugh before moving to sit closer to Phil, their knees pressing together in the criss-cross way each of them are sitting.
Phil smiles at this. “I hope that’s not a nicer way of saying you think I’m boring.”
Dan fake gasps before grinning. “I would never!” He denies through a giggle.
“Oh, sure. I believe you.” Phil nods, trying to maintain a serious expression.
A pout pulls at Dan’s lips, and he tilts his head down to bat his eyelashes at Phil. The expression is so adorable, and it emphasizes the dimple on his cheek, so Phil really can’t help it when his body tells him to lean forward and press a gentle kiss to the concave skin. He feels Dan let out a shaky breath against his own cheek, and suddenly it hits him that he’s definitely just crossed a boundary.
Sitting back, horrified with himself, Phil hurries to apologize. “I’m sorry- I wasn’t-“
Dan cuts him off abruptly, a rosy patch appearing on his face. “I didn’t mind. I, um… You can do it again. Like, proper, if you want.” He stares down at the bed, but he’s chewing on his lip anxiously as he waits for Phil’s response.
Phil tries to hide his smile as he leans forward, trying to catch Dan’s gaze. “Would you like that?”
His cheeks more noticeably red now, Dan nods, his eyes looking anywhere but Phil’s.
“I need some words, Dan,” Phil says gently, moving his finger to stroke Dan’s jaw. “I won’t kiss you without your full verbal consent.”
This has Dan’s head snapping up, his wide eyes falling onto Phil’s face. His look of surprise would be concerning if it wasn’t so amusing. Phil quirks an eyebrow at him, tilting his head. “I don’t think… I’ve never had someone check like that before kissing me.”
“Oh.” Now it’s Phil’s turn to feel surprised. “I’m sorry? I just… I don’t know, I like to ask?” He says this almost as a question, suddenly a little unsure of himself.
Dan smiles at him, a fond look on his face. “No, I actually… I like that. I like that you asked first.”
Phil grins at this, tilting his head. “Well, you never actually answered me…”
With a smirk, Dan shifts closer, dropping his hand onto the base of Phil’s neck, his thumb stroking up and down the column of his throat. “I want you to kiss me.” Dan presses forward, his mouth hovering closely to Phil’s. “I want you to do way more than just kiss me, though.”
Phil shivers at his words, and he doesn’t waste any more time after that. He presses forward quickly, connecting their lips. An audible sigh tumbles from Dan’s lips at the contact, and the noise only encourages Phil to press forward more insistently. He tugs gently at Dan’s shirt, trying to guide him to sit on his lap. Dan seemingly misunderstands, reaching down and tugging the fabric up and over his head.
Smirking, Phil leans forward and runs a hand across Dan’s chest, dragging his thumb against a nipple as he goes. “That’s not quite what I meant, but it’ll do,” he teases.
Dan looks surprised, which is beautiful coupled with the way his skin is already flushed. “That’ll do, donkey, that’ll do,” he says suddenly, a Scottish lilt to his words. His face immediately floods with color and he reaches a hand up to cover his mouth, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say that aloud.
Unable to help himself, Phil tilts his head back and starts laughing loudly. He feels tears of mirth spring to his eyes as he giggles, struggling to get ahold of himself once he sees the mortified look on Dan’s face. “That was- oh my god, Dan,” Phil gasps. “That was so funny.”
“I- that was embarrassing!” Dan snaps, clearly more upset about it than he’d let on. “I- that wasn’t something I meant to- ugh.” He pulls his knees up to his chest, ducking his head to hide his face.
Phil sobers up seeing that Dan’s genuinely embarrassed. He reaches forward, petting Dan’s hair gently. “Dan, love, it’s honestly not as embarrassing as you think. I thought it was funny. I laughed.”
“Yeah, you laughed at me because it was stupid,” Dan mumbles bitterly, tilting his head to get Phil’s hand away.
“It was funny, Dan. You have a good sense of humor.” When Dan doesn’t respond to this, Phil decides to approach it from a different angle. That angle is by playing Dan at his own game. “I like your sense of humor. It’s one of your layers,” he says slowly. He’s staring at Dan so intensely that he sees the way his shoulders tense up, as he clearly starts to understand the reference. “You know what else has layers?” He grins brightly when Dan slowly raises his head.
“What?” Dan asks, almost smiling but trying to hide it.
“Cakes. Everybody loves cakes! Cakes have layers,” He says brightly, doing a horrible imitation of Eddie Murphy.
Dan’s lips quirk up into a half-smile. “Ogres are not like cakes,” he mumbles.
Phil grins before reaching over and brushing a curl out of Dan’s face. “No,” he hums in agreement. “I reckon they’re not.”
A soft look is on Dan’s face when he leans forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s in a soft, timid kiss, worlds away from the hot kisses they’d shared only moments before. “I really like you,” he whispers against Phil’s mouth.
“Guess what?” Phil whispers back, pressing another kiss to Dan’s lips before pulling away again. “I really like you too.”
“Can we…” Dan trails off, as if he’s unsure about what he wants to say.
“Can we?” Phil prompts gently, rubbing his thumb across Dan’s cheekbone slowly.
Dan takes a deep breath, leaning into Phil’s touch. “Can we not have sex tonight?”
Surprised, and a little confused, Phil leans away. “Oh- of course. We don’t- I mean, we won’t if you don’t want to do that… with me.” He feels an irrational sense of hurt in his chest, and he knows damn well that it’s unwarranted.
Dan’s eyes widen as if he’s been misunderstood. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. Of course I want to, I just…” He trails off, his eyes roaming the wall as if his thoughts are written there, ready to be read off like a script. “I don’t think I want to go that far tonight. Not since we just met.”
Phil nods slowly, trying to wrap his mind around exactly what he thinks Dan wants, considering they’d been on a completely different page only minutes before. “Okay… That’s fine. We don’t have to do any of that.”
The brunette chews on his lip, contemplating. “Can we maybe, like, do some of it? I-“ he flushes then, as if he’s seriously still embarrassed. “I want you, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. And I feel like maybe we should have something to look forward to… for later, you know.”
Suddenly, Phil gets the idea that this is likely not about Dan’s aversion to sleeping with him at all. It’s about his aversion to only sleeping with him once. His anxiety settled, Phil smiles at the younger man. “Of course. We’ll need something to look forward to after our next date,” he says cheekily.
Dan laughs, but scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “About that, actually,” he starts.
Phil immediately goes back into panic mode, his eyes widening in surprise. “Oh are you- did you not want to-“
“No, no, no, let me talk,” Dan reprimands gently, flicking Phil’s elbow as punishment for his interruption. He ignores the way Phil pouts, rubbing the skin as if it actually hurt. “I want to, of course I want to. But, I don’t want to go get coffee.”
Phil frowns, confused. “Okay, well, did you-“
“No!” Dan says, louder this time. “Let me ask!”
Startled at Dan’s outburst, Phil leans back a bit, chuckling. “Okay, okay. Go ahead, then.”
Dan takes another deep breath, as if he’s trying to prepare himself for something. “I want to take you to dinner. There’s a restaurant near where I work that I’ve been dying to try, and I want to take you with me.”
Phil tries to force down the flattery he feels at the fact that he rode in the same train of thought as the other everyday parts of Dan’s life, at least for now. “I’d love to go with you,” Phil responds after realizing he hadn’t answered him yet. “When we get back to London we’ll figure out when to go.”
Dan smiles, appearing relieved. “And I can pay, right?” He sounds excited by this, to Phil’s amusement.
“I can-“
“You told me earlier that whoever asks is who pays. I get to pay, right?” Dan interrupts.
Phil sighs, staring at the other man with far too much fondness, all things considered. “Fine, yes, you can pay.”
Dan grins brightly. “Perfect,” he replies, leaning forward to kiss Phil quickly. “Can we order some food?” He asks then, placing a hand on his stomach. “I need to feed the baby.”
Phil blinks.
“The what?”
Dan smirks. “The baby.”
“What baby?” Phil asks, cautious in a way that he shouldn’t be, given that Dan is, as far as he knows, biologically a male and thus unable to carry children.
“Me, I’m the baby,” Dan responds, his eyes sparkling with joy when Phil huffs.
“Oh my god, shut up,” Phil groans, shoving at his shoulder lightly.
Dan giggles, catching his arm and pulling him closer. “No,” he sing-songs. “You like it! You think I’m funny!” He says gleefully.
Phil rolls his eyes, suddenly adamant on not agreeing with that very true statement. “Eh,” he says nonchalantly. “You’re okay.”
Dan pouts before apparently deciding he feels like being cheeky. He swings a leg over Phil’s thighs, so he’s settled on his lap. “Say it, say you think I’m funny,” he demands, dropping his arms to rest on Phil’s shoulders, his hands playing at the ends of his hair.
“I think you’re funny,” Phil deadpans. Smirking, he continues. “Funny looking!”
“Phil!” Dan whines.
Phil smiles, unable to help himself as he leans in and captures the other man’s mouth in a kiss. “You’re cute,” he mumbles against the chapped lips.
“Yeah,” Dan agrees absently before pressing closer, moving his lips against Phil’s gently. Pulling away a little, he bats his eyelashes at him. “I’m also hungry,” he reminds him.
Phil’s laugh echoes around the room. “You’re like a pet, or a kid. You have to be amused and fed and all this stuff. It’s really a lot of work, huh?”
Dan quirks an eyebrow. “At least you don’t have to change my nappy,” he jokes.
Phil’s lips curl up into a smirk. “I still want in your pants, though,” he says coyly.
The groan he receives in response is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds, usurped only by the whine of “Phillll,” that immediately follows it.
~~~
“I’m so full,” Dan announces a full room service-ordered pizza later.
“We ate a whole pizza. We’re gonna explode,” Phil complains, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I actually feel ill.”
Dan laughs quietly from beside him. “I can make you feel better,” he murmurs, his voice closer.
Phil moves his arm enough to look at Dan with one eye. “No offense, but I’m not in the mood to be sexy right now.”
The brunette rolls his eyes, reaching forward to flick Phil’s temple. “I didn’t mean it like that, you freak. I meant I can put on a film and snuggle you.”
Phil blinks. “Oh.”
“So?” Dan prods.
“Sure, yeah, let’s do that,” he agrees easily enough. He hands Dan the remote to the television since it’s closer to him. “Pick something good,” he instructs as he goes to slip under the covers.
Dan raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to take your jeans off?” he asks.
Phil stops, glances down at himself, and then turns to Dan slowly to smirk. “Are you trying to get me out of my pants, Daniel?”
“Tactless, Philip, absolutely tactless,” he mumbles. “Still, take them off. If we’re going to share a bed I will not be sharing it with someone who’s going to be rubbing denim all over me.”
“Who said I’ll be rubbing anything all over you?” Phil teases as he stands to shimmy out of the jeans.
Dan meets his eyes with a steady gaze. “I did,” he responds, his voice low. “Shirt, too.”
Phil feels a shiver run through him at this turn of events. “Oh- okay.” He tugs the shirt off at the neckline, and for once in his life, the movement is as smooth as he imagined, and he drops the fabric to the floor. He turns his gaze to Dan, finding him staring back, his gaze dark. “Better?” Phil asks, attempting sultry.
The brunette blinks slowly. “Are you always this messy?” He asks, his tone as unreadable as his expression.
Phil startles at that, having expected an entirely different reaction. “Sorry?” He stutters out.
Dan gestures to the clothes on the floor. “Those don’t go on the floor,” he chastises, his tone somewhere between amused and disapproving.
Blinking, Phil shifts his gaze to the clothes he’d carelessly dropped. “Oh. Well, I don’t have my luggage, remember?”
Dan opens his mouth as if he has something to say to that, but apparently, he decides against it, snapping his mouth shut again before shrugging.
Insufferably curious as usual, Phil can’t help but prod. “What?” He asks, placing his hands on his hips.
The brunette shakes his head, smiling thinly. “Just a pet peeve, you’re fine, c’mere.” He holds his arms out, inviting Phil into his embrace, but Phil doesn’t take the bait.
“No, just tell me. Is it because I threw my clothes on the floor?”
Rolling his eyes, Dan drops his arms. “If I tell you will you quit being weird and come snuggle me?”
“Maybe,” Phil sticks his tongue out childishly.
Dan snorts. “I just don’t like clutter.”
Phil blinks.
“That’s clutter?” He asks, gesturing to the crumpled clothes.
“Yes,” Dan confirms with a nod.
“Oh.”
“Come here now?”
“Let me-“ Phil cuts himself off, bending over to collect his clothes. He haphazardly folds them before laying them on the desk where he’d sat his backpack earlier. When he turns around, he finds Dan studying him with a soft look.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. Again, he holds out his arms. “C’mere.”
Phil shakes his head, turning around and grabbing Dan’s backpack, which he knows contains a certain adorable cat shirt. “Pajama time,” he says enthusiastically.
Dan flushes. “Uh…” He trails off, the rosy patch adjacent to his dimple drawing a smile from Phil’s lips.
“Please? It’ll be comfier, and you’ll look so cute,” Phil says cheekily. Maybe he just wants to watch Dan undress, but there’s more to it than that. He wants to snuggle with the other man and snuggling with him in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers is just incredibly tempting to him.
The brunette rolls his eyes and lets out a huff but sits up and holds a hand out. “Hand me the shirt.”
Phil makes a gleeful noise before digging through the bag, tugging at the white fabric when he sees it. He makes sure to take the tags off first before handing it over, watching as Dan tugs his other shirt over his head. When he catches Phil’s stare, he flushes even more.
“Quit looking at me!” He whines, tugging the fabric over his head quickly so that Phil can no longer see his bare skin.
“Sorry,” Phil says, very little remorse in his voice. “I just think you’re very fit.”
Dan stares pointedly down at the shirt he is meticulously folding. “Whatever,” he mumbles.
Even with his pouting, Phil can see the small smile on his pink lips.
“Are you taking your jeans off?” Phil asks as he finally settles onto the bed beside him. “You’ll be comfier that way,” He tries to encourage.
Dan snorts. “You are absolutely thirsty, aren’t you, mate?”
Phil shrugs unashamedly. “I’m gay, and you’re hot. Simple man, simple pleasures,” Phil explains with a smile.
He expects the eyeroll he gets, and he doesn’t bat an eye as Dan stands and begins tugging his jeans down his legs. Their gazes meet briefly, and Dan freezes briefly before seeming to gather some courage, turning away and very obviously bending down to push the material down to his ankles. The position gives Phil a perfect view of Dan’s ass, which is obviously his intention.
Suddenly Phil doesn’t care quite as much about watching a good film.
When Dan is finished, he folds his jeans, placing those and his shirt onto the desk beside Phil’s neatly. When he turns around, there’s an innocent sort of smile on his face. “What?” He asks, clearly catching onto the shift in Phil’s energy.
“C’mere,” Phil rasps, patting his thighs.
Dan quirks a brow, putting a hand on his hip and giving Phil a disbelieving look. “You want me to sit on your lap?” he asks, sounding dubious at the very idea.
“Yeah, I do,” Phil answers confidently. “Please,” he adds, softer.
Dan’s face softens at this, and he immediately moves forward, climbing onto the bed and tossing a leg over Phil’s and coming to rest his ass atop Phil’s thighs, just as he wanted. “Okay?” He whispers, bringing a hand up to card through Phil’s inky hair.
Phil drops his own hands onto Dan’s thighs, just below the fabric of his boxers. “Perfect,” he replies, just as quiet.
The air around them is heavy with silence as they sit there, studying each other closely. It should feel awkward, or intimidating, but it only feels intimate, and dare Phil say it, safe. He traces small circles onto the skin of Dan’s thigh with his thumbs, and revels in the way Dan scratches at his scalp gently.
“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” Dan interrupts the silence with a whisper, his voice wavering as Phil watches his eyes flood with emotion.
“So, do I,” Phil replies. “It’s…“ he trails off as he tries to think of a way to describe it. “I feel like you’re someone I’ve known forever, but I’m only just finding you again.”
Dan ducks his head at this, letting out heavy breaths against Phil’s shoulder, his body beginning to tremble. “Fuck,” He whispers.
“Are you- I’m sorry, that was probably creepy and totally weird. I understand if you think I'm a serial murderer now,” Phil apologizes quickly, wincing as he recounts the very strange thing he’d just confessed to this man he’d only known for the past ten hours or so.
“No, I just-“ Dan takes another heavy breath. “It’s a lot, for me. To feel like this.”
Phil dares a question into the lull of silence. “Like what?”
Dan’s quiet for a long time.
Finally, he speaks. “Like I’m not alone.”
Phil’s positive his heart breaks at those words. His hands move to wrap around Dan’s back, tugging him into a hug. “I’m right here, love.”
After a few moments of him stroking up and down Dan’s back, coupled with pressing soft kisses to his hair, Phil finally manages to calm Dan down. He leans away slowly, carefully avoiding Phil’s gaze as he rubs his hands over his eyes. “Thank you,” he mumbles. “God, I’m sorry I’m so weepy and emotional, like that’s not what you signed up for, fuck,” Dan rambles, leaning away and running a worried hand through his untamed curls.
Phil shushes him gently. “I signed up for you, Dan. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Dan stares at him for a moment, his gaze hardening. Before Phil can even think to question it, the other man leans forward, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. Phil startles, but gently kisses back, trying to coax Dan out of his harshness. Dan’s not having that, though, nipping at Phil’s lips and rolling his hips down to grind against the older man.
Phil’s heart races at the change of pace, and not in an entirely good way. Gently, he presses his hands against Dan’s hips, halting his movements. “Dan,” he whispers against his lips, pulling away when Dan tries to follow. “You need to slow down,” He reprimands gently.
Dan huffs, shoving Phil’s hands off his hips and rocking down once again, making Phil gasp and shudder at the friction on his clothed cock. Dan doesn’t stop there, gripping the back of Phil’s neck and pulling him in again for another kiss.
As much as Phil is turned on, the concern he feels for Dan’s well-being is eclipsing the feeling his cock is trying to convince him he should focus on. Knowing that Dan isn’t fully stable right now, Phil once again presses against his hips, forcing them to a reluctant stop.
The cry that falls from Dan’s lips once his movements are stopped again is enough to break Phil’s heart all over again. He sounds positively wounded, and Phil can’t stand it. But he also can’t stand the idea of Dan forcing them to go too far right now in a fit of emotion. “Dan, stop,” he says, his voice authoritative in a way he hasn’t been so far.
Dan whines, he actually whines. “But-“
“You aren’t actually ready to go that far, you already told me that,” Phil reminds him, stroking his thumb over Dan’s cheekbone.
“I changed my mind,” Dan argues petulantly.
Phil levels him with an unimpressed stare. “That’s a lie, and we both know it.”
“You don’t know shit,” Dan snaps immediately.
Phil is a little taken aback by the sharp tone, but he tries to hide how hurt he actually is by it. “Okay,” he concedes quietly.
Dan’s face immediately falls as he catches himself. “I didn’t mean- Phil, I wasn’t-“
Phil cuts him off with a shrug. “It’s fine. You’re right, I don’t know as much as I probably should to be making such rash judgements.”
The brunette shakes his head adamantly, chocolate curls swaying over his forehead. “No, no, no, you know plenty. You’ve learned more, and listened to me more, in the past ten hours, than most of my friends have in the past ten months.”
Still not fully convinced that he hadn’t meant it, Phil shrugs. He’s going to try not to let his now sour mood cost them their comfortable evening, though. “Wanna watch a film still?”
Dan nods, swallowing hard. “Are you cross?”
Phil shakes his head, moving under the duvet. “No, I’m not cross. C’mere so we can snuggle.” He holds up the covers to allow Dan to crawl under them and get settled. Despite how comfortable they’ve already established that they feel with each other, it’s a little awkward as they try to maneuver into a position that’s comfortable for the both of them.
They end up with Phil resting his back against the head board, Dan sat between his legs, his back to Phil’s chest. It’s cozy, and Phil finds himself petting Dan’s curls gently as Dan channel surfs for something to watch.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” the younger man whispers.
Phil presses a kiss to his neck, not missing the way Dan shivers. “It’s okay.” He hesitates, a question burning on his tongue, but he’s almost positive he’s crossing a line. Rather than ask what he’s desperate to inquire about, he chooses a different path. “Do you need to do anything before you go to sleep?” He asks.
Dan stiffens in his arms, and Phil panics, thinking for sure that he’s messed up. “Brush my teeth?” He says, his voice lilting up as if it’s a question rather than an answer.
His attempt at asking about his medication indirectly foiled, Phil releases a small sigh. “I meant, like…” he trails off, pondering how to phrase it without sounding insensitive.
“Are you asking if I need to wank before I sleep?” Dan deadpans when Phil fails to respond.
Phil splutters at the question. “No! I mean, if you still wanted to like, not like- but- that’s not what I was asking.”
Dan turns enough to meet Phil’s gaze. “Then what the hell were you asking?” He’s smiling, clearly amused at how flustered Phil is.
Closing his eyes tightly to avoid any sort of anger Dan might harbor, Phil speaks without thinking. “I was trying to ask if you needed to take your medicine tonight. I wasn’t sure how to ask that delicately.”
He waits for an outburst, to feel Dan shove him away and curse him for being so nosy, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, he feels a hand cup his jaw before soft lips press to his. “Phil,” Dan breathes through a laugh.
Phil slowly opens his eyes, surprised to find Dan staring at him with the softest gaze. “I’m sorry,” he blurts before he can stop himself.
“Don’t be,” Dan immediately says. “I think it’s really sweet that you asked me that. You’re actually right, I need to take it before I sleep, but it makes me really drowsy, so when I take it I’ll be out pretty quick.” He says the last part with his eyes downcast, as if he’s embarrassed for some reason.
“Okay. Do you want to take it now? It’s getting late.” Phil honestly doesn’t care at all what time it is, but he doesn’t want to mess up Dan’s body’s chemistry by keeping him from taking his medicine when he should.
A grimace is on Dan’s face as he glances over at the clock. “Remind me in an hour?” He requests, his voice soft.
“Sure,” Phil replies with a smile. He grabs the discarded TV remote, continuing the search for something to watch. “What’re you in the mood for?” He asks, moving in to rest his chin atop Dan’s shoulder.
“I reckon I’m in the mood for you,” Dan says cheekily.
Phil rolls his eyes and tilts his head to lick Dan’s ear. He intends it to be a punishment for Dan’s inappropriate behavior, so he’s not expecting the quiet gasp and the shiver that rocks Dan’s body. “Hm,” Phil hums, intrigued at that response. “That’s interesting,” he teases. Dropping the remote after clicking play on a random title, he wraps his arms around Dan’s chest, holding the younger man in place against his body. This time he deliberately drags the tip of his tongue along the shell of Dan’s ear, pressing a kiss there before moving down to the spot just behind the lobe.
“Phil,” Dan breathes, his hand coming up to grip Phil’s arm.
“What?” Phil whispers. “Do you want me to stop?” It comes out sultry but it’s a serious question, and if Dan says yes he knows he’ll drop it immediately.
“No,” Dan nearly shouts. “Feels good.” He arches his neck, giving Phil more room to work.
“Good,” Phil hums before dropping his lips back to the expanse of skin, kissing a line down from his ear to the base of his throat. “Can I leave a mark?” He breathes, suddenly obsessed with the idea of leaving this piece of Dan covered in marks. Phil doesn’t generally think of himself as a possessive person by nature, but this time he feels is an exception.
“Fuck yes,” Dan all but moans. “Please.”
Phil smiles against the skin before opening his mouth and sucking, just hard enough to bring a little color to the area. He didn’t want to hurt the other man, obviously, but in a sick way, he wanted Dan to feel him even after they parted.
His teeth graze the spot just a little, and Dan’s body jerks. “Fuck,” he moans, long and drawn out. Phil glances down, smiling proudly to himself when he sees the obscene way that Dan’s boxers have tented with his arousal.
“More?” Phil whispers, double checking that Dan is still into this.
“Please.” It’s almost a sob.
So, Phil goes back to his gentle assault, scraping his teeth along the bites after each suction. He’s had this done to himself, he knows how electrifying it can feel to have the already tender area grazed like that, and from Dan’s physical response, he’s a fan of it.
“Please, please, please,” Dan chants.
Phil pulls away just a bit. “What do you need?” He asks.
“Touch me, please, I’m so close,” Dan babbles, practically thrashing in his arms at the pleasure.
Phil pauses at that. “You’re already close? Just from this?” He asks, breathing deeply against Dan’s neck before licking a stripe up the side.
“Yes, yes, fuck,” Dan whines.
Phil hums. “Think you could come just like this?” He doesn’t seriously think Dan could, but the imagery is.... intoxicating, to say the least.
Dan twists in his arms, trying to get friction on his cock. “Nuh-uh,” he protests. “Can’t- not close enough-“
“Okay, shh, I’ll get you there.” Phil’s mind is whirling with all the possibilities here, his own straining cock forgotten in favor of getting Dan off. He could easily wank him off in this position or he could even reposition them to suck him off. While both of those are equally as tempting, he almost loses it at the idea of wanking Dan while still sucking on his neck.
Phil drops a hand down to palm over the front of Dan’s pants, and the boy shudders against him. “Phil,” he gasps.
“This okay?” Phil whispers, moving his hand to dip his fingers under the waistband of the material.
“Yes,” Dan breathes.
With permission granted, Phil shucks Dan’s boxers down to his thighs, unconcerned about properly removing them right now. He makes a soft noise as he gets a look at Dan’s weeping cock, gently wrapping his hand around his length and giving it a squeeze. “What a beautiful cock,” he breathes into Dan’s ear, darting his tongue out to lick inside.
“Phil, don’t-“ Dan protests, his brown eyes wide as he tilts his head to stare at the older man.
“It is, though. Absolutely gorgeous, love,” he praises, stroking slowly as he whispers into Dan’s ear.
“Gonna come,” Dan whispers, dropping his head back to rest on Phil’s shoulder.
“Yeah? Your pretty dick is going to come all over my hand?” Phil hardly ever talks like this in bed, but something about Dan is intoxicating and he feels absolutely drunk off it. “Go on, then. Come for me.”
Dan whines, his hips rutting up into Phil’s hand as he chases his relief. “Close, close,” he whines helplessly.
Phil presses a kiss to his neck, nipping gently before licking over it. His left hand crawls up from where it had been resting on top of Dan’s stomach, rucking his shirt up as he goes. His thumb brushes against Dan’s nipple and he stills for a moment before moaning, his hips moving even faster up into Phil’s hand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants.
“Shh, we’re in a hotel,” Phil reminds him, a little worried about being caught out.
Dan whines loudly at that, and Phil shrugs his shoulder so Dan’s head rolls to the side, just enough that Phil can capture his lips in a heated kiss. He presses his tongue inside, licking into Dan’s mouth and swallowing his noises as he strokes him faster.
He feels the moment that Dan’s orgasm overcomes him, his body going rigid and his mouth slackening against Phil’s before he shudders and moans into Phil’s mouth. Then he’s spilling wet and hot over Phil’s fingers, his hips still rolling gently as he rides out the pleasure.
“Good boy,” Phil murmurs on a whim.
Dan whines at this, his body slowly relaxing as the last waves subside, until he’s laying completely limp against the front of Phil’s body. Phil brings his wet hand up to his mouth, sucking a finger into his mouth to clean Dan’s come off. Dan opens his eyes at the noise, and his face goes a shade darker when he sees what Phil’s doing.
“Want some?” Phil offers with a smirk, holding his hand out.
Dan stares at him, his eyes wide, but he slowly, hesitantly opens his mouth in invitation. Phil smears a little onto Dan’s lower lip before pushing a finger into his mouth. He’s shocked when Dan closes his lips around the digit and begins sucking, swirling his tongue around as he swipes the mess clean. His gaze never falters, and Phil is mesmerized at the wrecked look on his face.
He moves onto the next finger without being asked, and within just a few moments, his hand is completely clean again. “Thanks for the snack,” Dan says with a smirk, appearing to be completely at himself again.
“That was...” Phil trails off, unsure of how to even explain how that made him feel.
Dan’s expression shifts to one of shyness. “Sorry, was that too much?”
Phil gapes at him, slowly shaking his head. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he informs him matter-of-factly.
If it’s even possible, Dan’s rosy cheeks just become darker at the compliment. “Really? I didn’t know if maybe it’d gross you out or something, it’s-“
Phil has to cut him off there. “No, fuck no. That was hot.”
Dan smiles genuinely at him before wriggling out of his grip and turning to face him instead. Phil’s legs part immediately to give him more room, his prominent erection very obvious at this angle. Dan makes no move to tuck himself back into his pants, and instead he pulls them off entirely, tossing them to the end of the bed.
“Thought you didn’t like clutter?” Phil teases.
“Sex clutter doesn’t count,” Dan snips back.
“Round two already?”
Dan grins. “Actually, this is more of part two to our round one. You still haven’t come once.”
“Hm, interesting observation,” he coughs out. Phil has been painfully aware of this fact, but since he was unsure what all Dan was comfortable doing, he didn’t want to push him any further yet. It seemed that Dan didn’t have these same reservations.
With a cheeky smile, Dan lays down, making himself comfy on the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help.” He glances up at Phil then, quirking an eyebrow. “You’re okay with this, yeah?”
Phil nods. “Yes,” he assures him quickly. He’s aware of how desperate that probably sounds, but he can’t find it in him to care.
“I’m gonna suck you off, okay?” Dan asks, looking up at Phil with doe eyes.
“Fuck,” Phil whimpers. “That’s more than okay, yeah, shit.”
Dan smiles before leaning in and licking up Phil’s length, flicking his tongue over the tip before bending his neck to take the tip into his mouth. He swirls his tongue, suckling lightly before momentarily popping off. “Teeth?” Dan inquires.
Phil pauses before shaking his head. “No.”
Nodding, Dan goes right back in, this time bobbing his head to take more of him into his mouth. Phil groans when Dan hollows his cheeks, unable to help shifting his hips up a little to chase the wet heat. “Sorry,” he mumbles, flinging a hand up to grip at his own hair.
Dan peers up at him, pulling off with a frown. “Here, give me your hands.” He takes Phil’s hands and guides them to his hair, pressing them down against his scalp until Phil gets the picture.
“Oh,” he breathes.
“You can pull on it, I like that,” Dan says, his voice a little shy.
Phil takes a shuddering breath before complying and tugging Dan’s hair a little, enough to guide him back to his leaking cock. “There we go,” he murmurs when Dan’s lips part for the tip. “Good boy,” he says tentatively, testing it out. Dan had responded well to it when he was on the brink of release, but he was unsure if it was still a thing now.
Dan moans around him, and Phil relaxes, relieved to find something Dan is into as well. He chews on his lip as Dan works on taking him deeper, his red lips stretching beautifully around his length. Phil nearly purrs when Dan sucks just right, bobbing his head slowly before pulling off almost entirely and lapping at the precum.
Phil can’t help but groan at the way Dan is licking him. “You look like you’re eating a fucking ice lolly,” he pants.
Another lick and Dan pulls his mouth away long enough to smirk. “Tastes even better,” he says, his voice low and rough.
Even though he knows that Dan is trying to be sexy, Phil can’t help the snort of laughter that falls from his mouth. “Fuck, Dan.”
“Hm, maybe later, I’m busy right now,” Dan says cheekily.
Phil can’t help but roll his eyes at this. “You’re so- oh fuck,” he moans when Dan suddenly deepthroats him. Phil grips the sheets tightly, using all his willpower not to fuck into the wet warmth, knowing that in this position it would absolutely choke Dan. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, moving a hand to stroke gently through Dan’s curls. “You’re so good at this, baby. So good.”
Dan hums, and slowly shifts his jaw. Phil feels it just as much as he sees it when Dan swallows around him, and Phil drops his head back with a groan. He’s close, he’s so close, but he doesn’t want to hurt Dan and he knows that when he comes he’s not going to be thinking about keeping himself still.
Gently, he grips Dan’s hair and pulls him off a little bit. Dan’s eyes are wide and slightly panicked when he looks up at him, but Phil only smiles reassuringly. “You’re doing lovely, but I don’t want to hurt you finishing like that.”
Dan crinkles his nose. “I don’t think someone has ever called my blowjob skills “lovely” and I’m not entirely sure what to make of that,” he rasps, his voice wrecked.
Phil rolls his eyes, tugging on a curl playfully. “My mum raised me right, I know how to give a man credit when credit is due.”
“Your mum raised you to give compliments to guys who are good at blowing you?” Dan asks sarcastically, that same smirk on his lips again.
Narrowing his eyes, Phil leans down and drags his fingers over Dan’s lips. “These are moving an awful lot, but not in the right way.” Unprompted, Dan’s mouth falls slightly agape, and Phil takes the opportunity to shove two fingers down into the wet warmth immediately. Dan’s eyes are wide, but he obediently begins sucking and bobbing his head. “There we go. Be a good boy and do it that way, okay?” He'd never fancied himself this bossy in bed, but here he was, being bossy and directive, but judging from the way Dan's eyes nearly roll back in his head, he doesn't mind.
Dan nods excitedly before sliding his mouth off of Phil’s fingers, settling back down between his legs to get back to work. Phil can’t help the soft noises falling from his lips as Dan works him to the edge, and when his orgasm hits a couple minutes later, it comes as a pleasant surprise. “Oh,” he gasps, tugging gently on Dan’s hair as he feels the feeling crash over him. “I’m-“ he tries to warn him, but Dan doesn’t catch what he’s trying to say, instead winding up with a mouthful. “Sorry,” Phil apologizes as he tries to catch his breath. “You can spit it out, I won’t care.”
The brunette gives him an apologetic smile, his mouth still full, as he slides off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Phil hears him spitting the contents out, followed by the sound of running water. He can’t even be offended honestly, he wasn’t the greatest at swallowing himself, and didn’t do it very often.
“Sorry,” Dan apologizes almost immediately upon walking back into the room, his smile one of guilt. “Haven’t learned to love the taste just yet.”
Phil laughs at that. “Mate, I don’t think I’ll ever love the taste, it’s fine.”
Dan crinkles his nose. “Don’t call me that, I just sucked your dick.”
Phil blinks. And then he promptly bursts into giggles. “Sorry, I just-“ he loses it again when he notices the indignant frown on Dan’s lips. “You just look so cute, all offended about that.”
“I’m not cute!” Dan protests.
Suppressing a smile, Phil shrugs. “Sure, whatever you say.” He tosses the sheet over himself then, not bothering with pulling his pants back on or anything. He felt loads more comfortable and confident than he had earlier, and he wasn’t about to lose that by retreating into his clothes. Unless his nakedness made Dan uncomfortable, of course. But judging by the way he too crawls under the blankets, naked aside from his cat t-shirt, Phil concludes he's not all that fussed about it.
“I’m tired,” Dan announces then, staring up at Phil as if it's his responsibility to change that.
Phil gives him a soft look. “I bet. And I hate to do this to you since you just sat down, but you still need to take your medicine.”
Dan groans. “Fuck. I forgot already.” He rolls over and looks up at Phil, his eyes wide and pleading and gorgeous. “Phil, I would be forever in your debt if you’d fetch my meds for me,” he says sweetly.
Phil responds with a snort. “I dunno, sounds like a rough deal. You get drugs and I’m stuck with you forever, or until I decide you’ve paid me back?”
Rolling his eyes, Dan’s mood seems to shift. “I know it’s a shit bargain, but I’m too lazy to get up.” He tries to force his casual, funny tone, but it falls flat, and Phil realizes he’s seriously annoyed about what Phil had said in jest.
“I was kidding, Dan,” Phil says gently. “I’d be honored to spend as much time with you as you’re willing to give.” He puts all the sincerity, all the honesty, that he can into those words.
Dan’s gaze falls down at this, and he fiddles with the corner of the pillowcase as a distraction. “Yeah, well…” He trails off. “Don’t be sappy,” he grouches.
Phil carefully reaches out and pets Dan’s curls. “I’m not. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’ve been nothing but lovely to be around, and I’ve been thrilled to spend the day in your company. Don’t sell yourself short, Daniel.”
A soft groan sounds and Dan’s rolling over to bury his head in Phil’s naked chest. “How do you exist?” He grumbles.
Phil grins. He can do the whole sarcastic, playful bit. Just maybe a little less direct this time. “Well you see, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-“ He begins.
Dan yelps at this, pulling his head away from Phil’s chest like he’s been burnt. “Oh my god! No! I don’t want to hear about that!”
Cackling, Phil can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to Dan’s full lips. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“That was horrible. I’m considering withdrawing all admissions of my affection for you,” Dan announces pretentiously.
Phil smiles softly at this, slowly running a finger along the shell of Dan’s ear. “You have affection for me?” He asks, his voice almost a coo.
Dan’s face goes a shade darker at this. “Not anymore,” he proclaims.
Pushing his face against Dan’s hair to hide his grin, Phil hums in disagreement. “No, I don’t think so. I think you like me a lot, actually. I think you fancy me a bit.”
“Mm, maybe,” Dan says, half-heartedly.
Phil smiles and presses his face closer to Dan’s, shifting so that his mouth hovers just over Dan’s ear. “Well guess what?”
Dan tries to feign nonchalance when he says, “What?”
“I fancy you a lot,” Phil whispers.
The shiver that runs over Dan’s spine is impossible to miss. “Yeah?” He asks.
“A whole lot more than I should fancy a stranger I met in an airport,” he admits. And honestly, it’s the first time he’s really let himself process it. Here he was, meeting a man in an airport of all places, and falling for him in the span of a day, as if he has any right to get that close that quickly. And yet, he didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like he’d known Dan forever, like there wasn’t a time that he hadn’t felt his heart beat faster at the short breaths he took, or the sight of those brown curls. It was insane, and maybe he was insane, but he felt so completely at home with Dan that he couldn’t imagine lying to the other man about how he felt.
“I don’t want to be a stranger you met at an airport,” Dan says quietly. His voice is so low Phil nearly doesn’t catch it, almost as if Dan hadn’t intended for him to hear.
His heart twists uncomfortably at those words. “No?” he asks.
“I wanna be more than that to you. I want…” Dan trails off, and his voice is wavering with uncertainty even when he finds the words. “I want to see where this goes. I don’t want to just be the guy you met at an airport and screwed around with in a hotel afterwards.” Phil opens his mouth to protest but Dan beats him to it. “See, I know you’re going to say I’m not that, but I want you to prove it.”
Phil pauses, trying to make sure Dan is finished before he tentatively asks, “How?”
Dan tilts his head so that he’s staring straight into Phil’s eyes, honey and caramel and chocolate drawing him in. “I want to date you. I want you to go on a date with me when we’re back in London, and I want to stay over at yours and have you stay over at mine and I want us to go to movies and dinner and be cheesy and lame and have sex and I want you to want to introduce me as someone besides the guy you met at an airport.”
His words are rushed and aren’t all coherent, but it’s a beautiful speech, and Phil’s heart is pounding by the end of it. It takes him a moment to figure out how to respond, and another to figure out how to make his mouth move again. “Okay. I hope you like horror movies and popcorn and cuddles because that’s what you’re getting yourself into.”
Dan nods, his face totally serious. “And sex. I like sex.”
Phil has to laugh at that and press another lingering kiss to Dan’s willing mouth. “And sex,” he mumbles. Dan brushes the tip of his tongue across Phil’s lips, but instead of opening his mouth to him, Phil pulls away a little. “I hope you like “boyfriend” too, because I’m particularly fond for that word.”
The sound Dan makes then is a cross between a gasp and a squeak, but Phil is quickly swallowing it with his own mouth, leaving very little room for argument or response of any kind.
And maybe they were stupid and naïve, and this would never work, but maybe they were willing to try and put in the effort anyway. And Phil knew there was more to Dan than what was meeting his eye, but so far, he was willing to accept every part he’d been willing to share. There would likely be other conversations, logistics on how they would see each other when they didn’t even know where in London the other lived, but it wasn’t anything a google map and some patience couldn’t solve.
And maybe it wouldn’t be perfect, as things rarely are, and this would all fall apart in a month. Or, maybe they would be as close to perfect as he could want. The likelihood of either was really just a gamble at this point, but that was something he was willing to try for.
Phil hated making mistakes. He hated being a failure.
But he hated the idea of giving up on a good thing before it had even begun even more.
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timetogoslumming · 7 years
Text
another fluffy little sprace oneshot for you! 
race finds out that spot missed out on a vital part of childhood. 
For the first few weeks that they were dating, Spot never saw Race’s apartment. It just made sense for them- Spot lived alone, and Race’s roommates could be a little bit intense. One evening, though, after they had gone out for pizza, Spot was clearly uncomfortable as they walked back toward his apartment.
“Don’t you live like, a block from here?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
Spot worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a minute. “Okay, I don’t want to tell you this-” he started.
Race looked down at him, concerned. “What is it?”
“I really have to use the bathroom,” Spot said. “Can we please just go back to your place tonight? I really don’t want to walk the rest of the way back to mine holding it.”
“Oh, my god. Fine.” They took a left at the corner and were quickly back to Race’s building. Spot stepped back while Race unlocked the door. “Just… sorry in advance about my roommates,” he started. “They’re kinda- anyway, they’re probably going to interrogate you.”
But his worries, as it turned out, were unfounded. The apartment was empty. Jack, he assumed had gone to Davey’s- he had been doing that a lot lately- and Albert just sort of disappeared sometimes. He would be gone for days at a time, then come back saying he had run out for a bagel. Race knew him well enough to know not to question it. Al would probably come up with a story about being abducted by aliens or something if he asked too many questions.
“My bathroom’s the one at the end of the hall,” Race said, pointing, and Spot walked, a little bit too quickly to be casual, toward it.
“You have a space shower curtain?” Spot yelled from inside.
“Yes! Don’t judge me!”
Race wandered aimlessly around the kitchen while he waited for Spot, eventually starting up the Keurig for a cup of coffee. Not too long after, the toilet flushed, the sink ran for a minute, and Spot emerged, looking much calmer. “Little late for coffee, isn’t it?” he asked.
Race shrugged. “No such thing as too late. Besides, caffeine calms me down.”
“Fair enough. Show me your room. I want to see if you’re as big of a nerd as I think you are.”
Race led Spot to his room and stood awkwardly in the doorway as Spot looked around at his various posters and photos on the wall. He occasionally asked who someone in a picture was, and Race would answer, but aside from that, it was mostly silent. Race had learned when they first got together that Spot liked to know his surroundings like the back of his hand. Unfamiliar spaces made him nervous, so he took the time to thoroughly explore every new place he found himself in. “Why do you have four calculators?” Spot asked, pointing at the stack of advanced graphing calculators on Race’s desk.
“In case three break,” Race replied, only half kidding.
Spot stopped at Race’s bookshelf, picking up a ratty teddy bear, which had once been white and was now a sort of greyish-brown. He held the bear up to Race with his eyebrows raised. “Really? You still have a teddy bear?”
Race made a grab for the bear, but Spot was faster and yanked it out of reach. “Fuck off,” Race said. “I got him when I was a baby.”
“It’s a him, huh?”
Race grabbed for the bear again, but this time, Spot let him have it. “Yes, he’s a him,” Race replied, smoothing the bear’s fur, which had gotten sort of patchy in old age. “His name is Barney, in case you were wondering. But seriously, everyone still has some kind of stuffed animal.”
“Not me,” Spot replied, taking a seat on the end of Race’s bed. “But then, I never really had any.”
“What do you mean?” Race asked absently as he carefully placed Barney the Bear back on his shelf.
“Never had like, a teddy bear or anything.”
Race spun around so fast that his neck cracked a bit. “What, never?” he asked. “Not even when you were little?”
Spot shrugged. “Nah.”
“How?”
“Well, when your mom is in prison and your dad thinks that kind of stuff is too sissy, you don’t get a whole lot of teddy bears.”
A pang of sadness hit Race straight in the heart. “That’s… really shitty. Every kid needs a teddy bear. Or something. I think Al had a stuffed fish, but still. Seriously, what are you doing tomorrow?”
“Uh… nothing?”
“We’re getting you a teddy bear.”
Spot shook his head. “We really don’t need to-”
“We’re going.”
The next day, after a long lie-in in bed and a massive breakfast at IHOP, Race dragged Spot to the mall, making a beeline for the Build a Bear Workshop. Spot stopped just outside, staring at the display of Pokemon in the window. “Race, I really don’t want to do this.”
“Too bad. Every kid needs a teddy bear,” Race replied, shoving Spot inside.
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Yeah. We’re making up for twenty-two years of lost time.”
Inside, Race pointed to the wall of stuffed animals, telling Spot to choose the one he liked best. Slowly, they walked along the line, occasionally picking up a bear to make a joke. “This one looks like you,” he said, gesturing to a garish tie-dyed cat.
“Shut up,” Race replied, picking up one that was meant to look like the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, but really just looked like a mistake. “This one looks like you.”
Finally, though, Spot settled on a classic teddy bear with fur the same color as Race’s hair, although neither of them made that connection out loud. An overly cheery teenage employee rushed over. “Are you ready to bring your bear to life?” she asked.
“Uh… sure,” Spot replied.
“Okay!” she enthused. “Come choose a heart for your friend!” She gestured to a huge bowl of red hearts.
“That’s… not necessary.” The employee started to protest, and Race nudged Spot. “Okay, fine.” He grabbed a heart at random.
“Great!” Race was beginning to suspect that the girl was a robot built by Build a Bear’s corporate headquarters. “Now warm the heart in your hands!” Spot hesitantly closed his hands around the red heart. “Good! And now whisper a wish to your bear’s heart.”
Spot jerked his head up. “You’re joking. Do I really look like the kind of guy who whispers wishes to little hearts? Who do you think-” “Dude,” Race said, interrupting him. “Will you just… be cool?”
“Fine,” Spot snapped. He brought the heart up to his hands. “I wish for cheap booze and good sex,” he whispered with a grin, quietly enough that Race and the employee couldn’t make it out.
“Now seal it with a kiss!” the girl said perkily. Spot bitterly gave the heart a quick kiss.
“What’d you wish for?” Race asked.
“Oh, no!” scolded the employee. “If he tells you, it won’t come true!” “Yeah, Race. I can’t tell you,” Spot confirmed with a smirk.
The poor girl helped them stuff the bear, but was quickly rebuked when she suggested that Spot give it a hug test to see if it was full enough, and then weakly suggested that they give the bear a bath.
Spot stared at her, slackjawed. “Give it a what?”
“A bath,” she replied, pointing toward a blue trough shaped vaguely like a dog groomer’s tub.
Spot held up the bear, which had just been stitched up. “This is a stuffed animal. It’s not real. I just bought it. Are you telling me this bear isn’t clean?”
“Spot,” Race hissed.
“It’s not really water,” the employee responded.
Spot nodded. “Okay, great. Can we pretend for a minute that I’m an adult and don’t want to give a stuffed animal an imaginary bath?”
The employee actually rolled her eyes, her robot exterior cracking. “Go pick out clothes or something,” she said dully, gesturing to a wall of clothes.
As soon as they were by the wall, and the employee had gone back to the register, Race nudged Spot. “Why are you so mean?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not mean,” Spot replied as he looked through tiny outfits. “This is stupid.” As he dug through the clothes, he froze and did a double take, looking back at Race. “Hey, look,” Spot said. “It’s your shirt.”
The tiny shirt he held up was weirdly similar to Race’s, although not identical. Race’s shirt was a diagram of Saturn, with arrows and captions pointing out various parts of the planet. The bear shirt was just a picture of Saturn. “I’m getting this.”
“Aw, so you can cuddle with me even when I’m not there?” Race teased.
Spot scowled. “Fuck off. No. It’s because this is stupid and you’re stupid.” He held the shirt up to the bear like he was trying it on. “Besides. I don’t cuddle.” Which, for the record, was the truth. Spot liked his space.
They shopped around for a while longer, before finally settling on an outfit, which was nearly identical to Race’s. After checking out with the employee, who by this point, was completely done with them, and after a quick apology to her from Race, they left, carrying a box shaped like a house.
“Want to walk around the mall a little?” Race asked.
“No,” Spot said quickly. “I don’t need anyone to see me carrying this shit around.”
Back at Spot’s apartment, they unboxed the bear. “Okay, well… cool,” Spot said awkwardly, letting it sit on the couch between them.
“Admit it,” Race urged. “You love it. You finally got your teddy bear.”
“Get out of my home.”
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Text
Friday Night
It’s Friday night. They’re nestled cozily on the dusty blue couch of his apartment with a bowl of cheap microwave popcorn in between them while watching some Hollywood chick flick on TV.
“I can’t believe I put you in charge of picking the movie for tonight. Not something I thought a lover of good stories would go for” He playfully states while stuffing a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth.
“Hey, you made me sit through an hour long documentary on how guitars are built last week.” Pointing an accusing finger to the orange head.
“Oh c’mon, you said you enjoyed it. Plus, it was way more interesting than watching three mean girls trying to outmean each other and see which one of them gets the boy next door to kiss them first.” He jokingly mocks.
Her lips curl into a frown, but keeps her eyes trained on the TV. She isn’t mad at him, he’s just always loved annoying the crap out of her since high school. The movie she picked is not even what she really wanted to watch. She partly just picked a bad chick flick to slightly annoy him out of his wits, and partly because she just wants to spend time with him. They’ve been having these Friday night hang outs every week since high school without fail. Even as professionals now. However, with the demands of work looming over them, she can feel that soon they won’t be able to have these as frequently anymore.
He is a blooming musician just as he has always dreamed of becoming and spends most his days (and nights) in his studio composing and producing songs. His studio is his safe haven, so he rarely, if not never, lets anyone inside it. Except her, of course, which she has always taken pride in. It’s like having a secret treehouse as kids, only with soundproof walls and instruments sprawled out in every corner, and crumpled music sheets everywhere.  
She’ll never forget the day she walked into their empty classroom for first period, except it wasn’t really empty. She almost didn’t notice him at first if it wasn’t for the low humming of his guitar. His hair was all scruffy back then and his bangs always covered his hazelnut brown eyes. He didn’t talk, much less acknowledged her sitting down at her desk which was situated right next to his. They sat there, without a word for about a week. It became a routine. He would pluck soft melodies on his guitar while she just sat there and listened. Until one fateful day, a day she sure as heck will never forget, when his guitar peacefully leaned against his desk, and her, being the queen of poor foot coordination and clumsiness, tripped over it sending all her books flying across the room and his guitar crashing to the floor piercing the air with the shrill cry of its strings. He sprung out of his seat, and she was sure that he was going to yell profanities at her for not looking where she was going, but to her surprise she felt a hand reach under her arm, pulling her up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his face was laced with genuine concern. “I-I’m okay.” She stuttered and she felt the heat rushing to her cheeks as her eyes met his. “Your guitar,” she gestured behind him. “I’m so sorry about your guitar. I’ll pay for the damage. I’m so sor—“ Before she could finish her sentence, the boy quickly cut her off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s pretty old anyway, and it has endured far worse. So, don’t worry.” He assured her with the sweetest smile plastered on his face. They started hanging out every day after that incident. Then the rest just went into blur and before they knew it, they became inseparable.
She jolts at the sudden jab of his index finger at her ribcage, almost tipping the bowl of popcorn off the couch. “What was that for?!” she shrieks.
“You were so quiet I almost thought you were upset for real.” He teases, still reaching over trying to poke her again.
“Well, I’m gonna be if you don’t stop. The popcorn bowl almost fell over because of you, and I swear I’m not going to spend the rest of the night picking popcorn off your living room floor or else you can spend next Friday night alone.” She half-heartedly threatens grabbing the bowl sitting between them and placing it on the coffee table to avoid any spillage from actually happening.
“If there are two things that I know for sure it’s that you can’t stay mad at me for too long, and you and I wouldn't dare break Friday night tradition over cheap spilled popcorn.” He moves closer, pulling his face up to hers. So close, their foreheads almost touch. Light dancing in his beautiful brown eyes. Heat prickles her cheeks so she pushes herself up from the couch hoping he wouldn’t notice
“I remember the days when you were quieter and only plucked your guitar.” A slight hint of annoyance in her voice as she makes her way to the restroom. “I need to pee.”
She isn’t annoyed with him, but more with herself. She splashes her face with cold water five times just to make sure the reds dotting her cheeks subside.
Sometimes she just doesn’t understand how and why he just has this massive effect on her. They have been friends for years and years, and they have gone through everything together. She was with him for his first ever band performance at school, screaming her lungs out cheering for him. When he got his first rejection letter from a recording company, she drank an unreasonable amount of beer with him (and she wasn’t a drinker at all) counting all the reasons why that company sucked and how it was their loss for rejecting him. When they were in college, he cancelled a huge gig which could’ve possibly guaranteed him his big break just so he could see her win her first award at a national story telling competition. He bought her a huge tub of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream and let her sob into his shirt over her first break-up because her douchebag of an ex-boyfriend cheated on her with some random girl in a forsaken bar downtown. It has always been them against the world, and somewhere along the way she fell in love with the messy orange-haired musician.
She knows it’s the most cliché thing ever, falling in love with the only guy best friend she ever had, but she also knows that it was bound to happen. It was all just a matter of time. If he felt the same, isn't a thought she likes to entertain, because she is sure that that is downright impossible.  
She dries her face with a white towel hanging beside the shower curtain, which strangely smells of his cologne. She catches herself taking in the musky whiff for a second too long and quickly puts the towel back. “Okay, stop being a creep.” She lectures herself in her head and saunters back into the living room where she finds him back on his side of the couch, slouched and a half-empty glass of Coke in hand.
“You’re back. I was about to check up on you in case you accidentally got flushed down the toilet.” The smirk on his face unforgiving.
SMACK! The sound of her palm’s forceful impact with his thigh rings throughout the living room. “OW!” he roars, clutching his thigh. “What was that for?!”
“Equal exchange. A slap on the thigh for a jab to my side.” She jeers at him looking smug, resuming into a cross siting position next to him.
“I distinctly remember you being more caring and less violent too, you know.” He continues poking fun at her while massaging his thigh.
“Pain is caring, now shut up, I can't concentrate on the movie.” She deadpans.
“Never heard of that saying before, but okay. Whatever you say, my dear.” He sighs through a wide Cheshire cat grin.
My dear. Her heart flutters in her chest as the words escape his mouth. He would occasionally call her by sweet names you would only address a lover with, especially when he’s in the mood to for teasing her to no ends. There really isn’t much to it, but damn it, she loves hearing them from him. She feels a sudden rush of emotions bubble up in her belly as well as new hot flashes stinging her cheeks anew. She scoots a bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder, grateful that this is perfectly normal for them.
=====
He’s right. Watching the documentary on guitar ensembles really was more interesting than this: Unpopular nerd falls in love with the popular jock, jock ignores her until one day, she de-nerds herself and becomes popular, engages with some nasty basics, gets into endless trouble, then jock comes to save her and tells her that he loves her for who she really is, she becomes a nerd again, they kiss and live happily ever after. Ugh.
The movie drones on for what feels like forever, but she doesn’t complain despite rolling her eyes every ten minutes and internally scoffing at the lack of substantial plot the movie has if it means that she can be this “intimate” with him. They both sit in silence, her head still lying against his shoulders. She loves this. She loves every minute of them being this close. For a brief moment, she closes her eyes, smiling to herself basking in this beautiful moment.
The TV screen blackens and the credits float onto the screen. Both sit there with only the movie’s upbeat pop (and surprisingly catchy) OST filling the air. Finally, he’s the first one to break the silence. He let’s out a loud yawn, stretching his hands towards the ceiling behind her. Sparks trickle up her spine as she feels one of his hands come down resting on her back. For a while it just stays put, then he starts lightly scratching her back in an up-down motion just like you would do to a baby, trying to lull it to sleep. He knows that she likes light back scratches (as weird as that sounds), and that they make her sleepy too.
“I can’t believe I sat through this whole chick flick.” He says lazily.
“It was cheesy,” she adds. Instantly, she feels his head turn towards hers.
“Oh, so you finally admit that it’s cheesy, huh?” The grin evident in his voice.
“Oh, shut up.” She grumbles to which he only responds with an outburst of laughter. The kind of laughter that comes from the deepest pits of your stomach.
His laughter slowly fades, letting silence seep its way back in. The credits disappear and the TV screen stays black. Neither of them move. She waits for him to reach for the remote and change channels or go for a pee break himself, but he doesn’t. His hand is still on her back moving in gentle stroking motions. Maybe she should move too, or at least say something to cut the atmosphere. But there is nothing awkward about this whole situation that needs to be broken. They sit in complete comfortable silence, and she loves it. She figures that you don’t always have to talk to be able to enjoy each other’s company. To her, the night couldn’t be any more perfect than this.
=====
With her eyelids growing heavier, she almost dozes off when she feels the fingers on her back shifting movements. For a second she thinks he’s idly drawing random shapes against her back. He draws them slowly and with careful precision as if he wants her to figure out what he is trying to draw. Midway through his doodling, she realizes that it’s not shapes he’s drawing, but letters. The same ones over and over again. She holds her breath determined to decipher his scribbles.
He’s done writing. His hand lay flat on her shoulder, unmoving.
It couldn’t be. Her breath hitches while pins and needles prick her fingers as a tsunami of emotions crash down on her as she tries to make sense of what he had just written on her back:
I love you
She doesn’t know what to make out of these three words. He must be messing around with her again. The realization dawns to her that it’s her turn to do something; maybe even say something. But what? How does she just get up and look at him? Fear slowly creeps up on her. Fear that all of this isn’t real. Fear that he’ll mischievously grin at her and say that it’s just a joke to get her attention. Her heart hammers violently against her insides and her head feels dizzy. What will she say? Will she even say anything at all?
Slowly, cautiously, she lifts her head off his shoulders and looks at him. She’s trying to remember what words are. There is tension; so much tension between them right now, and she doesn’t know how or what to say to loosen it.
“Say something. Anything. Please.” She internally pleads. But nothing.
She starts thinking that everything really was just a mistake. A cruel joke to get her attention because he sure got it. It was too good to be true anyway. Defeated and disappointed, she bows her head low when suddenly, he speaks up making her glance back up at him.
“I mean it.” His voice as soft as his face against the dim light of the living room, but he’s still not looking at her.
She is completely flabbergasted. Her head is buzzing trying to process what just happened; what he just said. Everything seems so ludicrous to her that she wants to laugh and cry at the same time. How do you reach to this? More importantly, what do you say?
“W-What?” is the only thing she manages to say, coming out more like a whimper than a question.
His jaw clenches and he swallows hard. “I…” he starts. “I’ve never been good with words. At least not saying them out loud.” He tells the blank TV screen in front of him. “I mean, I can write lyrics, crack jokes, and hold a fairly decent conversation, but when it comes to my emotions I fail.” His voice full of pain and frustration, and a little hint of… anger?
He nonchalantly runs a hand through his orange locks. Some pieces fall right back into place while some of them stand up messily. He lowers his head with his hand still atop of it. His chest puffs up slowly, taking in a deep, deep breath then exhales just as slow. He drops his hand and finally turns towards her. Their eyes lock and for a brief moment she forgets to breathe. Her hands cold and slippery against the hem of her white shirt, bracing herself for what is to come next.
“I love you.” Just like that, the words come tumbling out: raw and sincere.
There is no stopping the balloon of euphoria growing in her chest and the butterflies in her belly. The world around them goes into a blur while they sharpen into focus. She feels her face flush into a pink color again, but this time she doesn’t care that he can see it. And she doesn’t care that her mouth hangs just a tad bit open. She’s too damn happy to care about all of that, because the boy whom she had loved in secret all these years just told her that he loved her (too).
There is nothing she can possibly say now that will properly express the intensity of how she feels for him. Sudden courage grips her, making her respond the only way she knows how. She leans into him, closing whatever gap there is left between them. His lips warm and soft against hers, just like he has always imagined them to be. A small pang of fear tugs at her gut. What if she moved too fast? Was she too eager? Did she ruin the moment? Just as she’s about to pull away from him, his lips part ever-so slightly returning her kiss. It’s slow yet steady and full of longing.
After a breathless eternity, they pull away from each other only so much that their foreheads still touch. Both gasping for air, he gently cups her face into his hands, tracing its lines with his thumbs. His milky eyes latch on to hers in anticipation and want. She’s trying to scramble for all the right words in her vocabulary to describe the boy in front of her, but all she can come up with is beautiful. His soul, his heart, his face, his… everything! She loves him. Damn, how she loves him!
With her head in a daze and her lips still quivering from the kiss, she holds on to his hands which are still caressing her face, and in almost like a whisper she says, “I love you, too.”
His eyes light up in a flash at her words and his lips stretch out into the widest smile she has ever seen him make. She lets out a small giggle at the sight of him and without a hitch, they close the distance between them again. His hands travel from her face down to her waist pulling her body closer to his as she locks her arms around his neck, the insufferable yearning for each other evident with each sigh escaping them.
She can’t believe it. It all feels like a dream, and if it was, she doesn’t want to wake up from it. The scruffy-haired boy she met in first period years ago, who spoke through melodies on his guitar strings, who became her everything, loves her back.
 With only the sound of their low breaths against each other’s lips, there is nothing she wants more than to stay in this moment and live in it forever.
 ____________________________________________________________
Hey everyone!
I’ve been writing poems, or practicing how to write poems (better) rather, that I kind of put story telling onto the back burner for a long time. So to slowly get back in shape, I decided to write little drabbles here and there as well as practice writing out scenes that I find very challenging. 
I found it a bit difficult write the kissing scene because a) I haven’t really written kissing scenes before, and 2) I really wanted to get it right and not rush it.
Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy this one and I’ll really try to write drabbles more often. :)
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ahumbletinylover · 7 years
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So I figured...
I'd finally introduce y'all to my characters. For now, we have Apollo and Albert. Apollo is a giant while Albert is his tiny. Apollo is the Captain of the Royal Guard for his kingdom, as well as the prince and son of the Queen. He is stubborn, stronger than twenty average men, has a strong will and is willing to give his life for his family and people... Also a big softie. I am talking of a 6'3" man who throws couches, yes, sofas, for fun and can lift boulders and throw them for kicks and giggles. He's missing an eye due to a wild cat attack, and has a Phoenix companion named Skylar that saved his life from that cat, and he saved her life beforehand. And yet he is the kindest, most compassionate, romantic, and gentle person one could meet if you caught him on the right day. That's exactly what Albert did. Albert used to be 5'4" before the "shrink", now he stands at a strong height of... 4.3". Unlike Apollo, Albert is shy, somewhat cowardly, nervous, he stutters, and is not the most confident person. He isn't very fit, and is rather jumpy. He is a big nerd, loving classic video games and science altogether, his notebook never leaves his side (because it's full of rambles and notes about his massive crush on Apollo) and he just wants to please others. Apollo loves him to pieces. Most who know Apollo are rather shocked that he could be as gentle as he is with his little lover, but he is. Gently holding, caressing, and kissing Albert are some of his favorite things to do. He can be so gentle as to hold and give Albert his tiny glasses without even bending them. Albert soaks up the attention, and dutifully gives Apollo all the love he can muster, and to Apollo, it's quite a bit. Tiny kisses, hugs, and cuddles are all Albert needs to do to prove that he loves Apollo as much as he loves Albert. Apollo has three scars over his missing eye that Albert always gives extra attention to, gently kissing them to assure Apollo that all is well and that he is here to chase away his fears. Apollo has brown hair that he does brush, but perching high on some rocks every day gives him a signature windblown look. Apollo's remaining green eye is very expressive, it doesn't matter what the rest of his face says, that eye will tell you how he really feels. Wielding a bow and arrow, Apollo is quite the good shot despite his missing eye, but his bird companion, Skylar, holds his targets to keep them from fleeing while he shoots. His complexion is pale and he has the amazing ability to... Not grow facial hair. He just can't. Does he care? Not at all. Albert has very pale skin with ginger hair, brown eyes, glasses, and some freckles. He's also has a bit of a belly, but it's not often noticed. His short cut curls are something Apollo adores, he'll nuzzle his big nose into Albie's hair all day if he can. Apollo has rage issues. He will fight anything, including tree roots he trips over. Albert often has to keep him calm, lest he uproot a giant oak out of anger. One of Apollo's policies is never to threaten someone weaker than him or anyone who doesn't deserve it. If he gets into a fight with Albert (really, really rare and usually only something minor) Apollo will sit down and either lay his head down on a table to be eye to eye with him or simply lay down somewhere. Never will he tower over Albert or throw anything if he gets into an argument with him. That's a big no-no. Which Albert loves about him, he will never abuse his strength by using it on him or anyone else when it's uncalled for. Albert got Apollo into video games rather easily, the man loves adventure games. Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, Legend of Zelda and more are his favorites. (Albert's favorites are Sonic and Pokemon) At the end of the day, Apollo will gently take Albert into his hands and curl up into bed with him after a long day, keeping him safe and close until morning. Hope you like em.
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