#and phil was very closed off and quiet. kinda intimidating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

capt-spooki3 · 3 years ago

Note

Hey hi hello, how are you doing, i miss you and am .5 seconds away from spamming all your work with likes and reblogs 💕☺️

So I've been thinking (uh oh).... Being close with Tommy and tubbo and telling them ur terrified to meet techno cause mans is so scary to you, and they tell him you're scared cause they're little shits. A d cut to like a few days later where you have to talk to him for smthn and he's making fun of youand teasing you relentlessly cause he knows you were visibly nervous to meet him, but he's being really nice besides the teasing. Thoughts? Interpretations?

You don't even have to respond, just know that I love you and your stuff and hope you have the best day because you deserve nothing less◖⚆ᴥ⚆◗

( ˘ ³˘)♥

am i positive if you're asking me for a fic? No, not entirely.

Am i going to write you one anyway because you're so sweet? Yes absolutely and now presenting:

My Unexpected Tutor

Platonic college au!Technoblade and Y/n

(plus besties with the rest of the sbi ofc 😌)

(Hope this is okay, i just took my own interpretation of it and changed it just a little👌)

Warnings: cursing, teasing, nervousness(idk)

3.3k works

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With the final bell ringing and college classes ending for the day, you snatched up your bag and book you’ve read off and on that week before heading over to the courtyard that was near the on-campus dorms. Stopping by a vending machine first to grab a drink then seating yourself on a bench and getting comfortable while you wait for your company to arrive.

“Yeah! And that’s- HA! That’s when Wilbur just… oh!-” The nearing sound of Tommy’s voice cut off along with the softer laughing from Tubbo. You were very obviously engrossed in your book, but now you just feigned reading as you listen closely to the sound of slow footsteps nearing behind your bench. The two of them were horrible about being sneaky since you could easily hear hushed laughs as they desperately tried keeping each other quiet.

Right as you heard them stop moving, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself before turning around suddenly and lunging at them over the back of the bench with a half effort grab at Tommy’s extended hand, and yelling. Tommy screamed back, stumbling back a few paces and Tubbo just stumbled before backing up to the bench and busted out laughing.

“Ey what the hell!” He scoffed despite not being able to hold back his growing smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll remember that bitch, I’m gonna get you back.” he walked over to you and sat on the other side of the bench, giving you a hard glare when you laughed a little bit though it was mostly from Tubbo’s hysterical laughter. He took a deep breath and calmed himself so he could jump over the back of the bench and sit between you and Tommy.

The two boys were your underclassmen, being freshmen while you were a sophomore. The three of you met in your coding class. You were there mostly to get your English degree and major in said area, but you figured while you had the opportunity you would take classes on things you didn’t know much about. There, you met Wilbur, a senior and Tommy’s oldest brother, and he helped you quite a bit with understanding bits of coding that were a bit too confusing for you at first and were quickly becoming friends with him. That was until Tommy entered the picture. First, you just saw him as Wilbur’s chaotic younger brother who just happened to be in the coding class as well but after some insisting that you get to know him from Wilbur, you hung out one weekend in the library. One weekend turned to two then almost every weekend once he introduced you to Tubbo as well and you all had become a true trio.

You got to know Tommy’s family pretty well. His single father, Phil, who was just like a second parent to you now, and Wilbur who acted just like the older brother you never had. You knew them well despite having known them all for less than a year. The only hang-up is when it came to Tommy’s other brother. You knew he had an actual name, but only knew him by his nickname since that’s what everyone referred to him by. That would be Technoblade. The two of you had a couple of literature classes together and the fact that he was only one grade above you, you’d figure that you could befriend him with ease. Now, it’s not like he was big and scary, he was more tall and lanky but he was smart and he had some vibe around him that just petrified you. You couldn’t ever build up the courage to be around him which made it quite an issue since you were best friends with his brother, though this wasn’t an issue you had ever brought up to any of them.

“So how did classes go for you guys today?” You asked as you pulled one of your legs up onto the bench and closed your book which you held close to your chest.

“Fucking shitty! I got a fuck ton of extra work, like I know it’s college and the weekend but let me live.”

“We got one essay to write, it’s two pages long.” Tubbo reiterated with a smile while Tommy grumbled and leaned his head back so he was looking up at the sky. “What about you Y/n?”

“It wasn’t bad, I don’t have any extra work other than a bit of coding to do. Oh speaking of, Tommy?” You reached your foot over and kicked his leg to get his attention, only continuing when he was looking at you. “Is Will gonna be free at all? ‘Cause I need some help with this stuff.”

Tommy perked up a bit, sitting up to get his phone out. “Oh you're right, I actually need help with it too.” He mumbled while texting and staring at the screen as he waited for a reply. “Uhh okay so he says… I’m visiting some friends so I won’t have time… blah blah uh but ask Techno, I heard he’s pretty good at coding. Nice! That’s perfect, you can just come over to my house and-”

“Ah, you know what- I actually think I’m okay.” You quickly interrupted him, pulling your laptop out of your bag to aimlessly scroll through the assignment you were given. “It can’t even be that hard I’m sure… I can figure it out.” You said with as much confidence as you could muster despite knowing full well you’ll be completely lost as soon as you try to start on the work.

“Come on, we both know that’s a lie, you're so shit at this stuff.” He said light-heartedly and watched you ‘work’. “Seriously, just come over. I’m sure Techno is good at this stuff, if anything we can pay him to do the work.”

“It’s fine- really. I think I’ll just wait for Monday, I can ask Wilbur for help then.” You closed your laptop, keeping your gaze on it for a moment before looking over at Tubbo and Tommy who were giving you both a puzzled look. “What?”

“You don��t…” Tubbo started to speak but Tommy pushed him back with an arm on the chest so he could lean over to look at you closer.

“You don’t have a crush on Techno, do you?” He said and squinted at them as if disgusted by the thought.

“What!? No!” You sat up taller and looked at him, baffled that he resorted to that.

“Well, then what the hell is the problem! Just come over and he can teach us!”

“I just… he’s kinda…” You grew flustered and found a loss for good words as you realized you were going to admit this. “He’s scary.”

Tommy busted out laughing and wheezed hard, doubling over as he coughed and laughed some more, stumbling over words as he tried to talk but was laughing too hard. Even tubbo who was trying to hold back, joined Tommy which only made them bounce off each other in their hysterics.

“Wha- I’m serious! Do you two not think he’s intimidating!?” You looked at both of them desperately as you could feel the heat that had risen to your cheeks.

“He’s literally-” Tubbo’s laughter interrupted him. “He’s a nerd! How the hell is he scary?” He settled down a bit and nudged Tommy to get him to calm down too, luckily he got his fit of laughter out.

“Oh my god, no I’ve got to go home now.” He grabbed his backpack that had been discarded behind the bench and looked at you once more before laughing more. “Scared of Techno- oh my god. That's good, that’s a good one. Bye bitches!” He saluted both of you before running off.

“Tommy I swear to god if you tell anyone I will deck your shit!!” You stood up, holding your laptop in hand, to yell at him but just stood there defeated once he turned a corner around a building. Tubbo got up beside you, laughing as he put his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“I wish I could give him the benefit of the doubt… but he’s gonna tell Techno. And Wilbur. And Phil for sure.”

“Yeah... I’m sure he will. I’m going to my dorm, I’ve got to call my mom.”

“Aww-” You put your hand over his mouth, but took it away as soon as he shut up so he wouldn’t lick your palm.

“Shut- I don’t wanna hear shit from you too. Anyway, get home soon and don’t get kidnapped.” You turned away to put your laptop and book into your backpack and zipped it up before pulling it over one shoulder. You looked back at Tubbo and put your fist up to him.

“I’ll kick them in the balls, don’t worry.” He laughed a little and bumped his fist to yours and walked backward a few paces, waving at you. “Tell your mom I said hi!”

You waved back at him and stood to wait and watch him walk off along the stone path until he was fully out of sight to make your way to your dorm, which was right in the courtyard area.

Monday came around and with the school day partially over, you made your way to your coding class. You of course didn't end up doing the assigned homework even though you gave it a good try and just decided to rely on Wilbur's help.

You walked into class and took in a deep breath, it was always cool and smelt of coffee since the teacher brewed a cup before your class every day. Making your way over to your usual computer you looked over to see Tommy sitting in your spot beside Wilbur and chatting to him. You guessed he heard you coming or saw Wilbur look your way because he looked back and grinned wide which never meant good.

"Ey look at who it is! Wonderful seeing you again, how was your weekend?"

"Fine." You said, looking down at him and kicking his foot. "I don't like how you're acting, what the hell did you do?"

He just feigned innocence and looked offended that you could assume such a thing. "Me? Me!?" He leaned forward, hand gracefully on his chest. "I cannot believe you right now, I'm hurt Y/n! Truly hurt."

You scoffed with an eye roll and sat on the other side of Wilbur since the seat was free. As soon as you set your bag down and went to turn toward the two, Wilbur was already facing you and leaning on the desk area for the keyboard in a way that looked like he needed to say something in secret.

"You good?"

He just waved you down and you leaned forward to listen. "You're not… actually afraid of Technoblade are you?"

"Tommy you little shit!" You jumped up, nearly hitting Wilbur but he moved back in time. Tommy laughed and fled to the other side of the room where he normally sat so you just grumbled and took your seat.

"Well?"

"Is no one else? He's intimidating, I feel like he'd call me out on all my insecurities if I inconvenienced him. And THEN he would hold me at knifepoint till I left him alone."

Wilbur snorted and hung his head as he softly laughed, you reached over and hit his arm before leaning closer to whisper. “I’m serious Wilbur! He scares me!”

He looked back up at you with the most amused look. “Come on, you can’t be friends with this family without knowing techno. Honestly. Talk to him today. You two have the same literature class at the end of the day right?” He asked as he sat up and leaned back into his chair to turn his computer on and log into the coding website.

“I mean yeah but- what does that have to do with anything.” You asked, but Wilbur didn’t reply as he just stared at his screen so you leaned forward to get into his peripheral vision. “Will, what does that have to do with anything? I’m not talking to him, I hope you know that.”

You were wrong. Nearing the end of your literature class, you sat there listening to the teacher while completely lost on the assignment. Usually, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue because you would just give it the best attempt you could and see where you messed up at the end to better understand the work. It wasn’t the best tactic but you liked it better than having to ask for help. But now, this was a big and grade-determining assignment, not one you could afford to flunk.

The class was given five minutes to start on or look over the work at the end of the class. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your paper at a loss, and listened to the sound of people moving around the class near you. You didn’t try to look up since you assumed it was friends going to sit together and gossip. That was until you noticed someone took the seat beside you and shuffled a bit closer. Pulling the paper away from your face to look, you froze instantly upon locking eyes with Technoblade who was smiling lightly. You had never seen him this close, the most notable thing was his dyed light pink hair that had grown out brown roots and you could even see in his smile how his top and bottom canine teeth were a bit longer than normal and looked like he had small fangs and tusks.

He pushed his glasses up before crossing his arms and leaning forward on his desk. “Hey so I know you’re terrified of me, but it looks like you’re having a bit of an issue.” You opened your mouth to speak but were just met with a loss for words and just averted your eyes, continually glancing back at him for a moment as you were unsure what to do. He snorted lightly, bringing his hand up to stifle his laugh, and cleared his throat. “Yeah sorry for bein’ so big and scary but I can help ya. Come one, show me what you are confused with Y/n.”

“You- you know my name?” You looked right at him finally to which he raised an eyebrow at you quizzically.

“Well yeah. Did you really expect me not to? You’re besties with both of my brothers and my dad loves having you over. I was just waiting for you to say hi to me.” He leaned back, fidgeting with a ring with his hands. “Didn’t think you’d actually be scared of me, thank Tommy for snitching. He talked about it all weekend.”

You groaned, leaning forward to run your hands over your face and sigh, swearing that you’d smack him once school was out.

“Oh shi-” You looked at Techno and he was checking the time on his phone. “Hey, class is about to end. You’re not gonna be busy are you?”

“Uh… not, no I’m not.”

“Great.” He got up, moving the desk back to its original place and trotting over to grab his bag, and looking back to you. “Get your stuff and meet me at the south entrance, we can work on it back at my house.” And without giving you a chance to try to object, he called to the teacher saying that he was going to leave a minute early to get his stuff together since he rented a locker a bit away from the classroom and the teacher waved him off.

Reluctantly, you went back to your dorm which was close to where you had class. You dropped off unneeded books and grabbed a granola bar from a box you kept in your room then headed toward the entrance Techno told you to meet him at. And of course, walking up the sidewalk to the doors you saw him there sitting on a bench with his bag beside him. He saw you and jumped up, waving you over to him as he started walking immediately. While you were still behind him, you sent a picture to Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur of him walking in front of you and adding the caption ‘i did it :P’.

The two of you chatted while you walked through the neighborhood and despite light teasing on how scary he was, he was easy to talk to and you had a lot in common with him. It was a shame you hadn’t taken the initiative to talk to him before. In no time, you were walking through the door after him into the familiar home where Phil greeted you with a surprised but happy look and offered snacks which Techno graciously took before heading to his room.

To your surprise, Technoblade is the best tutor you have ever had. He is attentive and incredibly patient when trying to figure out where you are having struggles and he’s smart. Like he knows every single bit of what is supposed to be brand new information from the class. Not even two hours into him helping you, you understood the assignment completely and you both spent the next three hours sitting on his bed and working together. You joked with him and he held the same energy while keeping the focus on working and even swapped laptops with him to check it over for each other.

You broke your gaze from the endless lines of text on your laptop screen to look at the window and seeing the orange sky around trees and over top of houses that indicated the setting sun. “Oh my gosh!” You scrambled off the bed, carefully stuffing papers back into your bag. “I didn’t even realize what time it was- Technoblade thank you a million for helping me. I appreciate it so much, but I need to get back to my dorm! I promised my roommate I’d help her cook dinner tonight.” You grabbed your laptop off of the bed and put it into your bag, closing it all up quickly.

Slinging it over your shoulder and adjusting it, you turned to make your way out of the room but you were stopped by a tug and looked back to see Techno holding onto your bag and looking displeased. “Not yet.”

“Wha- I need to go though-”

“It’s a tradition in this house to hug anyone before they leave, you should know that from my dad.” He let go and opened his arms up to you.

You turned to him and tilted your head a little. “You’re joking…”

He just smiled smugly and waited. You glanced at the doorway but gave in and closed the bit of distance, hugging him to which he returned snugly and spoke softly to you. “You’re a good person. I’m glad to have gotten to know you and I hope you’ll come back. I promise I’m not all that bad.” With that, he slowly let go and patted your arm before gently shoving you toward the doorway and plopping down on his bed. “Have a good night!”

“Uh.. yeah, you too!” You said back, still surprised by the exchange. His words swam through your mind as you went to leave the house, hugging Phil on your way out and wishing him a good night as well. Finally checking your phone on the walk home, you found a supportive and proud text from Wilbur, a dirty joke from Tommy, and something in between from Tubbo.

You laughed to yourself, amused by the differences in the messages. It was times like these that you most found appreciation for the three. Mentally you had to correct yourself though. The whole family was good. This you can say for sure now.

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greaterspawnislands · 3 years ago

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red eggs and ham: chapter ten

x . cracks in the keratin

chapter 12/17

summary: Ranboo can't be responsible for yet another failure. He can't fail. He won't fail. He won't disappoint anyone else.

link in the notes :D

They left each other on the bridge between houses, squeezing each other’s hands before separating.

“Tommy said that he was snooping through Phil’s things and he actually found something that might be helpful in this whole, you know, Egg business,” Tubbo had told him early that morning as they managed to scrape together some kind of routine to get ready.

“I need to go talk to Technoblade,” Ranboo had admitted tightly as they had laced up their boots and made sure Michael’s coat fit snugly. “I’m not very good with… grief, I guess? But I doubt he’s going to talk to any of you guys, and I think we kind of need him in action.”

Tubbo had laughed as they walked across the field, hoods up to shield them from the still-falling snow. “Yep, that’s going to be on you, boss man.”

And now they stood on the snow covered bridge between their two houses and tasks. Ranboo pressed a kiss to Michael’s forehead as he dawdled, rocking back and forth on his heels until Tubbo shoved him with his free hand, laughing. “Get out of here, dude! We’ll be around if he, I don’t know, defenestrates you or something.”

“Well, at least the snow will be a decent landing,” Ranboo murmured, watching a few big snowflakes drift down to land on his stiff bandages.

His husband grinned. “There you go, that’s the spirit!”

“You’re still paying for my medical bills,” Ranboo said jokingly as he lingered with his hand on the doorknob.

“Nope!” Tubbo said. “I’m broke. I don’t even have a home, I think all my riches were probably swallowed by the Egg. Hey, do you think the Egg likes to eat valuables? Maybe we should get some of yours and-”

Ranboo turned the handle. “Wow, suddenly I feel so much more inclined to go in here, goodbye!” With a swift movement, Ranboo slid his body through the open door and shut it behind him, muffling Tubbo’s laughter until that too faded, leaving Ranboo in the silence of the cabin.

The fire hadn’t been stoked, leaving the cabin so cold that Ranboo didn’t even bother to take off his cloak as he walked through the dark rooms. All the mugs had been left exactly where they had been last night; two still-full mugs of cold tea still sat on the table to Ranboo’s right.

Upstairs, Ranboo could just hear the sounds of a piglin snuffling, the barest confirmation that Techno hadn’t fled in the night to do something rash. Still, the idea of going to face the piglin without any words prepared gave Ranboo great hesitation, so he stalled even longer by picking up the mugs around the house, dumping what was left of their contents in the basin to drain. Stains clung to the mug in rings, and though Ranboo couldn’t figure out how to scrub the stains out without burning his hands in the water, he eventually managed to pour warm water into the mugs themselves and leave them to soak as over his head, a floorboard creaked.

By the time Ranboo turned his back to the basin, Technoblade had descended the ladder, and the two of them stood across from each other, quiet breaths barely breaking the silence.

Techno was the first to move, crouching down in front of the fire to scrape the dying ashes from it before adding fresh logs and sparking the flame once more. “What’re you doing here, Ranboo?” It wasn’t angry as it had been last night upon finding all the others. It was a simple, tired question, weighed down by the emptiness that hung in the air between them.

It felt too horribly familiar. Phil’s absence was so easy to dismiss as just another one of his frequent trips of exploration or hours spent away in his basement underneath his cabin. But the knowledge of why Phil wasn’t the one who was helping clean Techno’s house, that it wouldn’t be Techno and Phil coming up with a plan to fix this whole mess, sat restless in Ranboo’s chest like an open wound, painful and festering.

“Um, a, well, a few reasons, really.” Ranboo cleared his throat, barely stopping himself from clasping his injured hands together. “But I mean, I think, the most important thing is-- are you okay?”

“Yep,” Techno said stoutly.

Ranboo took a deep breath. And pressed.

“Are you sure?” he said hesitatingly. “I- I can’t imagine it’s- that it’s easy, right now, not- not knowing where Phil is.”

Techno’s broad shoulders shrugged. “Oh, I mean, we know where he is. He’s with the Egg.”

Ranboo’s brows furrowed. “Doesn’t that… I mean, aren’t you worried for him?”

“Nope,” the piglin responded, far too quickly. “I’ll find him again. We always find each other, that’s kind of how me and Phil roll.”

“Right…” Ranboo trailed off, unsure how to press. Techno was still facing away from him, poking listlessly at an already roaring fire that was gradually warming up the room. Ranboo unclasped his cloak. “But what about, like, the Egg stuff. If he’s been- I mean, I don’t really know what they did to get those people to go all, um, eggy, but what about that? I- do you know how to, I guess, cure someone of that?”

“Phil was lookin’ at some stuff before we- before we left, the other night,” Techno finally turned, the light of the fire casting the front of his body in a backlit shadow. Ranboo’s body stilled at the barest note of trembling in Techno’s voice, though his firm stature and expressionless face nearly gave nothing away. “I’d have to look through it again, but it seems like it’ll have somethin’ to do with a totem of undying to separate them from the Egg’s influence. That is, unless the Egg is destroyed first. Maybe.”

“We’re operating on a lot of maybes here, aren’t we?” Ranboo responded dejectedly, casting his mind back to his basement vault as he tried to count the number of totems he had down there. “I mean, what if that- doesn’t work? What if once we destroy the Egg, we can’t bring them back to normal? We don’t even know how to destroy the Egg yet, I mean, yeah, we haven’t even gotten there yet, holy crap, we have so much to- to figure out, and, and-”

“Ranboo.” Techno’s voice was sharp and brittle, jerking Ranboo’s chin up from where he had begun to fold into a closed-off posture, mind swimming with nonsensical ramblings. “We can’t- you gotta stop thinkin’ like that, man, alright? We’re gonna be able to get Phil back.”

It was spoken with such conviction that Ranboo wanted to believe him. He suspected Techno wanted to believe himself, too.

“Okay.” He exhaled heavily, eyes darting around the cabin to avoid Techno’s gaze. “Right, so, there’s- we have to figure that stuff out, for sure, and then, I mean, we have to find Phil and- oh.” A realization struck him, and Ranboo’s eyes flew wide. “To use- to use a totem of undying on him, he’s- he’s gonna have to die.”

“Yep,” Techno bit out, hand flexing at his side.

“But he’s- I mean, Phil-” Ranboo’s mouth opened, and shut.

“Yep.”

“Oh boy,” Ranboo quipped with a trembling voice.

Techno’s expression was grim, jaw clenched and posture stiff. Despite knowing that it wasn’t out of any kind of fury toward him, Ranboo nearly took a step back as Techno crossed the room, the aura of intimidation rolling off of the warrior nearly too much to handle.

But as he got closer, Ranboo’s tightly drawn shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly. There was little anger in his sharp eyes. He just looked tired. And, for a brief moment, such a small flash that Ranboo barely caught it, the imposing piglin looked worried, more uncertain than Ranboo had seen him look ever before.

“You know…” Techno looked out the window, where snow was still piling up in drifts outside, slowly rising up the windowsill. “I kinda keep thinking that he’s just going to come back. I mean, it’s Phil, right? He’s-” Techno’s voice cut off, and he let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, man. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, yeah, I mean that- that makes sense,” Ranboo stammered. “I was thinking something similar, actually. And I mean,” he tripped over his words, in a rush to get them out before he could think better of it. “Who’s to say he won’t, you know? I mean, you’re right, it’s- it’s Phil. Maybe he already figured out how to get out and he’s on his way back now.”

Techno chuckled, something dry and sad and Ranboo knew neither of them were believing his words. “It’s alright, Ranboo,” he said at last, shifting from the window and turning back to Ranboo. “Phil and I, we’ve been on opposite sides before, but we always manage to make it back.”

“Really?” Ranboo tilted his head, vaguely remembering phrases tossed around between the two, vague mentions of empires and centuries long past.

“Yep. But that’s a story for another day. I guess, if we’re waitin’ to see if Phil somehow shows up before chargin’ after him ourselves, we’ve got work to do in the meantime.” Techno stretched as he spoke, large arms rising near the ceiling of the cabin.

Ranboo recognized the implications without the explicit statement, and frowned. “Alright, but I mean, it’s still snowing heavily out. You want to go out there?”

“What? Nah, Ranboo, come on.” For the first time in several long hours, something similar to a smile crossed Techno’s face. “Hasn’t Phil ever actually shown you his basement?”

link to the rest of the chapter in the notes/reblogs

#dream smp #ranboo #ranboo fanfiction #technoblade #technoblade fanfic #c!ranboo #c!technoblade #red eggs and ham #my writing #hhh.writing

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allthephils · 6 years ago

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You Were Only Waiting

Word Count: 8510 Rated T (language, mental health mentions, strangers to lovers) Read on AO3

This is my fic based on this art by the amazing and talented @lovelydeps for the @phandomreversebang. Huge thank you to @wolfstarphan for betaing. You were immeasurably helpful! This was such a lovely and fun team to work with!

Summary: Dan is stranded at the airport and stuck in his head, Phil is just looking for some company. A fic about delayed flights and delayed connections.

Dan’s flight is delayed just enough that he’s uncharacteristically on time. It has improved his mood from incredibly irritable to very annoyed but still, this trip was exhausting. New York is cool but there are just so many people and he’s drained. He’d rather be alone with the friends coming through his headphones than fielding questions from his Uber driver. Apparently, he didn’t get the memo that headphones mean no talking. Janelle and Kevin and Troye understand, they don’t ask anything of Dan.

He’s never been so relieved to step out of a car. The ground is covered in a thick blanket of snow, bringing a magical beauty to this decidedly mundane setting. Unfortunately, inside it’s still an airport. He watches his feet as they carry him across the ugly airport carpet to the end of the security queue. It’s a mess, a labyrinth of twists and turns that feels unending. It does end though and Dan goes through the motions by rote. Laptop out, shoes off, little baggie of travel toiletries into the tray. He stands in the scanner, arms above his head and the TSA agent nods and waves him through. It’s the same every trip. He’s come to accept that the time lost in airports is just a necessary evil, something to get through.

At least he doesn’t have to run. He should get to the gate just in time for boarding. It’s quite a hike though, the airport is huge. This is far more exercise than he’d like to be getting today and the constant drone of voices rushing past in all directions is doing nothing for his mood. It feels like a big American mall in here. Dan hates malls, they’re just big monuments to capitalism. So much wasted space filled with useless plastic junk and cheaply made decadence. He passes a Victoria’s Secret and a store that just sells massage chairs. There’s a very posh jewelry store and a shop filled with designer bags and key fobs. He wonders who drops two grand on a handbag at the airport until he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass case and remembers what he paid for his jumper. He picks up his pace, choosing to ignore the voice in his head that says he’s part of the problem.

The gate is purgatory. Close quarters packed with people who would rather be somewhere else and bright unnatural lighting. It’s stifling and Dan wants nothing more than to move on. In a few minutes, the flight will board and he can finally relax. He’s got a guided meditation all queue up and some chamomile tea in his bag, ready to brew. With a deep sigh, he pulls out his phone to get his boarding pass ready. Just then, a notification from the airline pops up. Before he can read the whole thing, the announcement booms out all around him, a long list of cancelled flights, his included. Shit.

Cancelled due to inclement weather. That’s what the notification said, no follow up information, no instructions on what to do next. The website isn’t any help either. He glances around at the crowded room but everyone looks just as lost as he feels. He’s going to have to do the adult thing and actually ask for help. He’ll have to physically walk up to the counter and talk to a real human being, like its fucking 1985 or something. He flicks his hair from his eyes and takes his place in yet another queue.

Soon he’s listening while the guy in front of him demands to know why they didn’t predict it would snow so much and how come they can’t just fly around the storm. The agent shows far more patience than Dan would have, repeating her well worn speech, “We are so sorry for the inconvenience but it is very difficult to predict at this time. You’ll receive notification as soon as we know more.”

The man throws his hands up and Dan softens a bit, knowing the agent is having a much worse day than he is.

“What a twat.” He says as he approaches the counter and she spares a thin smile. “I realize you can’t control or predict the weather but I’m wondering if this likely to be an overnight thing or a booked on another flight in a few hours thing?”

She gives Dan the same answer she gives everyone but he leans forward on his elbows. “Yeah I know, but like, if you had to predict how long we’ll be here...Like just between us.” He musters a sweet smile and an awkward wink that he wishes he could take back almost immediately. Before she can repeat herself again, he apologizes and slinks away.

Dan is stood near the desk, hoping to catch any snippets of news that might come up. There’s nowhere to sit and crawling into a hole isn’t an option so standing will have to do for now. That’s when fate smiles upon him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement, someone gathering their things. Thrilled by the prospect of actually getting to sit down while he waits an undetermined amount of time, Dan makes a b line for the soon to be vacated seat. The previous occupant has barely stepped away when he swoops in, nearly colliding with someone who had the exact same plan.

“Oi, sorry mate, I was eyeing this seat.” Dan says, standing his ground.

“Yeah so was I, mate.” He’s pale and lanky, his shoulders hunched over in a painful display of poor posture. He looks like he’s trying to be shorter. If he wants to blend in, he probably shouldn’t have worn a jumper that looks like a lady bird. Dan supposes he’s kinda cute, maybe a little hot, but sarcasm doesn’t look good on anyone. He’s not the least bit intimidating but he’s trying, lips curled up from the snark, wild brows raised. Those blue eyes are too dreamy to be shooting daggers like that.

Dan should look away, he should square his shoulders and pretend he is not to be messed with. This is a snowed in airport, the wild west, he should claim his territory. He doesn’t look away though, he can’t or he doesn’t want to. Whatever the case, his defenses are weakened along with his knees.

“Actually, you take it.” He concedes, “I have too much nervous energy anyway.”

The guy drops the totally ineffective tough guy act. “No, no, it was a draw. Rock, paper, scissors?”

Dan truly believes there are few conflicts in life that can’t be solved with rock, paper, scissors. They draw again and again, both of them laughing at how completely this strategy has failed. On the next 1, 2, 3, the guy pauses and his eyes wander to Dan’s left, his whole face softening. Dan turns to see what brought on such a change and damn. There goes his chance at a restful wait. Just behind Dan is a mum with a very heavy looking toddler crashed out on her shoulder.

“Would you like to sit down?” The guy says sweetly, tripping over his luggage as he moves out of the way. Dan steps aside too and forces a smile though he’s pretty resentful.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Thank you so much!” She looks about his age, like someone he could be friends with. He can’t imagine being stuck here with a child to care for. “Sorry, It’s been a long day.” She says and sits down with a sigh. Dan catches a glimpse of the angelic sleeping face on her shoulder and he’s over it.

Resigned, he walks to the corner of the room and plops down on an empty patch of carpet, facing a big window overlooking the snowy runway. He searches for a hotel and is unsurprised to find every room in the vicinity booked. Headphones back in, he leans forward on the glass and watches the snow fall.

Time doesn’t follow the rules in airports, not when all the flights are delayed and most are cancelled and it’s late afternoon but people are curled up, asleep in chairs. Dan has changed positions roughly 43 times but his restless legs are still nagging him. Funny how being lazy only comes easy when it’s entirely inappropriate.

Standing takes some work, his hips don’t want to straighten up and do the job they were built to do. He’s partially hunched, one hand on his lower back when he sees himself in the window. He looks like an old man, groaning as he pulls himself to stand and he makes a mental note to find a personal trainer when he gets home, and to stop standing near reflective surfaces.

Hoisting his bag onto his shoulder, he shuffles toward the main corridor. The floor is dotted with people who have accepted the long wait ahead, setting up makeshift camps with laptops out and backpacks for pillows. Dan steps carefully through and heads in the opposite direction from how he came, hoping for something better and more interesting than what he found on his way in.

He’s been poised precariously at the edge of an emotional pit all day. Social exhaustion left him vulnerable and in need of time alone in his own space to refuel. That’s not something he’s gonna get right now so the best he can do is to keep busy, try to stave off boredom and loneliness before they spiral into something darker.

This side of the terminal has nearly the exact same upscale nonsense as the other side. Just when he thinks he might scream if he sees one more mannequin in resort wear, a beacon of hope appears. A bookstore, and not an Amazon store, or an airport newsstand but a real, honest to god book store. To be honest, he doesn’t really read much, but he wants to. A place like this is only going to attract certain people, people who think, who want more than the few best sellers available at the newsstand.

It’s small in here, an airport version of a larger, local bookseller, but there are real shelves to walk through and quiet jazz playing. He wanders through the classics, pausing in poetry to pick something up and read a few lines to himself. ...roused up from hole to itching head. Bodies locked shuddering naked, hot lips and buttocks screwed into each other.

Well, he wasn’t expecting that. He finishes that one and pages through to read a little more.

“Hello again.”

Dan nearly jumps out of his skin. He slams the book shut, shoving it onto the shelf haphazardly. Fighting the blush rushing to his face, he folds his arms, defensive. Ready to glare at whoever is to his left, to send a clear signal that he is not in the mood to chat. His head snaps around, eyes narrowed, then he sees him.

“Allen Ginsberg, huh? Just a little light airport reading?” It’s him, the hot guy who gave up their seat for a tired mum. He laughs at his own joke before continuing. “He was always a little dark for me. Have you read D.A. Powell?”

Dan’s eyes are wide as he stammers out a thought. “No, I haven’t read anybody really. I just grabbed a random book. Not really a reader.” Shut up Dan. He knows he sounds like a dick.

“Well, fancy meeting you in a book store then.” This guy doesn’t seemed fazed by Dan’s weird outburst. “I hate these crowds, don’t you? Also hate being alone though. Just trying to find a happy medium I guess. You want some company?” He’s fidgeting now, nervous, but still doing it, still asking a complete stranger to hang out.

“Oh um no. Thanks, I’m good, busy. Sorry.” The words stutter out even as Dan is arguing with himself internally. The guy looks a little deflated but he manages a smile before walking off. Dan has no idea why he said no, why he defeats himself like this again and again, why he’s not kinder to himself, even now.

He’s tired, from residual jet lag and from just living in his head all day. If he doesn’t get some caffeine soon, exhaustion will set in, adding to the dark cloud currently floating above his head. Anyway, if the caffeine doesn’t lift his spirits, coffee shops have a long and storied history for being great places to be sad and alone.

***

There’s one free table. Dan sets his backpack on one of the chairs, ignoring the warning he’s been hearing all day to not leave his bags unattended. He pulls his reusable mug out and soon it’s filled with a steaming hot, mediocre latte. He puts his feet up, headphones in, and searches for an anime to catch up on. As the end credits roll on his third episode, he cracks his neck and looks around, stretching his arms above his head. There’s a long daunting line of people and behind, towering above everyone, a flash of jet black hair.

Dan thinks maybe he was wrong about how big this terminal is because this guy just keeps popping up. He’s shivering, his hands wrapped tight around the coffee he just picked up and he’s scanning the room. God, he’s really good looking, and tall, no one is ever tall enough. There are no tables left, Dan knows that but he looks over his shoulder anyway. He should talk to him. How often in life do you get a second chance, much less a third? The guy’s eyes move from table to table until they land squarely on Dan.

Dan wears a a thin, nervous smile but there’s some good solid eye contact. He is really proud of himself for that eye contact. He lifts his feet off the chair opposite him and sits up straight in his chair, gesturing an offer to sit.

The guy looks the room over one more time and Dan doesn’t blame him. He couldn’t have made the best impression. He doesn’t try to hide his heavy, resigned sigh before weaving through the maze of tables to where Dan sits.

“This is prime real estate. You sure you don’t want to sell it to the highest bidder?” His teeth are practically chattering as he speaks.

“I’m a socialist.” Dan says, sipping his latte.

“You’re in a Starbucks, mate.”

“I’m at an airport, I’m doing my best.” Dan watches him sit, searching his mind for something to say. It’s been ages since he flirted. Does he even want to flirt? All he knows is this guy is so cute and he’s the sort of person who gives up his seat to a tired mum. Dan’s not sure he even would have noticed her, lost as he’s been in his own mind. And he’s already proven himself patient with Dan’s bullshit.

“Um, Phil.” Dan says, reading the name written on Phil’s cup. “Your lips are a tad blue. Are you feeling ok?”

Phil takes a long drink from his cup, wincing because it’s still too hot. He rubs his lips together then cups his hands over his mouth and breathes into them, warming himself. “How do you know my name?”

Dan reaches over and taps the side of Phil’s cup. “Don’t change the subject. I’m genuinely concerned about your lips.”

“I have that effect on people. The moment you meet me, you start thinking about my lips.” Phil’s smirk hides behind his cup as he attempts to breathe in the warmth.

It takes Dan a moment to catch up. He sits staring for a solid three seconds before his eyes crinkle with surprised laughter. It’s the first laugh he’s heard from himself today, the first genuine laugh he’s heard in a while. He’s not totally aware of the way his shoulders drop but he arches his back, stretching again, surprised how much better it feels this time.

“Also, it’s very cold outside.” Phil sits back in his chair now that the shivering has passed.

“Outside?” Dan can’t fathom what he means but that but Phil just keeps drinking with a barely discernible nod.

“Like outside outside? Like where the snow is coming down and blowing sideways?” There is genuine concern in Dan’s voice.

“Yeah that’s the one.”

“Why did you have to go outside?”

“I didn’t have to. I had some time to kill so I made some snow angels.”

“Why?” Dan’s lip is curled in something that looks more like disgust than he intended.

“I like snow.” Phil says, unaffected.

It’s mildly annoying the way he doesn’t see anything unusual about this scenario. Dan sits up abruptly and leans forward. “Ok, so your stranded in the airport for god knows how long and instead of getting a hotel or going to the bar, you went all the way outside, through security, to play in the snow?”

”I mean, I actually just went to be in the snow. Catch some flakes on my tongue, see the lights reflect off the white. It’s really settled out there. You can hardly tell it’s an airport loading zone, it’s looks so pretty.” Phil tilts his head as he speaks, looks to the window, even though it only looks out on the ugly airport corridor.

“There were these little kids watching the snow through the window, they waved at me and I waved back. They had their noses pressed right up to the glass. I was pretending to slip and fall and all that and they were laughing. But then I actually fell, right on my bum. So I made a snow angel for them.” He stands and takes his jacket off, must be warming up a bit. “Just putting it out there, snow angels are the least fun thing to do. I got snow all up inside my jacket and my hands are frozen. Might not be dressed ideally for literally laying in the snow, my ass is soaked to the bone.” He laughs a little to himself as he sits and goes back to sipping.

Dan’s mouth has dropped open a bit and he stares. He’s pretty sure Phil is the good kind of weird but he studies his features looking for signs to the contrary. All he finds are the prettiest lips and something oddly comforting in the dark centers of his eyes.

Phil’s watching him too, just drinking his coffee and watching, wearing a coy little smile. It’s a reaction to his staring, either judgement or flirting or just a smug acknowledgment that Dan can’t or won’t look away.

The quiet should be unnerving. Dan has conditioned himself to fill every moment, with sound or image or information. It prevents him from ever really feeling alone, from being alone with his thoughts. It’s not unnerving though, he just feels, calm. He wonders what sort of break through he could have if he wasn’t so afraid of being in his head, if he let his mind wander. It’s then he realizes his mind is wandering now and maybe this is some sort of gentle breakthrough of it’s own.

“Where’d you go?” Phil asks.

He hopes his expression hasn’t given away the micro crisis he’s having in his head. Pulled from his introspection, he smiles thinly.

“Sorry. I tend to drift off during awkward silences.”

“Awkward? I didn’t think it was awkward,” Phil says. “How often do you get to do nothing like this?”

Dan shrugs, a little guilty. So much of what he spends his time on feels like nothing.

“You know, you didn’t have to invite me to sit down. If I’m bothering you…”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” And he is sorry, really sorry. He wants to be friendly and flirty and easy to talk to. This guy is really sweet and cute and it’s not awkward, not even a little. Dan can’t explain why he always goes on the defense.

“You aren’t bothering me. I’m just kind of a dick sometimes.” Dan heaves a breath, dredging up some courage and mumbles, “I’m actually really glad you showed up.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Phil says with his hand to ear.

Dan rolls his eyes and quickly spits out, “I’m glad you showed up cuz I was really bored and we’ll probably be here all night and you’re really nice so thanks for not writing me off when I acted like a twat.”

“Which time?” Phil asks but he’s smiling. “You’re welcome.”

It goes quiet again and Phil stands suddenly. “Alright, we need sugar.” He walks off before Dan can protest. Normally, Dan would pick up his phone, cycle quickly through all his social media so he doesn’t miss anything. He gets as far as picking it up but it just sits in his hand unattended. His eyes are otherwise occupied, following Phil’s long legs as they carry him to the pastry case. They’re good legs, pretty legs that end in wide hips and a nice round ass. His lip has somehow found it’s way between his teeth when Phil glances back. There’s a beat before he realizes and looks away, rather conspicuously.

When Phil returns, he hands Dan a snowman shaped cookie and makes a toast to snow.

Dan taps his cookie to Phil’s, “we’re toasting to snow? But that’s why we’re stuck here.”

“Exactly.” Phil says like it’s obvious. Dan savagely rips the head off of his snowman then thanks Phil around his mouthful.

Phil laughs softly. “Ok, Dan. Snog, marry, avoid. Mario, Link, and… um, the king of all cosmos.”

“Excuse me, the king of what now?”

Phil’s eye grow wide, his mouth open in genuine shock. “The king of all cosmos? Do you even video game? Katamari Damacy?”

“Yeah I know, obviously.” Dan sinks down in his chair a bit. “Kill Mario, marry Link, fuck the king.”

“Really? You’d kill Mario. I could never do that after everything he’s done for me. Also he’s handy.” Phil takes another bite, speaking through crumbs that he wipes away with his fingers. “He’s literally a plumber. He could fix stuff around the house, total husband material.”

“Ok fair.” Dan says, “but Link is brave and humble, he’d be a great life partner. And I grew up with him. Also he’s left handed so we could both use the same scissors.”

“Wow. Nerd alert.”

Dan sticks his leg out under the table to gently kick Phil’s leg. “Shut up, look who’s talking.” Dan’s voice goes high pitched, mocking. “Oh, Mario’s done so much for me.”

Phil laughs out loud, a proper laugh, head tipped back, hands clapped together. It’s a good, warm laugh that wraps Dan up like a blanket. Any remaining angst hanging on to the edges of his psyche lose their grip and all that’s left is an unfamiliar contentment.

“Ok, ok, I think we’ve established we’re both massive nerds.” Phil says, popping the lid off his coffee and dipping his cookie in what’s left.

Dan is a man of extremes. When his guard comes down, it comes all the way down.

“And who would you fuck Phil?” He’s hears his own voice in exaggerated slow motion as heat spreads across his cheeks. His palms are sweaty now, his stomach in his throat. What the hell did he just say? This is why we can’t have nice things, Dan.

Phil seems to be considering his response, slowly sipping from his cup, his lips clearly fighting off a smirk. He catches Dan’s eyes and sucks his bottom lip for a drawn out moment before showing him mercy and moving on.

“Link, obvs.”

Dan clears his throat and tries to act natural. “But the king...that package.”

“I don’t know, I like someone a little younger, not so beefy.” Phil takes a moment then quickly adds, “I’m talking about like, young adult link. Of course.”

“Of course.”

If Phil was trying to break the ice, it worked. The conversation flows easy after that. Dan could talk about video games all day, a topic just impersonal enough to loosen him up. Eventually he’s sharing some of his most embarrassing stories, stupid shit he did at uni and the time he got sacked from a DIY shop for selling an axe to a little kid. Phil laughs at every story and Dan is prepared to dig deep into the repressed corners of his mind if he can keep hearing that laugh. And it seems every story he tells earns him an equally embarrassing and far more amusing story from Phil. Dan is literally wiping away tears as Phil tells him all about a squirrel that bit him right in the Florida.

They both catch their breath when the laughter finally fades and they slip back into quiet. With nothing left to drink, it is a little awkward this time. Dan’s not sure what to do with his hands or where to rest his eyes. He checks his phone.

“No news?” Phil says to a quick shake of Dan’s head. “You want another round?”

“I think I’d better switch to herbal tea.”

Phil moves to grab Dan’s mug but Dan stops him. “Let me. What’s your poison?”

“Caramel macchiato?” Phil says, a little sheepish and with a nod and as kind a smile as he can muster, Dan walks away.

“Sweets for the sweet.” Dan says as he sits down and hands Phil his drink. Their fingers brush as Phil takes the cup, his eyes looking softly into Dan’s. It seems Dan isn’t the only one who’s let his guard down.

The table is small. They’ve both had their legs tucked back this whole time. As he scoots his chair in, Dan’s knees bump Phil’s and it’s clear he’s unfurled them into a more relaxed position. His instinct is to pull back but his body has proven to ignore his better judgement when it comes to this new variable. He lets his foot slide between Phil’s so their legs are slotted perfectly together. Neither of them acknowledge it, holding still to keep from touching more than incidentally.

The conversation continues and they both open up more than makes sense for strangers in an airport. Nothing feels real anymore, time is suspended with no end in sight. Maybe it’s that or maybe it’s the relief of letting go a little bit or maybe it’s just Phil. Whatever the catalyst, Dan feels safe, not something he feels often.

Phil talks about his grandma, his brother, his failed attempts at heterosexuality. Dan’s topics are broader but the political is personal to Dan, and Phil seems to understand that. Time stretches and the nods turn thoughtful, the laughter sweeter. Moments of empathy are punctuated with bumps and nudges under the table. When the next lull comes, Phil shifts his weight. Dan watches as he lets his head lean to the wall next to his chair. His eyes look heavy.

“How can you be tired after all that sugary coffee?” Dan asks, shaking his head.

“Not tired,” Phil says, “just relaxed.” His legs follow the lean of his body, taking one of Dan’s with him. He hooks a foot around Dan’s ankle, coming to rest there.

Dan let’s one dimple peek out but he doesn’t move his gaze from Phil. “Comfy?” He asks, with a hint of mirth.

Phil nods, his crooked lips soft. “This is nice. And I’m enjoying the view.”

Dan looks over his shoulder. Yep, hideous airport corridor, lots of grumpy people he’d forgotten about entirely. “What view? What are you on about? Are you aware that you often speak in riddles?”

“I don’t know.” Phil moves Dan’s leg under the table. “I feel like I’ve been pretty clear.”

Dan’s heart does a somersault and he huffs a nervous laugh. Nervous again after such an easy talk, but it’s a good nervous. The kind that comes from the promise of something good.

Phil isn’t subtle, he wears a cocky grin that says he knows exactly what effect he’s having. Dan’s feels an urgent need to kiss the smile right off of that smug little mouth. He wants to grab the tip of Phil’s tongue that’s poking through his teeth and pull it. He imagines he’d taste like a coffee milkshake and his mouth waters at the thought. He could spring right across the table, charged as he is. Now they’ve stopped chatting, the energy between them just sits, an electric tether holding them there.

Dan can’t help his mind going to the physical first, it’s not often he’s this open with anyone, much less someone he just met. Some piece of him wants to grab ahold of that hint of intimacy lest it get away. What he really wants is to just get closer, to wrap his arms around the beautiful friend he’s found and not let go.

Phil’s phone is vibrating on the table but he doesn’t notice, his focus is on Dan, gaze moving from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

“Brah, you’re blowing up.” Dan says in far too smitten a tone.

“Hmm? Oh!” Phil takes a quick peek and puts the phone to his ear. “Hi love. Nah, still here.” He stands, points to the exit to let Dan now he has to take the call, and walks out to lean against a wall of lockers.

To Dan’s credit, he doesn’t spiral right away. He starts silently rehearsing ways to ask for Phil’s number. He doesn’t even know where he lives, as deep as they got, they kinda bypassed the everyday stuff. Maybe he should just write his own number down and hand it to him. Except he definitely doesn’t have a pen because who carries a pen anymore? He could ask the barista but then they’d know and they’d be watching and it’s hard enough to be bold without an audience much less with one.

He looks over his shoulder, trying to appear casual. Phil looks so cool leaning like that, beaming and chatting. Dan wonders who he’s talking to, someone close enough to call ‘love.’ It’s taking a while and he looks really happy. Dan realizes Phil never actually said he was single. Sure, he seemed interested but he was just looking to find some company for the wait. This is probably just what friendship looks like to Phil, socially awkward but strangely confident Phil. Of course he’s taken, he’s funny and smart and he listens. He probably has someone waiting for him, someone cool and quirky who reads poetry and plays Katamari Damacy with him. Someone who doesn’t wear plain black jumpers that cost hundreds of pounds even though they were made in China. They probably know he’s a flirt but they don’t care because he’s coming home to them.

“Sir,” There’s a barista standing at the table. Dan has no idea how long he was lost in thought, ignoring her. “So sorry but we will be closing up in about 5 minutes.”

“Yeah, ok.” Dan stammers, embarrassed as always. “We’ll, I’ll clear out. Sorry. Thanks.”

She takes the trash from the table and Dan pulls on his hoodie and backpack. He throws Phil’s jacket over his arm and grabs the handle of his suitcase, rolling it behind him. Phil is humming affirmative responses to whoever is on the line but not talking much. He takes his jacket from Dan with a smile of thanks and a roll of his eyes. He mouths the word sorry.

Dan waves the word away. He mumbles something about needing to find a place to get some rest though he knows Phil can’t hear. The only thing worse than walking away from this well of potential would be to stand here and fidget, listening while Phil talks with his boyfriend only to have to say an awkward goodbye afterward. He points over Phil’s shoulder at nothing in particular and Phil sort of nods though he looks confused. Dan’s heart has no right to crack like this. He barely knows Phil. That tether though, it’s got some strength to it. He swallows hard and walks past Phil then just keeps walking. He just keeps walking, waiting for the tether to snap.

He turns the first corner he comes to and finds a lounge. People are curled up asleep on the benches. The sound on the tv is muted. He moves to the far back corner and lays down on the floor, resting his head on his back pack. His headphones are in, a movie queued up on his phone, he’s right back where he started. At least he got to pass the time with someone. It was a nice moment out of reality. So he was attracted to him, it’s not a big deal. He’s attracted to people all the time, it never goes anywhere. There’s no reason it should be different this time, no reason he should feel a dull ache in his chest. It’s totally irrational and unrealistic to think that anything could come of a random meeting like that. It was just a few hours with a friendly stranger.

Twenty minutes later, just when he’s settled into a position that is almost comfortable, the movie pauses and notification pops up. Dan has been booked on a new flight and if he wants the seat he needs to check in at the gate, like now.

The waiting area is still full but the settled resignation of earlier in the day has turned to frustrated exhaustion. Blurry eyed travelers stand, gripping their phones, close to the counter, watching for some glimmer of hope that they’ll get home soon. The paper boarding pass in Dan’s hand feel like a winning lottery ticket and he tightens his hold, imagining the vultures who would swoop in if he were to drop it. He knows it’s irrational, he’s booked, the seat is his but he feels undeserving in light of all these folks waiting. He’s looking down, embarrassed at his good fortune, as he turns to find a place to waiting for boarding.

Two steps forward and he hears him, “Are you kidding me? You’re on this flight?” It’s Phil and he sounds none too pleased to have run into Dan once again.

“Oh hey Phil.”

“Hey Phil?!” Phil sounds angry now, his voice low and controlled, “Hey Phil?! Are you mental?”

That stings. He could deflect, point out the problematic nature of Phil’s choice of language, but he stays quiet.

“That was bloody rude. I thought you’d gone to find a place to sit but I turned around and you were gone. You could have said a proper goodbye.”

“You were on the phone.” Dan’s stomach feels sour at the sound of his own voice, his own immature, cowardly voice.

“Yeah. I was.” Phil’s eyes are right on Dan but he doesn’t meet his gaze, he’s staring at Phil’s shoes. His voice softens, “I was really excited Dan. We have a lot in common and I was gonna get your number and like, you just left.”

“Well, it’s not like you came to find me.” Dan really wishes he would shut up and stop sabotaging every good thing that happens to him.

“Came to find you!” It comes out loud, clearly louder than Phil intended as he looks around and clears his throat before speaking again, this time in a loud whisper. “You chatted me up for hours, flirting with me, letting me flirt with you and then left when I was on the phone so you didn’t have to deal with rejecting me!”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet then.” Dan says, defeated, “So why bother confronting me?”

“Because I had a good time, Dan. I really did. A better time than I had any right to with a total stranger.” Phil runs a hand through his hair.

He does that when he’s frustrated or nervous. He fidgets, he can’t stand still. Dan knows this about him, he learned it along with the fact like he likes his coffee unreasonably sweet and has a stupidly high tolerance for caffeine. He learned that he sticks his tongue between his teeth when he’s delighted and that he’s delighted a lot. He knows that he’s flirty and confident even though he’s clumsy and messy and has a really weird sense of humor. He knows that his weird brand of conversation meshes with Dan’s uncommonly well. He knows he’s unashamed. He’s a lot of things Dan isn’t and the lump in Dan’s throat is rudely pushing him to face the fact that Phil never would have ditched Dan like that.

Dan swallows hard. “Ok yeah, you’re right. It was really fucking rude of me to leave. I’m sorry. But I wasn’t avoiding rejecting you.” He heaves a sigh, hoping the force of it will push the words out. “I was avoiding being rejected by you.”

“What? I was so into you. How was that not obvious, Dan?”

Dan shrugs and mumbles something about a boyfriend on the phone.

Phil laughs a laugh that’s not at all amused. “That phone call was my friend Louise.” He says flatly, “She literally had a baby today. A fucking baby, Dan. I couldn’t bloody well cut her off in the middle of her birth story.” He flicks fingers through his quiff, laying it down and then picking it back up. “Stomach churning as it was.”

Dan feels sick. He wonders how long he’s going to let his negative self talk make him miserable. He knows there are things he has to forgive in himself, that he can’t help some of it. But he also know the parts of him he hides behind and he wonders how much his low self esteem would improve if he stopped leaning on it like a crutch. His eyes sting, embarrassment and exhaustion are making all of this seem insurmountable.

“I’m really sorry Phil.” He tries to look at Phil but turns his head, too aware of his wet eyes. “I got scared and I didn’t think I had a chance with you. I fuck these things up, I told you.”

With a moment of static, first class boarding is announced.

“That’s me, Dan. I have to board.” Phil doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired. “This has been a weird day. We were strangers yesterday. But I know a few things about you now and since we’re standing here, fighting like boyfriends, I’m gonna go ahead and overstep one more time.” He reaches a hand to lay it on Dan’s arm. “It’s a heavy weight you carry around with you. I know how that is, Dan. And I’m telling you from experience, life is so much more enjoyable if you let someone else help you carry it once in a while.”

With that, he turns and walks to the doors, hands his boarding pass to the attendant, and disappears down the jetway.

Dan wipes his eyes before they can betray him with actual tears.

***

Sipping his subpar whisky sour, Dan let’s the soothing voice in his ears guide him through step by step relaxation. His legs are heavy and relaxed, the only thing he has to do right now is breathe. In for a count of 5, out for a count of 8, in for a count of 5, out for a count of 8. With every inhale, soft blue healing light spreads through your body. What color is your blue? The color of the sky? The sea? Phil’s eyes. Definitely Phil’s eyes. Dan shifts in his seat, shaking his head as if to dislodge the image from his mind. He takes a long drink of his cocktail, heaves a breath and tries again.

It’s time to get over it. Soon, he’ll be home and settled back to his routine, alone in his flat, back to real life. He tries to do to follow the voice, to do the breathing thing. When a thought enters your mind, acknowledge it, without judgement and let it go. There are a million thoughts in his mind and a million judgements. That was a dick move. He was really great and you just ditched him. Why are you such a coward? You can stop thinking about him now.

With a rather violent jab of his finger, he quits the app, switching to music. He shoots back the rest of his drink and closes his eyes but regret gnaws at him until his stomach is an empty pit, twisting a constant reminder that he’s lost something.

He’d walked past Phil’s row on his way to his seat, carefully avoiding eye contact. He looked sad, this would be easier if he’d stayed angry. At the risk of looking like a dejected lover in a romantic comedy, he makes the rash decision to go talk to Phil. Before he thinks too deeply, he throws off his seatbelt and moves to stand, only to find himself face to face with a stern looking flight attendant.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’ll need you to take your seat. With this turbulence, we have to ask that you stay seated and buckled for the duration of the flight or until the safety light is switched off.”

“Oh, um. My friend is in first class and he gets really frightened on planes.” He searches his mind for a story that will elicit some sympathy. “I’m really worried about him with this turbulence. Can I just go check on him please?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. I apologize but it’s for everyone’s safety.”

Dan presses his lips together, accepting his fate but just as she walks away, he speaks up again, “Oh, excuse me.” She turns with a forced hospitable grin and looks at Dan expectantly. “What about a drink? Can I buy him a drink? Send it to his seat. His name’s Phil, third row window seat, handsome, black hair.”

“If he’s in first class, his drinks are complimentary, sir.”

“Oh.” Dan looks down at his hands. “Then can you just bring him one? Say it’s from Dan?”

There’s a long exhale that reveals just how long her night has been before she nods gently and says, “What sort of drink did you have in mind?”

“Do you have hot chocolate?” Dan smiles up at her, grateful for her patience. His dimples really do come in handy at moments like this.

A tiny smile blooms on her overworked face and she leans in a bit closer, “Ok, hot chocolate from Dan. I’ll bring him an extra blanket too.”

With his hand to his heart, he thanks her, it means it more than she could know. The next thing he’s aware of is the same flight attendant’s hand on his shoulder, waking him up. The flight is descending and he needs to turn off his electronics.

By the time he’s shuffling down the aisle, first class has long since departed. Dan walks quickly, ready to be done with airports and travel and new people and places. He’ll get a car, headphones in, and soon he’ll be curled up in bed. He can sleep all day. There’s nothing he’s late for, no one waiting for him.

It’s terribly bright outside and Dan is personally insulted. He was counting on London gloom to validate his mood. He pauses next to the taxi queue, eyes on his phone, music in his ears, calculating the benefit of getting an Uber over jumping into one of these waiting cabs.

“Dan!”

“What the fuck!” Dan jumps, his heart races off down the road without him and he pulls his headphones off.

Phil giggles behind his hand. His other, on Dan’s shoulder, is warm and heavy and works wonders to calm Dan’s flight or flight freak out.

“Sorry. I said hi like three times.” Phil says, trying to curb his laughter. “Maybe you should turn your music down, mate.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sneak up on people.” He’s reeling from exhaustion and emotional whiplash.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate. And the blanket.” He moves to rub the back of his neck in a classic display of Phil nerves.

“No problem. Hope it made your first class seat tolerable, you poor soul.”

“Hey.” Phil’s smile is so subtle it’s barely there, his eyes fixed on Dan’s, “I like nice things.”

They stay like that, inches apart, just looking at one another. It’s freezing out here but neither of them can feel it.

“You wanna share a car? I’m in north London.” Phil hasn’t looked away, he sounds like he’s talking to himself, his voice quiet and directed nowhere in particular. Dan nods and they both turn. The guy managing the line ushers them into a cab, taking Phil’s luggage and Phil gives the driver his address. It makes sense for Dan to be dropped off first but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to be the one walking away this time.

“Did you have a good flight?” Phil asks, small talk seems the only way out of this tension.

“It was ok. You?”

“Yeah. I mean, first class.” Phil worries his lip and Dan can’t take it anymore. He can’t take the unknowns and the regret and the stupid magnetic attraction he feels toward this person. He’s looking right at Phil’s mouth, it must be so obvious, and he’s telling himself, do it, just do it. His heart is in his throat, his stomach in knots, sensations that usually elicit a firm nope from Dan. His stock reaction to this fear is to run but he can’t run, they’re in the back of a taxi right now. If Phil pushes him away, he’ll just get out and take a bus. Dan’s breath is coming out in huffs, still watching Phil’s pink mouth as his lip slips free of his teeth.

A hand comes to rest on Dan’s leg, just above his knee. He startles a little and his eyes jerk quickly down to make sure he didn’t imagine it. The tether is taught, it’s either gonna break or he needs to grab hold of it and pull, hard.

So he does.

He leans forward too fast, his lips collide with Phil’s too forcefully, but Phil slides his hand behind Dan’s neck and leans into him till they find a perfect balance. Soft but urgent, they push against each other, Phil’s tongue dipping in between Dan’s teeth. Just enough to connect them but with room for so much more. They move with each other, unhurried until they feel the car pull to the curb and hear the driver clear his throat.

“One second.” Phil says as they pull apart, “let me get my bag.” He hands the driver his card and opens his door, climbing out to wait for his luggage to be retrieved from the boot. Dan gets his phone out and sets up a contact for Phil to fill in. He leans into the open door but before he can speak, Phil crouches down.

“You coming?”

“Sorry?” Dan replies.

“Are you coming up?” Phil always seem to think people just know what he’s talking about.

“Up? To your flat?”

Phil nods, “Everytime I lose sight of you, you run off. I think I’d like to keep you close if it’s all the same to you.”

“Don’t you need to sleep?”

“Yeah, and so do you.” Phil says, matter factly, “So come sleep. With me.”

Dan could honestly say that nothing has ever sound better.

*****

It’s been a long time since he woke up next to a stranger. It’s been a long time since he woke up next to anyone, unless you count Colin, Dan’s family’s dog who shared his bed when he went home for Christmas. It’s a little alarming at first, feeling an arm draped over his middle as he makes the slow climb to consciousness. Reality sets in as his eyes blink open and survey unfamiliar surroundings. The room is unmistakably Phil, the plants, the books, the sentimental trinkets. It’s welcoming and homey, this is exactly how Dan would have pictured Phil’s room. It is odd to feel like he knows this stranger so well. He’s not a stranger though, not really.

Gently, Dan lays his hand over the one resting against his belly. The body behind him is solid, pressed up tight. There’s so much intimacy in spooning. He closes his eyes, willfully rejecting any evidence of daytime that might be streaming through the window. He wishes it would snow now, right here in London; a wild, never before seen blizzard that would strand him here in this flat. The whole city would shut down, lives would be disrupted, but it all sounds worth it if it meant he could stay here just a little while longer. Maybe if he’s very still, his big spoon won’t wake up. He really hopes he doesn’t. If he wakes up, they’ll both be thrust out of the liminal space where they found each other and into purpose and schedules and wretched real life.

There’s a sleepy huff of a breath against his neck, and the arm around him pulls tighter for a moment. It might just be his dire need for human connection but this feels so good, being held like this. He wants to turn over so he can look at his face, nuzzle into his neck, wrap his arms around him, but he won’t risk bringing all of this to an end.

“You’re warm.” Phil’s voice is a low rumble against Dan’s back. It reminds him of the furnace coming on in the early mornings when he was kid, the promise of comfort that would stay even when he threw the blankets off. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2.” Dan says after reaching to the bedside to tip his phone into view.

Phil hums his acknowledgment and snuggles in closer, inhaling deeply with his nose tucked into the short hairs at the back of Dan’s head. “You smell like my shampoo.”

Dan is still but for his fingers. They push between the one’s underneath them and curl around to ensure that hand is staying put.

“Do you need to get up?” There’s a squeeze in his heart as he asks until he senses Phil shaking his head no behind him.

“Don’t go.” Phil says, so quietly it takes Dan a second to register. “It’s not enough yet.”

“Not enough sleep?” Dan asks.

“Just not enough.” Phil says and Dan feels a quick, soft kiss on the back of his neck.

“Go back to sleep, Phil,” Dan replies, calm spreading over him, a lightness he hasn’t experienced in so many years. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Soon, the embrace isn’t quite so tight and the breathing behind Dan is slow and steady. Sleep won’t come back so quickly for Dan, it’s just not how he operates. The sound of Phil breathing becomes a meditative soundtrack and he replays the last 24 hours, finding the moments, committing the details to a deeper place in his memory. There’s a small voice in his head that says he’ll want to tell this story later.

End.

#phanfic #PRB #myfic #You Were Only Waiting

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