#and then i'll probably pass out once i walk up to dan and phil but whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

breathlester · 4 years

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Life has a hopeful undertone (and I'll be holding on to you)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

summary: au in which Dan and Phil are struggling not to drown in unpaid bills, but somehow they're making it work. Or: Dan has an anxious breakdown and Phil comforts him.

genre/themes: angst, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mental health issues

content warnings: anxiety, mentions of past self-harm, depression, mentions of homophobia, mentions of homelessness

(this was written years before dan talked about his mental health and his childhood, so it really isn’t trying to be accurate to that - it’s an au! please also be aware that this isn’t necessarily a healthy relationship and a partner can never replace a professional therapist.)

“Seek assistance.”

Dan curses and takes a deep breath before he swipes his card past the scanner again. The annoying error sound buzzes through the air once more, piercing the busy chatter of the rush hour, and a woman behind him sighs loudly.

“Seek assistance,” the screen taunts Dan in bright red letters and he can already feel tears prickling at the back of his eyeballs.

No.

He swallows hard and tears his gaze away from the card reader, blinking violently.

There’s a man in uniform trying to catch his eye but Dan bites down on his bottom lip and turns away quickly, shoving past the people queued up behind him. He doesn’t need to seek assistance from staff to be told that his oyster card needs recharging. His bloody wallet needs recharging.

Dan ignores the loud complaints of people around him as he busts through the crowd recklessly. Just out, out. Out of the stuffy tube station and into the clear air.

Except the air isn’t all that clear, because London at 5 pm is bustling with hasty people and honking cars and thick with the stink of noxious fumes. The sky above is thick with heavy grey clouds, and Dan’s head is thick with a fog of noxious thoughts.

He tries to replace them with positive ones. So what if he can’t take the tube. It’s probably chock-full anyway. Besides, a walk home is supposed to be good to clear your head, right? Get some fresh air, catch some sunlight…

A young girl passing him gives him a weird look when he laughs out loud at his thoughts, bitterly. He pulls the hood of his jacket over his head and shoves his fists into the pockets as it starts to rain, and wishes for the millionth time for enough money to buy an iPod so he could at least drown out the world.

By the time Dan arrives at his flat the sun has been smothered by a clusterfuck of clouds and his hoodie is clinging to his skin. He’s soaked to the bone, teeth chattering as he jams the key into the lock, struggling with the door for a bit because his hands are shaking so much. It’s only September, it’s not supposed to be this cold.

The heating isn’t even on yet.

Finally, the door falls shut behind him and Dan leans back against it, allowing himself to close his eyes and breathe for a moment.

All he wants is to crawl into bed and have Phil whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

But his boyfriend won’t be home for at least another hour.

The tears are threatening to spill again, but Dan holds them back with all his might, because once he starts crying he won’t be able to stop anytime soon and then he’ll end up with a migraine and have to call in sick and he can’t fucking afford a sick day right now.

So he picks himself up and strips off the hoodie to throw it to the laundry. He mops up the puddle he made on the hallway floor and raids the cupboards for instant coffee and Phil’s emergency ration of chocolate, then he builds a fort on the sagging sofa with his threadbare duvet. Focusing on trivial domestic work, ignoring the dark, menacing world.

Thunder is rumbling outside and Dan ignores it, just as he ignores the creaks of the sofa beneath his weight and the blister on his tongue from the too-hot coffee. He’s okay.

He’s okay.

The tv suddenly goes blank during a particularly loud roll of thunder and Dan sits upright, his hand clenched around the mug although the sloshing coffee burns his skin.

“I’m not afraid,” he says out loud to the black screen that is staring back at him deridingly. Dan sets down the empty mug and licks the coffee off his hand.

“It’s just masses of air colliding”, he tries again, remembering what Phil, writer of the weather forecast for a news website, has told him.

“Nimbus, the rain cloud”, he recites. “Cumulonimbus, the storm cloud -” His voice cracks midway and he bites down on his lip again, tasting blood.

There’s a noise from the hallway and Dan jumps.

The scratching of a key being turned in the lock sounds eerie in the quiet between thunder rolls. His heart raps against his throat as he pulls out his phone and glances at the screen.

It’s not time for Phil to be back yet.

“Dan?”

The relief he feels sparking up at the sound of Phil’s voice is immediately flooded by doubt and sorrow. They swirl and fill up his chest, building tidal waves that knock hard against his ribcage, threatening to take his breath.

He scrambles to his feet and out into the hall where Phil is shaking out his umbrella with dry clothes and reddened cheeks and shining eyes.

The straps that have been holding Dan together snap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Phil, I just mopped here!”

Phil flinches and his eyes widen. He puts the umbrella down. “I’ll wipe it up, okay?”

“No, it’s not fucking okay!”

Now he’s heaving breaths, feeling like he’s drowning, and he didn’t want to let this happen, fucking hell, no, he can’t let the dam break…

Through clouded eyes, he sees Phil reaching for his hand and pulls away. The words tumble off his tongue and he’s too tired to try and stop them.

“You can’t just come in here and act like things are okay when they fucking aren’t! You’ve been fired, haven’t you? Why else would you be home early? Don’t fucking lie to me – we’ve got to pay our bills, Phil, the rent is due next week and you haven’t even… you haven’t even said anything, why aren’t you saying anything, Phil, I -”

He’s cut off by a hiccup and warm hands cupping his cheeks. His half-hearted reluctance is ignored. A mouth presses against his own and suffocates the angry rant.

He breaks away and continues, softer now, worry and fear lacing through his words, tearing through the mask of ire.

“What are we going to do… Phil, if you’ve lost your job that means our income is less than half, I don’t know how -”

Phil presses a finger against his lips. “Dan, I haven’t.”

“You haven’t – what?”

“I haven’t been fired.”

Dan exhales shakily, his fingers grasping bunches of Phil’s jumper without even noticing. He doesn’t understand.

“But then – why are you -”

“Home early?”

Phil’s eyes light up and he smiles, his face so close Dan can count the laughter lines in the corners of his eyes.

There’s still a hint of worry in the creases, but it doesn’t gain the upper hand over his excitement. Phil never lets it.

“I’ve been promoted.”

Dan stares at him, dumbfounded. The silence is disturbed by another hiccup.

“They’re letting me write my own column”, Phil explains. “I can work from here mostly and the pay’s a lot better, too.”

Dan kisses him, and his hiccups turn into sobs against Phil’s lips, and he’s clutching the fabric of Phil’s jumper as if it were a lifeline.

What he wants to say is, “I’m so proud of you”, because really, he is, and Phil deserves the reward because he’s such a good writer and he’s so fucking clever and hardworking and Dan loves him so much, but all that comes spurting out is, “Oh god. Oh thank god. Oh Phil, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Phil mutters against his mouth, but Dan pulls away from the kiss and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you. I’ve been missing you all afternoon and I’ve had the shittiest day and then you’re home and all I do is rant for no reason, I’m sorry.”

His breath is hitching and he’s sniffling but Phil, wonderful, selfless Phil, holds his arms open and says, “C'mere.”

Dan sinks into them and allows the waves to crash.

The power’s been cut off but the water in the shower runs hot and steady. Outside, the storm has eased into heavy rain that patters against their windows, providing a soothing background noise.

Dan is stood with his back to Phil whose fingers are threading languidly through his hair. He feels 19 all over again, when the older university student had picked him up off the streets, a scrawny teen with filthy hair and self-harm scars and no home to return to.

The sweetish scent of cheap shampoo fills up his nostrils and he sighs at the feeling of Phil’s fingertips gently massaging his scalp. He can feel the tension resolving, headache slowly retreating, reluctant to admit its defeat. Phil’s always been Dan’s most effective painkiller.

“Lean forward.”

Water washes the shampoo out of his thick curls and Phil’s hands venture downwards. Dan flinches when he feels them briefly skimming his neck.

“Hold still, I’m trying to work out the knots,” Phil murmurs behind him, fingers digging into Dan’s shoulders.

He tries to measure his breaths, sync them with Phil’s. Maybe they can work out the knots in their life as well.

When Phil’s hands run down his back and come to rest on his hips, Dan leans back into him, lets his head sink onto his shoulder and the water stream wash away the tear stains on his face. The bathroom air is misty and damp and there’s most likely a moudly spot in the corner of the shower cubicle, but Dan inhales it like it’s salutary, because it’s home, it’s comfort.

Just like Phil’s arms that sneak around his waist, holding him tight.

“Let’s take tomorrow off”, he whispers, barely audible through the sound of rushing water. “Just stay in bed.”

Dan presses his head into Phil’s neck. “You know we can’t. They’ll fire us.”

Gently, Phil turns him around and makes him lean back against the shower wall, ducking to mouth against Dan’s neck.

“We could always run away,” he mutters, his breath tickling Dan’s skin. “Leave this city behind, you and me alone.”

Dan closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of Phil’s body moving softly against his, but blinks before the dream can take shape.

“With what money? We’d end up on the street again and freeze to death when it gets cold.”

As if to confirm his words, the water turns cold and they clamber out of the shower and straight into bed. Shared body warmth makes up for the lack of heating as they huddle close together underneath the duvet.

Phil’s eyes blink at him, blue and honest in the dimness.

“Dan, I’m sorry we can’t afford a better living. I promise you I’ll do my best with the column, I’m going to work on it day and night -”

Dan presses his index finger against Phil’s lips. “Don’t apologize, Phil. I already owe you so much.”

He moves closer, replacing the finger with his mouth. Their lips slot together slow and sweet, and everything feels just that slight bit less frightening when Phil’s body is pressed to his, the heaving and sinking of his bare chest a calming parameter in Dan’s shaking, swirling world.

“That shower is going to be evident in our next water bill,” he mumbles as they part for breath.

Phil yawns. “It’s on me.”

He reaches out to pull Dan into his chest, but Dan resists. “I don’t want you to pay for everything, Phil, it’s not fair. I’ll have to find a better job soon.”

It’s not like he loves stacking boxes at Tesco.

“Sometimes I think my father was right, y'know,” he says haltingly. “If I’d gone into law, we wouldn’t be struggling to pay the rent now.”

Fingers tilt his chin upwards. Phil’s brow is furrowed.

“Dan, stop. You know I don’t care if you pay less than half. You’ve made it up to me just by being there. I love you. And don’t even start like that – if you’d become a lawyer just because your father wanted you to, it never would’ve made you happy.”

What he doesn’t say is that they wouldn’t even have met if Dan had complied with his father’s wishes. Dan knows Phil is secretly glad everything went the way it did. He also knows that Phil would never admit to this.

His boyfriend’s voice softens and his hand moves to cup Dan’s cheek.

“I just want you to be happy, okay? Who cares what he wanted. Apparently he also wanted a straight son, and look how that worked out.”

Dan cracks a tiny smile. He wishes he could laugh at Phil’s words, but the thought of his father still leaves a bitter taste behind, a reminder of the nagging wound in his heart that has only started to fade in the past years. Some things aren’t easily forgotten, and one of them certainly is being told that you’re an abomination. Even if the words are taken back afterwards. Because afterwards is too late.

Phil shifts to press his forehead against Dan’s. He’s so close Dan can feel his breath on his face, and the flutter of his eyelids.

He knows Phil’s right, knows that he shouldn’t care, shouldn’t still be clinging to the idea that he had to please his father somehow, to make him proud.

And yet…

“I don’t want to disappoint you”, he breathes, blinking fresh tears away. He wants to make Phil proud, to make him happy, because it’s always Dan who spills his guts and Phil who listens and holds him, and he feels so incredibly selfish.

“You couldn’t”, Phil whispers, leaning in for another kiss, and Dan wants to believe him, but it’s not easy.

It’s never been and maybe it’ll never be.

“You don’t have to try so hard, Dan”, Phil mutters against his lips. “You’re only twenty-four. You’ve got all the time in the world to find out what you want to do. I know we don’t have the means right now, but I firmly believe that one day we will and then you can still go to uni if you want to, get a degree, and we’ll move into a beautiful old house on the countryside and have a dog or two, or five.”

Dan chuckles under tears and wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, kissing him hard, clinging to him as if for dear life. And in many ways, that’s true. Phil’s been there for him when no one else was, has helped him up onto his feet again, cared for and comforted him countless times, and Dan would be mad not to hold on to him. In Dan’s darkest days, Phil is like a ray of sunlight, so full of wisdom and courage and hope. And in all honesty, Dan doesn’t need a lot of money or a nice house if only he gets to keep Phil by his side.

Dan’s never been one for faith, but if there’s one thing he believes in it’s them. He knows that he loves Phil.

And if they’re lucky, that might just be enough to hold things together.

*** this used to be on my ao3 page (softiejace). i’m taking my phan content down from the for personal reasons but reposting it here so people can still enjoy it :) ***

#phanfic #my fic #softiejace #phan fic #phan

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jestbee · 7 years

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Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Eleven)

Title: Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Eleven) Tags: Alternate Timeline, AU, Slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers Words: 4480 Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to.

Author’s Note: After a short break, this is back! Thanks for sticking with me, I’ve really missed this :D

[AO3 Link]

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Chapter Eight] [Chapter Nine] [Chapter Ten]

The videos come out over the next four weeks. Dan visits often. When one is uploaded they’ve developed a sort of ritual of waiting for each other to watch them and Dan will text Phil sometime in the evening, or he won’t, either way he’ll show up. Phil ends up giving him the code for the downstairs door because it’s easier to just let him in when he knocks than it is to buzz him up since he knows he’s coming anyway.

There are a few times, after the video has finished and they are plunged into the quiet darkness of Phil’s flat, that they move on to other videos, or a DVD, or video games. Prolonging the moment when Dan has to leave as though neither wants it to come. Dan sleeps on his couch a few times, and he’s always there in the morning.

It’s cosy and warm and Phil is getting to used to it, which is dangerous, especially when he knows it has a shelf life. Their video will be uploaded soon, and then there’s the wrap party for the whole group, and then they will have run out of excuses and Phil will have to deal with these feelings he has once and for all. To get over them, or to burn away with them, he hasn’t really decided.

PJ, at least, is the same as he always is. He drops round too, complaining he hasn’t seen Phil in ages and carting with him some weird card game that Phil can’t really get his head around but is trying his best at.

He’s just lost another hand, sat cross-legged on his living room carpet opposite PJ at the coffee table when there is that ever-familiar knock at his door. Phil gets up immediately.

“Expecting company?” PJ asks, his face surprised at how unsurprised Phil’s is.

“It’ll be Dan,” Phil explains with a shrug

“Dan?” PJ repeats. “Dan Howell?”

“Yeah.” Phil forgets that this is strange and unusual behaviour for Phil Lester.

“Since when does Dan Howell drop by your flat?”

“Um… since… you know, we worked together on the project. It’s just for that community thing, we watch the videos together when they’re uploaded. He’s probably here to watch tonight’s I forgot to tell him you were over. Should I have asked him to cancel?”

“No,” PJ smiles, his eyes twinkling with something that might be pride, but Phil has no idea what he has to be proud of, “the more the merrier.”

With a short nod, more to himself than to PJ, Phil goes to answer the door.

Dan doesn’t wait for an invitation inside, simply barrels in, chatting non-stop as he drops off a carrier bag in the kitchen.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he says, disappearing around the doorframe and out of Phil’s view.

Phil has no choice but to follow, just to keep up with whatever the heck it is Dan is going on about.

“Some guy on the tube on the way over here was quacking. Actually quacking, like a duck. I thought it was just you that attracted strange people but honestly…”

He keeps it up, the constant drivel of commentary, drifting from the kitchen once he’s deposited his bag, and heading to the living room.

“Is it catching do you think? The attracting strange people thing– oh. Hi. You’re PJ.”

Dan is in the doorway and turns his head back over his shoulder to look at Phil.

“Wow. I'm… such a dick. I totally didn’t know you had company. Because I just presumed didn’t I? Wow. Sorry. I'll… leave you to it.” He takes a few steps backwards but Phil moves up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, “We were just playing this weird game, you should join us.”

“That okay with you?” Dan asks PJ.

“Sure mate, the more the merrier,” PJ repeats, looking around Dan at Phil with an amused expression.

Dan gives Phil a last look of apology and then crosses the room to sit down opposite PJ on the carpet.

“What are we playing?”

Phil smiles at the two, they make a good picture, like a dream sequence of what his life might be like if he socialised more. Friends gathered and comfortable in his flat. But it’s like he’s watching it from the outside, too stuck in his own head to really immerse himself in it.

PJ begins to explain the rules of the game and while Dan’s brow furrows slightly, he nods as if he understands. Phil hesitates only briefly before taking a seat next to Dan, crossing his legs so that their knees brush, even though there is really no need for them to. PJ crooks and eyebrow over Dan’s head as looks down at the cards, Phil pretends he doesn’t see.

They play a few hands and Phil still doesn’t really understand the game, but he has an excuse for not really paying attention this time. PJ and Dan get along famously, laughing and fondly chiding each other in a free and easy way Phil envies with every fibre of his being. They haven’t socialised much before tonight, Phil knows, but he thinks they’ll leave as friends. It warms something in him to think of the two closest people to him getting along. Which says something about him if he includes Dan stand-in-friend-for-the-sake-of-the-internet Howell as one of the people closest to him.

“I brought beer,” Dan says suddenly, as if just remembering, which is a new development, because he doesn’t usually.

Were they meant to drink it alone? Did Dan bring beer for him and Phil to drink while watching the latest youtube community video? It wouldn’t be entirely strange, he supposes, but still, it’s a novelty and for some reason it sends Phil’s mind wandering to imaginative places. So much so that he doesn’t catch himself as he watches Dan leave the room, a small sigh escaping him as he disappears.

“Phil,” PJ says, knocking him from his trance.

“Um, yeah? Sorry, what?”

“Phil…” PJ looks kind of mad, the space between his brows shrunk into a dipped line, harsh and judgemental, “I said you should make friends with him not fall for the guy.”

“Wha-what?” Phil stammers, “What the hell are you… talking about?”

It’s a token protest at best, because PJ doesn’t look like he’s believing it and Phil isn’t putting much emotion behind it.

“Oh god,” he says instead, dropping his forehead into his hand. Their voices are low, dipped so that Dan can’t hear them.

“On the one hand,” PJ is saying, “I mean… it’s great that you're… you know, getting out there. But… Phil, come on, is it wise? After everything that–”

“No, no, no” Phil says, his hands waving wildly in front of PJ’s face as if trying to push the words back into his mouth, “No no no. We’re not… He doesn't…. No.”

“Okay,” PJ says finally, patting ineffectually at Phil’s hands to get them to stop, “Like I said, I’m glad you’re getting out there. You know, not that long ago you wouldn’t have been able to… you found it difficult. But… I mean Phil, another YouTuber? Really?”

“I know,” Phil says, shaking his head and dipping his eyes, not even wanting to see how pathetic he is reflected in PJ’s expression. “I’m dealing with it. It’s all over soon anyway and then it won’t matter. Like you said, maybe it’s just the start of me like getting out there a little bit… yeah. After this… I can… you know… move on to something… better.”

PJ only gets as far as nodding in reply before Dan is back in the room carrying three glass bottles of beer. It isn’t the horrible kind that Phil usually hates, the ones he gets stuck holding at parties, it’s the light Mexican kind, laced with tequila or similar. He’s jammed a wedge of lime into the rim of the bottle and Phil knows the sour will mix with the taste of the beer and tequila and end up tasting quite nice.

They play a few more hands of the game while they sip, and Dan fills the awkward silence with his large, brash personality and Phil is thankful for it because he has no idea what he would say to either of them right now. His head is full of PJ’s disapproval, because of course this is all a stupid idea, given his history, and he’d honestly turn it off if he could but one look at Dan, sweeping the fringe from his eyes with the back of his index finger while staring down at his cards and Phil knows it’s hopeless. Just the sweet curve of his mouth twisted into a slight frown at a bad hand is enough to flip Phil’s stomach over.

PJ leaves soon after, needing to get home to Sophie, and Phil walks him to the door.

“He’s a cool guy,” PJ is saying, “Just… be careful.”

“You know I always am,” Phil sighs, “Too careful. Isn’t that my problem? You’re always saying that is my problem.”

PJ nods, “I know. Maybe some of that caution has rubbed off on me. Mostly I just don’t really understand because … well, Dan is very out-there isn’t it? Social media wise. I thought that’d be the last thing you wanted.”

“It is,” Phil insists, “I don’t actually… look, I’m not going to do anything. It’s an infatuation, he’s cute or whatever and I’m dipping my toe in.”

“If you say so Phil, looks a little more than a physical crush to me though mate, you’re fairly gone on him.” “I can’t be,” Phil shrugs, “can I? Another Youtuber? Please… there are so so many reasons why that is the most insane thing I could possibly do. And anyway, Dan would never… it’s not like that.”

“I’m not arguing with you on any but that last point,” PJ says, “He’d be a fool not to. Just…”

“Be careful,” Phil repeats, “I know.”

PJ nods, hugs him very very briefly, staying out of Phil’s space in a way he appreciates when he’s feeling this prickly, like his skin might erupt into flame, and then he leaves.

He returns to the living room and to Dan who immediately begins expounding on how much fun the game had been and how good it was to get to know PJ a little more and–

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes I’m fine.”

“…okay.” Dan says, his eyes narrowing briefly, “If you say so. You want to watch the community video now?”

“Yes.”

They watch the video, and then a few more. Dan slides closer to him on the couch, their legs pressed together from hip to knee even though there is more than enough room for them to sit with space between them.

Eventually they end up with animal videos and autoplay taking over their choosing of them and Dan is wavering between awake and asleep and Phil silently pulls the blanket from the back of the couch like he always does.

“I should go,” Dan whispers into the darkness that has fallen over Phil’s living room.

“If you want to,” Phil replies, moving to put the blanket back again.

“I said I should” Dan clarifies, “not that I wanted to. I’m not good at making wise decisions when I want something. I’m trying to get better at that.”

Phil doesn’t try to make sense out of Dan’s tired babbling, instead just passes the blanket to him and Dan does nothing but hug it to his chest. He can make out Dan’s profile in the light of the laptop, the curve of his nose, the dip of his dimple thrown into stark relief in the harsh glow.

“Me too.” Phil says finally. Knowing that Dan is not a wise decision, but he keeps making it, over and over.

“You’re always careful,” Dan insists, sleepily.

“Maybe I’m trying not to be,” Phil breathes, the words only barely there on his exhale. “Or I’m not as good at is as I used to be.”

There is a beat of silence, thick, heavy and loaded with suggestion. Dan turns his head to look Pil square in the face, his eyes soft, and Phil thinks if there was ever a moment that something could happen it would be now. Something rises in his chest, dangerous and reckless, like the pull to the edge of a building, making him want to tip forward just to try something for once, to put himself out there. But it passes, and he tries not to feel too disappointed when Dan lays backwards, stretches out on his couch, kicking out at him lightly.

“Go on then, get out. Let me sleep.”

Phil laughs, letting the lightness of it ease the dull throb of pain in his heart and stands. He closes the laptop lid, tucking it under his arm and leaves Dan to sleep. PJ is right, he needs to be more careful, this is starting to get out of hand.

–

He’s more restrained after that. Heeding PJ’s advice and his own nagging conscience telling him how stupid he’s being and he begins to school himself back into the realms of AmazingPhil. Perhaps, he argues with himself, if he can just be the person he’s supposed to be, the one that Dan likes from the internet, the one that can give him all the things he wants, the follow count and the recognition, Dan might stay.

He’s aware how crazy that sounds, how close it is to falling into a repeat of behaviours that have gotten him in trouble before, and how he’s prolonging the thud thud thud of painful longing in his chest by wishing Dan will stay close by, but that pain is the only reminder he has that he’s still capable of feelings at all. He’s scared that without it he’ll go back to how he was before, friendless and isolated, and now he’s had a taste of what it could be, easy and carefree, he wants more of it.

It’s easy to slip into the persona and if Dan notices, it is only in the small glance of a frown every now and again when Phil makes a particularly off-kilter comment more suited to his channel than how they’ve been recently. He doesn’t offer comment though, simply gazes at him or else flicks his eyes to the side to avoid it. Phil watches it happen but doesn’t do anything to correct himself because at least Dan is staying, for now.

Phil is tweeting, too. Giving little glimpses into their times hanging out and Dan replies regularly. The fans are going crazy over the ‘domestic’ nature of them and speculation is rife. It’s pretty accepted in their corner of the internet that the 'surprise’ video at the end of the month is going to be theirs, so by the time the day arrives the hype online is intense.

“This is going to change things for us,” Dan is saying excitedly.

He’s in Phil’s flat again, on the side of the couch that is slowly becoming his and Phil has even bothered to buy snacks his time, something Dan had teased him about because as far as hosting goes Phil hasn’t been great up to this point.

They’re not on the laptop this time, instead Phil has hooked up YouTube on his TV for the occasion, wanting to bring a little bit of something special to the proceedings seeing how he’s convinced this is the last time Dan is going to be in his flat, the project is over, they don’t need to hang out anymore.

“You think one collab is going to have that much of an effect?” he asks, fishing a Dorito from the bowl on the table and crunching on it happily.

“I think the amazing video you made is going to showcase your talent and increase your subscriber count, yeah.”

He says it so casually, as if bestowing the praise is easy for him, effusing from his being like water, drenching over Phil, cooling him.

“The video we made,” Phil corrects, shaking his head, trying not to allow the compliment to take root there, “the concept was your idea, really.”

“But I couldn’t have done it without your amazing filming and editing skills, Phil. You’re truly talented, you could direct big movies one day.”

Phil feels his face colour and he shoves at Dan’s arm to distract himself, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Dan insists, laughing so that his whole face lights up and Phil wants to take it in his hands and swallow it down.

“But your story telling was what made it great, you have a real knack for the way you put words together… maybe you should write the movie script. Or star in it. You’re great at acting. I’d let you have creative input on the cinematography too.”

“Cheers,” Dan says, eyes dancing through the sarcasm. “I’ll just do all the work and you tell them where to point the camera? Seems like a fair split!”

Phil imagines then what it might be like to work with Dan on something bigger, a larger project that combines their talents into something their audiences could enjoy. He thinks about how that would mean getting more of Dan’s attention, more of his time, more of those smiles aimed directly at him, so wonderful and bright he could go blind from it.

He tries to remind himself not to get too attached to them, because this is ending tonight. This is the last time.

They refresh the page once more and the video is there, their phones chiming in perfect sync as they each receive a notification.

“Here we go,” Dan says.

Phil just nods and clicks play.

Watching the video in this space is strange. They’ve seen it before, countless times, played back on Phil’s computer while they edit, but this is different. They aren’t perched on separate chairs for one, but are as close together on his couch as they always are. And they can’t make changes, if they see anything they don’t like this time, it’s out there for the world to see.

“I’m glad we didn’t change anything,” Dan says in a hushed tone, doing that thing where he reads Phil’s mind a little bit. “I’m glad you talked me down from my crazy neuroses about it.”

Phil huffs a laugh, because the thought that he can help anyone with their issues is astounding, because he can’t sort his own out so he’s no idea how to do it for anyone else.

“The video is great,” Phil assures him again, doing the impossible and reaching out to pat at Dan, meaning to go for his arm but finding his hand drop on his knee. Dan doesn’t visibly react so he probably gets away with it.

The story on screen is once again tugging at him. He watches as Dan’s character is lit solely by the glow of a laptop screen, head surrounded by a duvet. It’s the perfect depiction of a lonely teen watching YouTube for solace. It will resonate with the viewers in a great way, but Phil too understands that longing to be apart of something.

His own character going about the business of making videos, scrolling through twitter and then, yes, noticing the lonely teen finally. Then a montage, a series of Tweets, Skype Calls, Text Messages before finally… a bustling train platform, Phil stationery by the stairs and Dan making his way across, slow at first and then at a run, almost colliding with him.

“You’re real,” Dan had said, which hadn’t been in the script but had been a better line than the one that they’d planned. Phil grins, wide and happy and they turn, heading off for whatever adventures await them.

There’s a final shot, a video Dan’s character has made finally being uploaded, Phil looking on supportively, so the cycle can start again. This doubles out to screen after screen, thumbnail after thumbnail, depicting the growth of the community if everyone encourages each other, reaches out, works together. It doubles and doubles until the screen is impossibly covered in screencaps, Dan’s lost amongst the crowd, the colours of them forming the YouTube logo which sits for a second before the screen fades to black.

“God,” Dan says when it ends, Phil reaching to stop the next video from playing.

“Yeah.”

“I sort of wish…” Dan starts before trailing off.

Phil pokes at him, a pointed finger sinking into the flesh of his upper arm. “What? You seeing editing mistakes?”

“No,” Dan clarifies, turning his full body, hitching one leg up onto the couch so that he is leaned in towards Phil. “I just sort of wish that something like that had actually happened sometimes. Like, I was that guy, watching YouTube by myself in my room. It would have been nice to meet someone back then, a good friend.”

Phil nods, because at the time Dan is talking about he could probably have done with a good friend too. Something a little more honest, innocent, something not tearing him up from the inside.

“I do too,” he agrees, “I wish things were different. But hey, you got into YouTube anyway!”

“I did,” Dan nods, “I procrastinated the hell out of it, and I probably could have done with something as encouraging as that but… I got there eventually.”

“I’m glad,” Phil says, honestly. “Twitter time?”

Dan nods and pulls out his phone.

They spend some time replying to fans on Twitter who have seen the video, answering questions about it and saying that no, short films isn’t something they’ve done before but yes they’d enjoyed it. Someone asks if they’d ever work together again and Dan is diplomatic in his answer that he loves collaborating and is always open to people with great ideas. It doesn’t really answer whether he’d work with Phil again specifically, but Phil doesn’t press the issue because Dan is a master at saying only exactly what he wants to on social media, and nothing more.

They give up after about forty five minutes because they can’t possible answer everyone, as much as phil would like to, and it’s beginning to descend into the 'phan’ side of things and Phil knows those interactions are best left well alone. They don’t even need to discuss it.

When they’re done Phil reaches for the remote to put something else on, it’s the same gesture he’s done a bunch of times so he’s mildly surprised when Dan begins to stand.

“I should go,” Dan says.

“Should?” Phil asks, bravely, “Or are?

Dan’s face relaxes into a kind of smile, it is one for all intents and purposes but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes in the way that Phil is used to. Instead, they look flat and sad.

"I am.”

“O-Okay.” Phil says, standing as well, “I'll… show you out.” Which is stupid because Dan knows where the door is, he knows all the corners of Phil’s tiny flat by now, he’s spent time here enough.

The walk to the door is like a funeral march, a slow plod to the end of all of this, there are no statements of 'see you tomorrow’ and no promises of anything else nestled between them. It’s done, and as much as Phil might have longed for this moment a month or so ago he finds that it’s sitting heavy on him, like a stone.

“This is it,” Dan says, redundant because Phil knows what his own front door looks like.

“This is it.” Phil repeats.

Dan shrugs into the jacket over his arm, running a hand distractedly through his hair, shuffling and fidgeting, doing everything not to meet Phil’s gaze until finally, he takes a breath, looks like he’s decided, and looks up.

“Thanks for… everything,” he says, “I had a really good time on this project.”

“Yeah…” Phil hates the sound of his voice, it’s wispy and pathetic, all tangled around those pesky feelings churning in his chest so that it can’t come out the way he intends, “me too.”

There is still no suggestion of anything more, and Phil wants to say 'let’s do it again’ or even something as flimsy and intangible as 'see you soon’, he wants to say these because he can’t say 'stay’ or 'don’t go’.

Instead he says nothing more, because on top of the thin way his voice is stretched, he can’t trust what words would come out were he to attempt anything at all.

Dan slips into the silence, leans forward, arms extended. They wrap around Phil’s shoulders unexpectedly and pull him close. He doesn’t keep himself bent away this time, presses against Phil’s body tightly, toes nudging at the tips of Phil’s own and Phil can hear the rush of breath escaping him in his ear.

He doesn’t know what to do, simply goes with his instinct, with his want, and curls his arms around Dan’s waist, holding him tighter, trying to communicate something, anything at all, just with the touch.

“Take care,” Dan says as they part, and this is worse than goodbye. Goodbye could mean 'later’ it could have anything bundled into it. 'Take care’ is final, and it stabs into Phil’s chest, the warmth of Dan’s body long gone, and takes root.

“You too.”

Phil feels himself drift as Dan takes hold of the door handle, sparing him another little glance as he slips into the hallway and then a small, casual wave, as if nothing is wrong even though it feels like Phil’s world is crumbling away.

He watches as Dan rounds the corner at the end of the hall, memorising the soft curve of his shoulders, the broad expanse of his back. He lets the image sit for a while, closing the door to his flat and wandering back to his living room to gaze at the space Dan has left on his couch, wondering how long it will take before he stops thinking of it as belonging to him, before he stops expecting him to show up of an evening.

It’s done, he tells himself, it was great while it lasted but it’s time to start the business of getting over it. Like PJ said, it was just a way for him to get out there a little bit, he’s proved he can do it, it’s time to move on to something a little wiser, something that doesn’t scare him beyond belief… something that doesn’t make his heart beat wildly and his palms sweaty and his head float. Something that doesn’t make him as happy as Dan might have. It’s time to just let it go.

#myfics #fanfic #phanfic au #phanfic #phanfiction #fanfiction #phan #dnp #dan and phil #au #phanfic fluff #ao3 update #fic update

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voguewoozi · 8 years

Note

College au? I'll let your creativity run free from there ;D (also what the heck, I'm planning on my major/minor to be English too?)

College Freshmen Are Loud

Read it on ao3! & send in a prompt!

Summary: The noise in Dan’s dorm hall is cutting into his sleep. Phil provides a solution

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: thank u, ryanne. I love college aus :(( (we should talk majors)

Dan wakes up to the sound of a chair hitting a wall at 2:47 am, and he’s fine until he hears giggles that eventually grow louder. This is the fourth time this week that people on his floor have come back drunk, and honestly, it was annoying the first time. Now it’s cutting into his sleep and he has early morning classes that he wants to be conscious for. He breathes out exasperatedly and clenches his bed sheets for a second before rolling onto his side and covering his ears with his pillow. It’s pretty effective, but he has to hold it in place and his arms start cramping after a minute and a half. He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.—“Are you alright? You look terrible,” is the first thing Dan hears when he enters his 7:40 lecture. If it were anyone but Phil, he’d say it put him in an even worse mood. He manages a smile, despite his brain feeling ten times slower than usual, and slumps down into the chair beside Phil.“Thanks. I got no sleep last night because the assholes on my floor think it’s funny to be extremely loud during all hours of the fucking night,” Dan says, sighing a bit melodramatically. He can’t help it. It sucks and there’s nothing he can do. He’s already tried moving, but there’s no empty singles, and he doesn’t want to even briefly entertain the thought of moving in with someone else. He gets it, he totally does. The idea of having a roommate is exciting for a lot of people; it’s just not for him. At all. He’s having a difficult enough time dealing with having people rooms away from him.“What do they do? Is it really that bad?” Phil asks. He’s smirking but Dan literally doesn’t have enough energy to roll his eyes.“I’m pretty sure one of them broke a window last night,” Phil laughs at that, and the sound makes him smile for the first time that morning. He kinda hates the effect Phil has on him, but he usually just elects to ignore it. There’s no chance Phil likes him. And he’s graduating this year. Surely the age difference would be weird. Does Phil even like guys?He’s broken out of his thoughts by a nudge to his side and he jumps slightly, remembering where he is.“You might wanna start taking notes,” Phil whispers, lines of words already covering his page. Dan can’t stop himself from blushing, but Phil’s attention is back on the professor.Dan sits there for an hour and fifteen minutes, sporadically taking notes and daydreaming before he finally gets to pack up his stuff. He’s thinking about grabbing something to eat before his next class, when a hand comes down on his shoulder.“Hey, if your hall is too loud again tonight, you’re always welcome to stay in my room. My roommate’s never around.” Dan is taken aback by Phil’s offer; for a second he thinks his sleep-deprived brain made it up. He’s silent and slack-jawed for a few seconds too long, and Phil’s face begins to look unsure.“You don’t have to or anything, I was just-”“No, I want to!” Dan says quickly, awkwardly grabbing Phil’s wrist in the process. They both look down and Dan lets go immediately, bringing his hand to the back of his own neck.“I mean, yeah, if I can’t sleep, right, I’ll do that,” he does a vague finger gun motion and hates himself.“Okay, so I’ll see you later, maybe?” Phil asks, and his smile is back but Dan’s heart is still beating a mile a minute.“Yeah, I’ll text you,” Dan sounds breathless and that’s because he is, he just hopes Phil doesn’t notice. He wouldn’t point it out if he did.“Cool,” it’s the last thing Phil says before he turns with a small wave and walks in the opposite direction Dan’s going. Dan feels like his skin is burning off, but he can’t stop smiling.— He listens closely. It’s a little after 11, and for once he can’t hear anyone screaming, and he thinks that it’s probably because the world hates him. The cutest guy Dan’s ever seen in his life invites him to his room and for the first time since he moved in, these assholes are what? Asleep at a decent hour? He rolls over in his bed, and closes his eyes for exactly six seconds before he makes his decision. He stands up and packs a set of clothes, and the books he needs for class tomorrow, and steps outside into the cold air. For as much determination that he had on the walk to Phil’s dorm, when he’s actually outside his door, he hesitates. He brings his hand up to knock a few times, even thinking about going back to his room and just going to sleep because it’s getting late and he needs a few hours, at least. He finally does it, three quick taps and his heart rate accelerates as he waits for it to open. “Hey,” Phil says, calmly, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing for Dan to enter. Dan has only been in Phil’s room once for a minute, so he’s never had the opportunity to really look around. His eyes roam over the insignificant details, and he doesn’t realize Phil’s talking to him until he’s halfway through his sentence. “-never around, like I said. So, that’s a plus, I guess,” Dan blinks, but when he doesn’t respond, Phil turns to face him. “Uh, sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Dan says, stuttering and blushing. He should probably just lie down and try to forget any of this happening. “It’s so quiet here,” he says instead, putting his backpack down and attempting to relax. He has nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine. “This must be a completely new experience for you. How’s it feel?” Phil asks. It seems like it doesn’t matter what Phil does, Dan finds himself completely enamored, which is putting him at a slight disadvantage. He doesn’t think that’s really fair. “It’s… weird. I think it’s almost too quiet.” Dan had gotten so used the ambient noise of talking and laughing that the quiet was a bit confounding. “Well that won’t be a problem for long. I’ve been told that I talk in my sleep.” Dan’s eyes widen at the admission and Phil continues, “Not that I would know for sure. It’s not like I’m there when it happens.” Dan laughs, and he has to stop doing that, it wasn’t that funny. But Phil smiles, and Dan forgets his impulses all at once. “Speaking of sleep, you probably want to do that now. That’s why you’re here.” Phil’s cheeks go pink for a change, and for a moment, Dan thinks it’s refreshing, but then he’s smiling. He can’t seem to catch a break. “So… what are the…” Dan searches for an appropriate term, but the best he can come up with in under three seconds is “sleeping arrangements”. He hadn’t thought about the implications of the night before going over, and what did he think would happen? Phil only has one bed. Mathematically, only one thing works. “Sleeping on the floor is no big deal to me, really. It’s fine,” Dan fills in quickly before Phil can get a word. “What? No, I invited you over so you could finally get a good night’s sleep. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor,” Phil says, strongly, not leaving any room for argument. “Well, it’s your room, so I can’t make you sleep on the floor,” Dan counters. As the last word falls off of his tongue, he understands what he said, what it could be construed to mean. “Are you suggesting that we share the bed?” Despite his earlier embarrassment and uncertainty, Phil says this with a hint of a smirk on his lips. Dan wants to stop existing, but he also really wants to sleep in the same tiny twin-sized bed as Phil Lester. He’s almost certain that he’s never wanted anything more in his life. “I mean… what I meant to say was, I wouldn’t have a problem with it seeing as we both just want to sleep, and you know, back support is an important thing. Can’t get that from the floor…” Dan feels more self-conscious with every passing second as Phil’s smug grin reaches more parts of his face. Like his eyes. “Yeah, I agree. Should we go to sleep then?” Without waiting for a reply, Phil hops into his bed and pats the space next to him. It’s not a very big space, and that makes Dan simultaneously excited and terrified. How were they supposed to negotiate this? There weren’t very many comfortable positions they could find this way. After a moment of fidgeting limbs and rustling bed sheets, Phil’s arm comes to rest around Dan’s waist. His fingers trace a small pattern, and then he tenses. “Is this okay? It’s the only comfortable place for my arm.” Dan smiles at the concern in Phil’s voice but his heart beat is erratic, and he’s worried Phil can feel it. “Yeah, it’s fine,” Dan manages, nearly choking on the first syllable. He can’t believe this is actually happening. “Goodnight, Dan.” “Yeah, goodnight…”— When Dan’s alarm goes off in the morning, he attempts to turn over but is stopped. His eyes shoot open and he remembers that he’s not in his room. Phil’s arm is still draped over him, slightly tighter now that he’s tried to move. He wonders how to go about this without it being too awkward, grabbing Phil’s hand and attempting to move him carefully so he doesn’t wake up. But then Phil’s hand squeezes and he breathes in, stretches and freezes. His grip loosens and his breathing stops for a moment. Maybe he doesn’t know Dan is awake yet. He can play it off like he’s just waking up now. He’s a pretty good actor, he could pull it off. “You’re gonna be late to class,” Phil says. His sleep-muddled voice startles Dan, and Phil definitely knows he’s awake now. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t if you let go of me.” Dan has no idea what made him so bold all of a sudden, but he bites his tongue and holds his breath, waiting for a response. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Phil says, moving his arm back to his side. Dan feels relieved and disappointed all at once, but he sits up anyway. He’s about to get up to change and then leave when Phil grabs his hand again. He looks back at Phil and his messy hair and his perfect lips. “You should come back when your class is over. We could get lunch or something.” Dan smiles softly and Phil’ thumb traces nervous circles onto the back of his hand. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” Dan can’t stop his smile from growing and he probably looks stupid, but he doesn’t care. “I’ll see you later then,” Phil says, bringing Dan’s hand to his lips for a brief second and then letting him go. Dan never sleeps in his own bed again.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #college au #phan college au #my fics #I finally did one ive been so busy :((#answered

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