#but Tbf I copied it from my Lock Screen the whole time

[alessandra-estrella]

[phantasticworks]

Take a Picture (It'll Last Longer)

so. here i am again (soz) but I really just couldn't wait a second longer to post this fic. So this is just part one, and there will be a part two posted soon(ish). and yes i did in fact decide the phandom needed yet another photography fic (although, tbf i started writing this back when those were still cool and popular)

read on ao3

Words: 21.6k

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at 2 a.m. in a coffee shop. Phil is a photographer looking for a model, and Dan can't say no to pretty boys.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, light angst

It was a weird situation.

Scratch that. It was an insane, very unlikely, but somehow still copacetic situation. See, Dan didn’t have anything better to do with his time (aside from the time he spent facedown on the floor dreading his very existence, he was pretty much a free agent) and Phil had been rather... convincing.

Not in that way.

Well.

No, no, not in that way. Not really, at least.

They met in the way most caffeine-driven, insomniac uni students do when they’re struggling through assignments at two am and would absolutely kill for some caffeine; they met at a coffee shop. Dan’s favorite coffee shop, actually, although by the end of the evening that fact would be used against him in order for one particularly passionate and newly inspired photographer to get his way.

“A caramel macchiato, please. And, uh... pistachio muffin?” Dan pulls his wallet out of his pocket, digging inside until he finds a tenner. The change she hands him back is deposited into the tip jar, and she offers him a small smile.

“Thank you, I’ll be right back with your drink.”

Dan nods, stepping to the side and very nearly bumping into someone else. “Whoops, sorry, mate.” Unconsciously, he reaches a hand out to steady the other person. Dan’s eyes flick up and meet pale skin, blue eyes, and a very disheveled looking quiff.

“No, it’s my bad, really. I wasn’t even paying attention,” the man replies, quiet embarrassment covering his tone.

Stepping back a respectable distance, Dan tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. He’s wearing a red and black plaid shirt with the top button undone, and over that is a stonewashed denim jacket. His legs, miles of them it seems, are painted with the black skinnies that his hands are awkwardly tucked into, in sort of a weird backward claw. He’s got a bag slung over his left shoulder, a kind of boxy looking one that almost looks like a lunchbox. Dan is faintly aware of the fact that this stranger is watching Dan check him out, but if he has a problem with this, the man doesn’t say so. After an assessing gaze, Dan’s eyes flick back up to blue ones hidden behind simple black framed glasses.

“Caramel macchiato,” the chipper voice behind the counter says, interrupting whatever silent conversation Dan is having with this stranger.

“That’s me,” Dan says with a small smile, stepping to the side to grab his drink and muffin.

“Funny, that’s me as well,” the stranger jokes, stepping up to the counter, closer to Dan than is probably strictly necessary. Dan doesn’t find that he minds. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He tilts his head, squinting at the hand Dan is holding his muffin in. “What kind of muffin is that?”

“Pistachio,” Dan responds.

“Hm,” he considers. To the girl behind the till, he says, “Scratch that, same drink but I’d prefer a raspberry almond cream scone.”

The girl nods, ringing him up and telling him the total. It occurs to Dan, while they’re having this interaction, that he has no reason to stay there. He’s already gotten his food, and he doesn’t know this man. There’s really no reason to stand there and wait on him. And yet, Dan sees no reason to go rushing off back to his shitty little flat with his annoying roommates who hate him. He shifts from foot to foot, contemplating on how creepy it is for him to stand there waiting for a stranger.

Before he has the chance to properly freak out about it, the man turns his head, smiling when he sees Dan still stood there. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asks politely.

This feels like it’s a challenge in some way, but Dan can’t decide how. He’s even less sure about how he would handle it even if it was. Two seconds away from lying, he stutters out a fumbled, “I- no.”

The smile grows into a full blown grin, and Dan can’t help but focus on the little bit of pink tongue poking between his teeth. “Perfect! I could use the company.”

Dan doesn’t have time to argue against that. As soon as the man is handed his order, he thanks the cashier and turns to look at Dan, gesturing to the sofas in the corner. Nodding, Dan follows him over and takes an awkward seat on one end of the ugly, green crushed velvet sofa closest to the window. The man has already laid out his scone and drink, and he hands Dan a napkin as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks,” Dan says, holding the napkin in his hand like an idiot. When the guy smiles at him, Dan tries to copy it, but he knows it’s awkward. “I’m Dan,” he says dumbly, moving to hold his hand out for a handshake. He realizes a second too late that he still has his drink in his hand. His face floods with color, and he’s quick to set it down and try again.

Blue eyes crinkle on the edges of a smile, and the man reciprocates the handshake in a much less awkward fashion. “I’m Phil.”

Dan nods, tugging his hand away when it feels appropriate to do so. It hasn’t set in until then, but the true awkwardness of this situation, of having a two am coffee and snack with a stranger, really sets in. “So, um... caramel macchiato?” His voice is stilted, awkward, even to his own ears.

Phil quirks a brow and bites his lip as if to hide a smile. “Yeah, reckon it’s my favorite.”

“Good favorite to have,” Dan replies. He reaches for his drink and takes a large sip. It’s sweet, sweeter than he’d usually like at this time of day (or night, depending on how you looked at it) but it was still nice. His hands shake a bit as he goes to set it down, so he tucks his hands under his thighs to hide it. Glancing up at Phil, he frowns, surprised to find him already looking back.

Phil has an easy smile on his lips, and he leans back on the sofa, pulling his legs up to sit in a criss-cross fashion as he regards Dan. “I’m guessing you’re a student?” Phil asks.

Dan’s lips twist but he forces a nod. “Yeah,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably.

Despite Dan’s awkwardness, Phil appears intrigued, leaning in with a smile. “What are you studying?”

“Law.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and his nose scrunches at the thought.

Phil smiles, his lips curling as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes sparkle above the cup, as if they’re sharing some sort of secret. Dan kind of likes the way that feels. “What did you want to study?” Phil asks, as if that’s something you just ask someone you’ve only just met.

Dan can’t help but bristle. “I... what makes you think I don’t want to do law?” He crosses his arms, defiant.

The look Phil sends him implies that the question is a stupid one. “Your face kinda gave it away, mate.” He does that smile again, the one with his tongue between his teeth, and Dan nearly swoons.

“Okay, well, no, it’s not exactly my dream career.” Dan can’t believe he’s admitting this to a complete stranger. He hasn’t even admitted this to his parents yet. Not to mention the other, more personal thing he hasn’t admitted to them yet. He won’t be sharing that today, though. At least, he doesn’t plan on it.

Phil leans in again, hovering close like they’re sharing secrets. “What is your dream career?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Dan stares at him instead of responding. Something clicks in his head, and he recognizes this as some form of flirting. He can’t, or rather doesn’t want to, deal with that. So he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs. Loudly and awkwardly. “Don’t think we know each other well enough for me to share all my hopes and dreams, mate.”

There’s a flash of a grin but then Phil settles back, his mouth forming a vague smirk as he tucks into his scone. Watching him eat serves as a reminder that Dan has his own food, a reminder he’s grateful for as soon as Phil catches his gaze. Cheeks warm, Dan quickly reaches for his pistachio muffin, tearing it apart and eating it in little bits.

He hears a laugh from beside him, but at this point he pays no mind to it. His whole reason for leaving his shitty little flat at two in the morning was to get one of these delightful muffins, and despite the distraction, he was actually very hungry, and after the first bite he can’t help but snarf the rest of it up. He’s mid-chew, barely holding in a noise of pure joy at how fluffy the pastry is, when he hears a camera shutter.

Dan startles. His muffin very nearly faces an untimely death, but with the secret muffin-saving ninja powers he didn’t know he had, he manages to save it before it hits the floor. Choking down the bite in his mouth, Dan turns his head, staring past the rather impressive looking camera lens and glaring daggers into Phil’s eyes.

“Um... What the fuck?”

Phil at least has the decency to look sheepish. He lowers the camera, his gaze locked on what Dan assumes is the screen, which is probably displaying the likely incredibly unflattering photo of Dan.

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes, half-heartedly. “You just... I don’t know, sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Dan clears his throat, sitting forward to place his muffin down. He dusts the crumbs off his lap, his gaze flicking from Phil to the camera. “Well? Let me see it.”

“Oh.” Phil looks surprised. Dan hates that he thinks that’s endearing. “Well, it’s not very good, I wasn’t going for something perfect, and the lighting is off, so-“

“If I’m modeling without my knowledge or consent, I’m seeing the result,” Dan deadpans.

Phil actually looks proper embarrassed now. “I am sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Clearly. Hand it over.” He reaches for the camera, but doesn’t snatch it. He was raised better than that, obviously.

With another sheepish look, Phil gently sets the camera down in Dan’s awaiting palm. He handles the camera carefully, but with steady, sure hands. Belatedly, Dan realizes that the camera must have been in the bag he’d mistaken for a lunchbox earlier. The camera is heavier than he’d been expecting, but then again Dan’s never really had much reason to hold a camera before, especially not one of this caliber.

He has to click the center button to wake the screen back up, and when he does he squints to see the picture better. His breath catches. The picture isn’t fantastic, from a subjective point of view. Although maybe that’s just his bias, as he’s the subject of it and it’s not exactly a flattering pose. He’s got a pleased look on his face, his index finger between his lips, clearly stuffing food in his mouth. There are crinkles by his eyes and regardless of the fact that no one looks good shoving food down their throat, it’s actually... not a bad picture.

“I’m sorry, I know, it’s not like... great. The lighting isn’t perfect, and the angle is awkward, but you were just so... well, anyway. Sorry, again.” Phil’s rambling at this point, and Dan can’t be bothered to reply to any of it.

“It’s... it’s actually really good, Phil.” Dan’s eyes don’t leave the camera. Maybe that’s narcissistic, but he doesn’t actively hate the way he looks, not from Phil’s perspective. Glancing up at who is apparently a good photographer, Dan offers a cheeky grin. “You’re not half bad for a guy who takes creep shots of strangers in cafes in the middle of the night.”

Phil’s face falls, a pinkish tint crawling up his cheeks. “I-“

“I’m joking,” Dan assures him with an easy smile. He hands the camera back, a twisting feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this stranger has a piece of him he can’t get back. He doesn’t like that part of this, he realizes. Clearing his throat, he gestures at the camera. “What’re you gonna do with that photo?”

Phil gives him a small, knowing smile. This makes Dan’s gut twist in a different way. He’s not sure how to interpret this one. “I can delete it, if you’d like,” he says, shrugging. His gaze drops to the photo and his lips twist. A silent conjunction lies stagnant in the air between them.

“Okay... is that what you’re going to do with it?” Dan asks, because he can’t not ask. He hates to tell this man, who is clearly a good photographer, that he can’t keep the picture, but the part of him that cringes at the idea of someone else seeing it refuses to be silent.

“Well, I mean obviously I will if you want me to, but...” he trails off, his gaze flicking between Dan and the photo on the camera as if he can’t reconcile the two versions of him. Or maybe it’s something else. “I’m actually looking for a model.”

Dan can’t help it. He laughs.

It’s not even anywhere in the realm of an attractive laugh, as he fully snorts, and that sound in itself just makes him laugh harder. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to keep looking. I’m not a model.” He shakes his head at the very notion.

Phil quirks an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his camera, as if that proves literally anything.

“Oh come on!” Dan groans. “That? Seriously? I look like, like a troll! Or a- a hobbit!”

The exasperated look on Phil’s face says that he isn’t buying it. “No, you really don’t. But even if you did, given the right lighting, angle, and some time, I think you’d be surprised at how not-hobbit-like I could make you appear.”

There’s something hopeful behind Phil’s eyes, and Dan watches as his fingers skate almost nervously over the buttons on the camera. Dan’s almost inclined to agree just on the off-chance he might get a shot at seeing what else those fingers do. He immediately berates himself for the idea; he barely knows this guy, but from all indications he’s lovely and deserves more than Dan’s gutter thoughts.

“I don’t know the first thing about modeling,” he says instead of going anywhere near the mental path his brain is suggesting.

“You don’t have to. As long as you’re good at keeping still and following directions, all you need is a good photographer,” Phil insists. He’s got a cheeky look on his face. “And being pretty doesn’t hurt.”

Dan stares that flirty remark in the face and says, “Let me repeat myself, keep looking.”

Phil’s face crumples into something unsatisfied before eventually shifting into something resigned. “If you actually don’t know that you’re attractive, then you’re very daft.”

The remark, as blunt as it was, sends a rush of something warm through his chest and up his neck. Ducking his head to hide his reaction, he mumbles, “I barely know you.”

“I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Dan’s head immediately snaps back up and he squints at the man beside him. “Funny, that sounds exactly like what a murderer would say.”

Phil grins. “Would a murderer offer to do a background check to prove it?” Those blue eyes are sparkling with mischief, and Dan is about two seconds away from agreeing to something both dangerous and stupid.

Reaching for his forgotten drink to distract himself, Dan hums. “Dunno. Don’t reckon I’ve ever met a murderer.”

“Yet,” Phil says, his voice filled with unabashed glee.

Dan levels him with a thoughtful stare. “Yet,” he agrees, slowly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their pastries and drinks as Phil’s offer hangs above their heads. On the one hand, Dan really has nothing to lose. He’s bored of his life and his so-called friends who don’t seem to like spending time with him anyways, so it’s not like he’s losing out on precious social time if he agrees to it. On the other, he seriously doesn’t actually know Phil. He knows he’s a photographer who likes caramel macchiatos and that’s basically it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know the bloke’s last name.

“What’s your name?” Dan asks, breaking the silence so suddenly that Phil actually startles in his seat. “Sorry,” Dan offers a sheepish grin. “I’m just curious. What’s your full name?”

Phil smiles. “Philip Michael Lester.”

Dan nods. He sips. Then, “I reckon that sounds like the name of someone who isn’t a murderer.”

When he glances over, Phil is hiding a grin behind his hand. “You reckon so?”

“Yeah,” Dan shrugs. He thinks for a moment. “What kind of... like, modeling, do you want me to do? Like, I don’t know if I’m down to be naked for photos.”

Phil’s got an adorable flush crawling up his neck, likely at the blunt way Dan had phrased it, but he somehow still manages to meet Dan’s stare with something serious. “Just for photos?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to flush. “Shut up. Is this how you’re going to kill me? Lure me in with jokes and flirting and then cut off my willy when I’ve let my guard down?”

If Dan thought Phil’s face was red before, it’s literally nothing compared to the beautiful flush that paints his cheeks now. “No!” He hisses, looking over to the counter with panic in his eyes. Considering they’re the only customers and the cashier has retired to sitting on the counter playing with their phone, Dan thinks it probably safe to say that no one heard.

“Hey, I’m just asking! You can never be too careful. Lot of creeps out there,” Dan grins.

Phil shakes his head, hiding his horror behind his cup. “I’m starting to think you might be the murderer.”

Dan smiles, but it’s a bitter thing. “The only thing I kill is anyone’s desire to be around me for any length of time ever.”

It’s funny how quickly Phil’s expression changes. He lowers his cup, his gaze soft as it lands on Dan’s. For however long those moments are, they share some silent understanding. Even if Dan doesn’t know him, he recognizes that Phil gets it; maybe not on some deep psychological level, but Dan sees in the lack of pity or discomfort that Phil just... knows.

“If you promise not to kill me and I promise not to kill you, do you think you could maybe consider it?” Phil asks.

Dan’s grateful for the subject change, even though it forces him to focus on the topic at hand. He considers it for a moment, but really he already knew what his answer would be the moment Phil said he was attractive. If that makes him shallow, then so be it.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers and schedules that night, Dan agreed to meet Phil at his flat two weeks later for his first shoot. It made him vaguely uncomfortable to think of it like that but in the end that’s pretty much what it was, at least if Phil had anything to say about it. The man in question had yet to give Dan any explanation for why he was taking the photos to begin with, but Dan just assumed it was for a project. He did learn that Phil was finishing up his second degree, something Dan was immensely jealous of, considering he felt like dropping out half the time.

The days before they’re meant to meet seem to fly by, and when Dan shows up at the address he’d been given on Friday night, he’s practically vibrating with nerves. Despite the fact that they’d spent much of that time apart texting and getting to know one another, he still felt a little out of his depth stood at Phil’s door, especially knowing what awaited him on the other side.

Still, it’s not like he could easily get out of it now. So instead he texts Phil to let him know he’s there, waiting awkwardly on the steps in front of the building. Phil replies to let him know that he’d be down in a moment, so Dan stands, shifting from foot to foot, as he waits.

He’d been completely clueless as to how he needed to dress for this, and Phil had been no help at all. He’d instructed Dan to just wear something comfortable, that he was less concerned about costuming than he was the picture itself. Dan didn’t know much about photography, so he decided to listen. He’d chosen a pair of black jeans, not ripped for once, and a plain black jumper. His hair was a controlled mess, and after an hour of forcing straighteners over it, he managed to get it into something presentable.

The door in front of him swings open while he’s contemplating his choice of shoes, and he nearly falls over in surprise. He catches himself before he can, but the embarrassment of almost falling nearly has him turning around to leave until he catches sight of Phil’s pleased grin. “You made it!” He cheers, ushering Dan inside.

Dan quirks a brow at him. “Did you think I just texted you from my flat just to get a laugh when you realized I wasn’t here?”

Phil’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re like, maybe you never planned on showing up at all and it’s all just a big prank.”

If Phil wasn’t already leading the way upstairs, he’d see the incredulous look on Dan’s face. “That’s ridiculous. I’m right here.”

He watches Phil’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know that. Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination. Maybe you’re a figment of your own imagination. Who knows?” They stop at a door just off the staircase on the second floor, much to Dan’s relief. He wasn’t much for exercise and he wasn’t aware that today he’d be doing cardio, or he’d have worn a thinner shirt. “Maybe existence in itself is just a social construct,” Phil says conspiratorially, opening the door to his flat and sending Dan a mischievous grin.

“Stop, you’re gonna send me into an existential crisis,” Dan complains.

Phil is good-natured enough to laugh, which is refreshing compared to the usual groans and bitchiness Dan would hear from his friends for a similar comment. It’s nice.

Phil leads the way into his flat, and Dan distracts himself from his nerves by looking around, taking in all of the little knick knacks and decor. It’s not messy, per se, but it differs from Dan’s own flat in the way that it’s comfortably lived in. There’s not a whole lot of space, but somehow it doesn’t feel crowded or small. Dan wonders if that has anything to do with the bright colors, which, he notes, don’t seem to follow any sort of pattern or color scheme.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, I rarely have company.” Phil sounds apologetic as he moves further into the flat, bypassing the lounge and leading Dan into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

Dan nods, moving to settle on one of the barstools by the counter. “As long as it’s not of the alcoholic variety.”

Phil smiles as he moves around the kitchen, reaching into a cupboard for two glasses. Dan watches as the hem of his shirt rides up, showing just a little bit of skin before it settles back down. “You don’t drink?”

Shrugging, Dan leans forward on the counter, his arms folded. “Not with people I barely know,” he replies dryly.

There’s a flicker of something like hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s not there for long. “Ribena okay?”

“Sure.”

It’s a little bit awkward as Phil prepares their drinks in silence, which Dan attributes to the fact that they don’t really know each other that well. It’s hard to start a conversation with a stranger, especially when you’re in said stranger’s house. All things considered, though, Dan could be a lot more worried about that. Phil just seems to have this calming sort of energy to him, and it’s hard for Dan to reject that, even with his brain as messed up as it is.

“Here you go,” Phil says with a smile as he hands Dan a drink.

“Thanks,” Dan replies with a smile. He takes a sip, averting his eyes from Phil’s curious gaze. It’s a bit less watered down than he prefers, but he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. The sweetness is less of a whisper and more of a shout, and he smiles to himself when he thinks about Phil’s obvious sweet tooth.

“Alright?” Phil asks, sounding a little nervous.

Dan nods. “It’s good.” Clearing his throat, he gestures vaguely to Phil. “So, Mr. Photographer. What kind of photoshoot have you got in mind for me?”

At the mention of the reason for Dan’s presence, Phil grins. “Well, I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

Dan spares a confused glance at his drink but does as instructed, standing up to follow after him. Now that he’s being led into the lounge he’s got a chance to look around a little more and is surprised to see a bookshelf filled with familiar things, mostly video games and movies. There’s a couple odd knick knacks here and there that he recognizes from a game or anime. The thought that they actually have things in common startles Dan, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“So, for the portrait series I’m doing, I’m focusing more on a lifestyle, candid kind of photography. I’m still working on the basic theme but I’ve got some ideas for a couple of shots to get started.” Phil is explaining this as he’s moving around, grabbing his camera off the desk and moving to the glass door which Dan has just realized opens onto a balcony. Dan’s nodding along, pretending he gets it, while still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this man looked at him and felt he was worth capturing. “If you have any ideas or questions or anything, feel free to let me know. I’m usually pretty open-minded about things like that,” Phil says with a smile.

Dan nods again. “Alright. Well, uh... where do you want me?”

Phil grins, and Dan flushes when he realizes what it sounds like. Luckily, Phil doesn’t tease him for it. “I thought we’d start with the balcony. I’ve got some ideas that I wanna go ahead and do while the lighting is nice.”

With another nod, Dan moves towards the door. Then he comes to a halt, turning back around to face him. “Is what I’m wearing alright? I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

There’s a twitch of a smile on Phil’s lips at that. “What you’re wearing is perfect. You can take your shoes off though, if you want. Might be here a while.” There’s no hint of innuendo in his voice, but Dan can’t help but think about it anyway.

He toes his shoes off, glad for the brief distraction to calm himself down. After tucking his shoes out of the way near the door, he turns around, tugging on his sleeves as he waits for instruction. Phil isn’t looking at him right now, his focus on the balcony door. He pushes it open, steps back, and then tugs it in just a little bit. After staring at it for a moment he closes it, then nods to himself. If Dan wasn’t so confused, he’d probably laugh at him.

A few minutes of this go by and then Phil’s turning back around with a bright smile. “Alright, so for this to look candid and what not, I need you to like walk out onto the balcony as naturally as you can. We’ve got time to do it more than once, so it’s fine if the first couple of times feel awkward.”

“Okay,” Dan shrugs. He’s struggling to pretend he’s not nervous at this point but really, how can he not be? He doesn’t even know Phil but he wants this to work for him.

Dan moves towards the door, hyper aware of every movement of his feet as they drag across the floor. He doesn’t hear any other instruction, so he continues, pushing open the glass door and stepping onto the balcony. He also doesn’t hear the camera shutter, so with an embarrassed feeling in his chest, he turns to look at Phil.

Click.

“Um.” Dan blinks. “I thought...”

“Just checking that the camera is good to go,” Phil says, his lips twitching like he wants to smile. Dan can tell he’s lying, but doesn’t know how he’d feel about being called out for it.

“So... want me to go again?” Dan asks dumbly.

Phil nods, gesturing for him to come closer. “Here, just...” as soon as Dan is closer, he reaches out for him. Dan’s heart thumps out of beat, and Phil hesitates, smiling gently. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing to Dan’s shirt.

Dan can only nod, and Phil takes that as permission. He steps just a bit closer, and a wonderful scent of something fruity and sweet floods Dan’s senses. He’s trying to decide if it’s kiwi or something else when Phil’s gaze meets his, making Dan flush and drop his eyes. Phil’s camera is resting against his chest, the strap around his neck, and Dan tries to focus on that as Phil takes Dan’s sleeve and rolls it up almost to his elbow. He takes the other and copies the look, glancing over the rest of Dan before clearing his throat and stepping back.

“Am I ready for the camera?” Dan jokes, trying to ignore the racing of his heart and the way he can still smell faint traces of Phil’s cologne in the air between their bodies.

Phil’s suddenly heavy gaze drags from Dan’s hair down to his jeans, and he tilts his head, considering. “Depends. How comfortable would you be without your jeans?”

~~~

Dan cannot believe this. He simply cannot believe he agreed to this. Even an hour and a half later, it feels a bit like some weird fever dream. But no, there he is, in Phil’s flat, clad in nothing but a black jumper and black Calvins, modeling. If it could even be called that, because at this point Phil is mostly just engaging him in conversation, getting Dan distracted, and then snapping a photo. He very rarely asks for a specific pose, and Dan’s starting to wonder if he’s actually getting any good shots out of this or not.

Still, he won’t complain because so far he’s learned a lot about Phil. He’s 28, which surprised Dan at first, until he explained that he’d finished school with a degree in video post-production only to realize a couple years later that he was interested in photography. He’s not a full time student, but he’s enrolled in the photography course and loving it, apparently. Dan feels all sorts of out of place when Phil talks about school with such passion. It’s something he wishes he had, something he’d wanted for himself for years and never found.

Dan actually shares things about himself, as well. He offers up his own situation with school, admitting that he’d dropped out of uni a few years ago, only to get stuck with no job and no future until his parents made him agree to go back. He’s in his second year of law this time, which as a 24 year old, feels very embarrassing. Phil is all kind words and encouragement about this; Dan tries not to feel surprised that Phil is not only attractive and clever but also deeply empathetic.

“That’s really brave, you know,” Phil tells him. He’s sat on the only chair on the balcony, looking up at Dan with soft eyes. Dan shrugs, glancing away from him. He can’t handle the caring behind those eyes, he can’t let himself feel something more for this stranger other than vague appreciation and friendship. There’s the sound of the shutter clicking, and he levels Phil with an unimpressed stare. Phil grins and snaps another photo.

“It doesn’t feel brave,” Dan tells him, continuing their verbal conversation as he turns away, looking out on the city around them rather than stand facing Phil. He realizes belatedly that the height of the balcony and the way he’s leaning against it probably just look like he’s presenting his ass, but he’s already lost whatever self-consciousness he had about being nearly naked in front of someone he hardly knows.

“How does it feel, then?” Phil asks. Dan likes that. He likes that he doesn’t argue with Dan’s feelings, he asks him to explain them. Dan likes that a lot.

“Well, it feels like... I dunno. Like a waste of time.” He glances over when he hears the chair squeak to find Phil standing beside him. He’s got this open, welcoming expression on his face. Dan suddenly feels like he could tell him anything and Phil would just... know. “I feel like I’m wasting my time, or potential, or whatever.”

Phil nods. “I get that. I started out with English Language and Linguistics at uni. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t something I was like, super passionate about. Not enough to stick with it, and like, what the hell do you do with that kind of degree, you know?”

Dan shrugs. He doesn’t know, honestly, but it feels good to talk to someone who gets it, in some way. “Right.” It’s quiet for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts as they look out into the street below. They’re not very high up, but there’s not a whole lot of tall buildings around, so it feels like they are. Dan hears the camera shutter but this time he doesn’t look. Instead he allows himself a small smile, something warm fluttering in his chest. Another click, and then he hears Phil sigh.

“These are really good,” Phil says softly. “I mean... not like I’m bragging, just...” He meets Dan’s gaze with a sheepish smile. “You look really good.”

Dan’s not sure he can handle that. He ducks his head, avoiding even looking in Phil’s direction until he feels less embarrassed and charmed and pleased. “I’m sure they’re alright,” he says noncommittally.

Phil laughs at that. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or yourself, but either way, I’m not sure I appreciate it.”

He can’t help it, Dan snorts at hearing this. “Sorry. Self-deprecation and all.”

There’s a very serious expression on Phil’s face when he looks at Dan then. It nearly chills Dan to his bones, but he finds he can’t look away. “I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” He sounds perfectly serious.

Dan swallows. He wonders if he’s imagining the lack of space between them. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Phil studies him for a moment. He moves slowly, pulling the camera strap over his head and setting the camera carefully in the chair. Dan’s definitely not imagining it when Phil steps closer, making Dan turn as Phil crowds him back against the balcony. “All sorts of things,” Phil murmurs. Speaking any louder in the space between them would sound like yelling. “I see someone who’s sad.” Dan makes a soft noise of protest, but Phil shushes him gently. “But someone who’s doing what they can not to feel that way.”

They’re stood less than a foot apart now, and Dan studies the swirl of colors in Phil’s eyes. His breath is caught in his throat. He doesn’t know how Phil just knows these things, but somehow he’s managed to understand more about Dan than he’s understood about himself in years. More than that, Phil sees these things about Dan and doesn’t shy away from them. He looks at him like it’s okay to feel that way, like he maybe understands what it’s like. Dan loves it.

“What else?” He whispers, as if they’re sharing secrets.

Phil smiles. “I see those beautiful brown eyes.”

Dan blushes. “Shut up.”

“No,” Phil grins. He reaches forward, and Dan expects a soft touch and hopes for maybe more than that. He’s surprised when instead Phil pokes his side.

“Hey!” Dan yelps, squirming from his hand. “That’s rude.”

Phil giggles. “Sorry. I wanted to see that cute little pout.”

Dan’s face is likely blood red by now, but he tries to force his lips out of the pout he feels them in. “Alright, if you don’t stop flirting you might actually have to do something about it, you know.” He crosses his arms, quirking an eyebrow at Phil in challenge.

The challenge is apparently accepted, as Phil grins back, crossing his own arms. He’s an inch or two shorter than Dan, but with that stance, he appears taller. “Like what?”

And well, Dan wasn’t really expecting Phil to play along. He can only stare at him, blinking in confusion. “Um... well...”

It seems Phil expected this because he starts laughing as if it was a joke. Dan has no choice but to join in, pretending right along with him. “C’mon, you must be getting cold out here.” Phil turns to walk inside, gesturing for Dan to follow. Dan hadn’t really thought about it until now, but his legs are rather chilly.

After closing the door and walking into the lounge, he finds Phil stood there holding his jeans out to him. Dan tries not to let it bother him that this evening isn’t going in the direction he originally thought that it might go in. He shouldn’t be surprised about that. Phil is seemingly a very nice person, one who probably doesn’t hook up with emotionally unstable uni students he met at two am in a cafe. So really, Dan just needs to calm down with his expectations there.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking the jeans. He figures propriety is probably already out the window, so he goes ahead and pulls them on, trying not to think about the fact that Phil is watching him. “So, um...” He wants to ask if he’ll see Phil again, but he’s not sure how to.

Phil seems to understand anyway. He smiles and moves to the desk in the corner. Above it is a wall calendar, filled with lots of colorful sticky notes and scribbled handwriting. Even squinting, Dan can’t really make any of it out. Somehow, that, too, is endearing. Phil mumbles to himself as he scans the calendar, his finger moving along the dates as if he’s looking for something.

“I’m free next Saturday if you’re willing to do this again,” he says, turning around to glance at Dan.

A little startled by the suddenness of the request, it takes Dan a moment to nod. “Alright, uh, sure. What time?”

“Hm,” Phil hums to himself, considering it. He bends over to look through a notebook on the desk, and Dan is definitely not looking at his ass. Okay, maybe he takes a peek. Or two. Or maybe he just stares. “I have a list of ideas, give me a second,” he says, offering Dan a smile over his shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat and pretending he’s examining the furniture. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I really like your flat. It’s cozy,” he says. His voice sounds awkward, even to himself. He’s genuine in his compliment, though. The decor is a lot brighter than he’d go for, and there doesn’t seem to be any cohesive theme, but he appreciates the bursts of personality he sees in every item.

“Thanks,” Phil says, turning to face him with a grin. “It’s taken me a while to accumulate all this junk, but it’s mostly sentimental.”

Dan cracks a smile at that. “That’s sweet. I’m not very sentimental myself, actually.”

Phil’s smile cracks a little at that. He recovers well, and manages to laugh. “My mum says I’m a hoarder, but I actually think I got it from her.”

“Maybe don’t tell her that.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Phil grins genuinely. “So, I’ve got some… er… well, some other shots I want to get.” He bites his lips as if he’s embarrassed.

Dan can’t help it. His mind takes a sharp turn for the gutter. “What kind of shots?”

Phil raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck. Dan stares at the way the tendons in his arms flex. It’s unacceptably attractive. “Well… Please don’t think I’m creepy for this, I swear I was going to get someone else to do it, but if you’re willing… My series would look more cohesive with the same model in every shot.”

Dan rolls his eyes now. The beating around the bush thing isn’t cute anymore. “Spit it out, bub. What do you want me to do? Pose nude?”

“No!” Something panicked arises in Phil’s eyes, but it’s replaced by something like consideration, clouded with something akin to guilt. “Er… Well, not entirely.” He bites his lip at this, staring at Dan like he’s waiting for him to run.

Crossing his arms, Dan quirks a brow, waiting. “So?”

“Well, it’s like… The theme I’m trying to work with is intimacy, but like from different angles. We, uh… For the assignment we were told to pick a sort of abstract or misunderstood concept, and research what we can to come up with a photo series that shows the deeper understanding of it. And uh, I went with intimacy.” His face is pink, and his gaze darts around the room in a nervous way Dan hasn’t witnessed yet.

Dan considers what this means for himself for a moment. He knows what he considers intimacy to be, which is basically sex and the things that go with being intimate before and after that. He can’t pretend he isn’t interested in what Phil wants to do with this concept, and honestly, after today, he feels comfortable enough that maybe he wouldn’t mind a little nude shoot. That might change due to his ever changing self-consciousness but he’s not totally opposed to it right now.

Phil must misunderstand his silence to mean he’s considering saying no. That thought’s laughable to Dan, at this point. “If you’re not comfortable, or if it’s something else, that’s totally fine! I mean, if you just don’t want to waste your time, I can pay you? But if you’re uncomfortable then-”

“I’ll do it.”

Phil stops talking. He blinks. Then, “What?”

Dan shrugs, an almost giddy feeling seeping into his chest. He tucks his hands into his pockets. “I said I’ll do it. I mean I reckon if you were gonna murder me, you would’ve done it by now. And I’m not too fussed about posing nude, but…” He’s not sure if what he’s about to say is obvious or not, but… “I’m… homosexually inclined, if you will.”

There’s a heavy silence. Phil blinks at him, twice. Then, he promptly bursts into giggles. Dan’s not impressed by that.

“Sorry, I’m not- homosexually inclined? Is that what we’re calling it these days? God, I’m getting old.” Phil laughs again, clutching his belly and tossing his head back with the force of it.

Dan’s fight-or-flight response is hovering on the edge of a knife, waiting to see if he’s going to have to protect himself from this situation somehow. He’s never actually had anyone start laughing in his face when he told them he was gay, but he reckons maybe he did say it in an odd way. Still, it was almost unsettling to see the soft look on Phil’s face once his giggles have subsided.

“I am too, by the way. Homosexually inclined,” Phil repeats the phrasing and smirks. Dan immediately relaxes. “That’s the only way I’ll ever come out to anyone ever again, so thank you for that.”

Dan rolls his eyes but pantomimes tipping a hat. “Happy to be of service.” Now that their truths are out in the open, he’s more relaxed, but also just that much more uneasy. Before, Phil was just this fit guy taking photos of him that Dan could quietly pine after and assume about. Now… now he knows for sure. And that scares the hell out of him. “So, Saturday?” Dan asks, clearing his throat to clear some of the tension in the room.

Phil nods, a familiar excited glint reappearing in his eyes. “Yeah, say… five-ish? The lighting is better when the sun’s going down.”

“Sure.” Dan takes this as his invitation to leave and heads back to the front door. Phil follows after him and stands by while Dan tugs his shoes back on. “Anything particular you’d like me to wear?” He doesn’t mean to flirt, but he can’t help but put on a certain tone of voice. He’s only human.

If Phil’s bothered by the obvious flirtation, he has a funny way of showing it. Smirking, he crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside him, his eyes raking over Dan’s body in a way that nearly makes him shiver. “If you’ve got a light colored sweater or something, that would work.” He tilts his head, considering for a moment. “And the Calvins are a nice touch, as well.”

Dan can’t help but smirk back, as if he knows what they’re doing here. He doesn’t, not really. “Why, reckon I’m gonna be back down to my pants for you?”

Phil stares him straight in the eyes as he nods. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

This does make Dan shiver. He can’t help it. His skin is suddenly feeling a little tacky, his clothes clinging a little too closely to his skin. “Right,” he mumbles, clearing his throat after. “See you Saturday?”

The grin on Phil’s face takes any of the previous heat away, but it leaves Dan warm in an entirely different way. “Saturday. I’ll see you then, Dan. Be safe.”

Dan offers a little wave as he steps out the door. He forces himself to take a deep breath before getting any further, processing what he’d just agreed to. Spending an evening with a very attractive, also gay man, taking perhaps racy photos.

God, Dan was so fucked.

~~~

Dan has counted down the days until Saturday, unashamedly. There’s no one but himself to shame him for his weird crush, and for now, he’s not going to beat himself up about it. That’s probably most definitely subject to change, he realizes once he’s standing at Phil’s door on Saturday evening, wearing black ripped jeans and a light tannish Yeezy sweater he’d spent way too much money on. He’s a little early, since they’d agreed on five, but Dan doesn’t actually think Phil will be all that bothered about it, honestly. At least, he sincerely hopes he isn’t.

Dan: im outside let me in

Phil: you should’ve sent the meme

Dan: ?

Dan hears the door click the same time his phone buzzes in his hand. He opens the door with one hand while his other clicks on the meme. He snorts when he sees it, having forgotten all about the Eric Andre meme, but this was certainly an appropriate moment to use it. Since he’s literally in the same building as Phil, Dan doesn’t bother typing out a response, pocketing his phone and making his way up to Phil’s flat.

Phil���s quick to open the door after Dan’s knocked, and Dan smiles automatically upon seeing his face. He’s not wearing glasses this time, and his hair is in an almost perfect quiff. Dan very much wants to touch it, but he knows that’s definitely not appropriate. Phil looks incredibly cozy right now, wearing a grey sweater and black skinny jeans.

“Hi,” Phil says, his voice sweet.

Dan can’t help the stupid grin on his face, stretching at his cheeks and probably caving his dimple. “Hi, yourself.”

He doesn’t have a chance to ask to come inside, as Phil’s suddenly shifting closer, his hand coming up to Dan’s face. Dan sucks in a sharp breath, heart beating out of rhythm. Whatever he’s expecting to happen isn’t Phil’s intention, apparently, as Dan’s surprised when he feels Phil’s finger sink into his dimple. “Hello to this part of you, specifically.”

It takes him a moment to process the disappointment he feels that Phil didn’t do something else, but then he’s just thrilled that Phil is touching his face so casually. Then, he hears what he said. Laughing, Dan swats his hand away. “Oh, fuck off.”

Phil grins at him. “What? It’s cute. Hello, there… Derek!”

Dan blinks. “Derek?”

Phil’s finger comes back up to gently dip into the concave space on Dan’s face. “Derek the dimple.”

“You’re really odd,” Dan muses. Phil’s face twists at this, and Dan smiles before stepping through the door beside him. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, walking over to where Phil keeps his shoes and toeing his trainers off. He tugs his coat off as well, looking around for somewhere to put it that doesn’t clutter some of Phil’s space.

“I’ll get it,” Phil says, coming to the rescue. He grabs the coat from Dan and leads the way into the lounge, the sound of the front door shutting behind them echoing into the room. “Have you eaten?” Phil asks, his back turned to Dan as he goes to hang Dan’s coat genty over a chair.

“No, I figured I’d eat later when I leave.” Dan goes to sit on the sofa, glancing around the room casually to see if anything’s changed since he was here last week.

Phil nods, but chews his bottom lip hesitantly. “Do you like pizza?”

Dan quirks a brow at this and tries not to smirk. “Are you trying to buy me dinner, Phil Lester?”

To his credit, Phil doesn’t seem very embarrassed by this. His eyes dart away but ultimately come back to Dan’s face, searching. “I guess so. If you’ll let me.”

Clearing his throat to hide the way he’s actually very pleased by this, Dan nods, following it with a noncommittal shrug. “Well, if you insist.”

Phil laughs, moving to his desk and grabbing his laptop. He returns to the sofa, dropping beside Dan and opening his laptop. “Domino’s okay?”

Dan nods and shifts on the sofa, tucking his feet up and leaning over to watch Phil order their food. “Have you tried the Sizzler?”

He realizes how close they are now when Phil turns his head and their eyes meet, mere inches apart. Phil has a lovely, surprised smile on his face. “The Sizzler is literally my favorite.”

This draws a pleased smile on Dan’s lips. “Yeah? You’ve got good taste, then.”

Phil nods. “It’s got just enough toppings to mask the flavor of the cheese, it’s great.”

Dan blinks. “Sorry, why would you actually want to mask the cheese? The cheese is the best part!”

Phil’s nose crinkles adorably as he turns back to the screen, clicking around on the order page. “I’m lactose intolerant, cheese just doesn’t really suit me.”

“Huh,” Dan hums. “I guess it’s good that mozzarella cheese basically just tastes of air, then.”

A dainty white hand comes up to rest over Phil’s chest as he mock-swoons. “You understand me,” he sighs.

Dan grins. He’s got the inexplicable urge to rest his head on Phil’s shoulder, but he refrains. Phil finishes up their order and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of them before leaning back. His head rolls to the side and he blinks up at Dan adorably. Dan takes this moment to reach forward and poke Phil’s cheek, much like he did earlier to Dan’s dimple.

“So, pizza then photoshoot?” Dan inquires, the soft silence overwhelming him.

Phil nods. Then shrugs, which is a very mixed-signal sort of gesture, Dan thinks. “Well, probably pizza and photoshoot, really.”

“What?”

Without answering, Phil stands, going over to his desk and grabbing a notebook. He glances around until he finds a pen, then rejoins Dan on the sofa. “Right, so, the photo series has four parts to it, representing the four types of intimacy. So I figured today we could work on the first part.”

Dan nods, as if he completely understands this. He doesn’t. “Alright. So what’s the first part?”

Phil flips some pages in the notebook until he reaches one with “Experiential” at the top. Dan glances at this word, then back to Phil, then back to the page. Phil must notice his confusion, as he laughs under his breath before handing the notebook over. “I tried to write a short explanation, but basically it’s like intimacy in doing mundane activities. Like… I don’t know, playing video games together, or doing an art project, or something.”

“Right…” Dan nods slowly. “So, are we going to do an art project together?” He’s half-kidding. Half, because he’s not very artistic but he actually likes the idea of doing something creative and fun with Phil, who seems to be the human embodiment of those ideas.

“No, although that probably would’ve been a good idea,” Phil says, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I actually thought we could play some video games or play a board game or something?”

Dan nods. “Sure, I’m always down to play video games. I should warn you though, I didn’t have any friends until uni, so I’ve had lots of time to get really good at pretty much every video game.”

There’s something fleetingly sad in Phil’s gaze, but he recovers with a laugh that warms Dan’s heart and has him smiling. “We’ll see about that.”

~~~

“Fucking fuck fuck!” Dan screams, his thumb aching from how tightly he’s holding the button to steer. “Get out of my ass!” he screeches at Phil.

Phil cackles from beside him, his kart closing in on Dan’s. “Stop shouting that! I have neighbors, you idiot!”

Dan makes a frustrated grunting noise when Phil somehow manages to pass him and cross the finish line first, a string of curses leaving his mouth as Phil squeals with joy beside him. Ever the petulant child, Dan throws the switch joy-con towards Phil, who yelps. Dan pitches to the side, letting out a frustrated noise against the sofa cushion. “You’re the worst,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning,” Phil taunts smugly.

Sitting up with a huff, Dan sends Phil a glare, only to startle when the camera flashes. He wants to be annoyed, but he can’t, not when he agreed to this impromptu shoot. And Phil’s been doing this for the past two hours since they finished their pizza and started playing Mario Kart, so if Dan was going to have a problem with it, he probably should have said so before now. He doesn’t actually, really. It’s always a little surprising, and it usually catches him off-guard since he’s rarely expecting it when it happens, but seeing Phil smile down at the camera every time he takes a photo makes it worth it.

“Rematch?” Phil asks, prodding Dan’s thigh with his joy-con, setting the camera down on the coffee table where it’s been residing for the majority of the evening. There’d been a couple times when Phil had gone to the kitchen under the pretense of getting something, only to surprise Dan by taking photos of him from behind the sofa. Dan doubts that those are any good, considering there’s probably nothing in shot but his unruly hair and the tv, but this is Phil’s project, so who is he to judge?

Dan rolls over so he’s on his back and drops his legs onto Phil’s lap, smiling when Phil begins rubbing his calves over his jeans. Whatever concept of personal space that existed hours ago is completely gone now, as both of them have taken to casual touches at almost any opportunity. Dan’s drowning in the feeling of this casual, friendly intimacy, and he idly wonders if that might be one of the themes for what Phil’s working on. “Depends, what time is it?”

Phil leans over to wake his phone up. “It’s a few minutes till eight,” he replies. He’s got an odd look on his face as he looks away from Dan before speaking again. “Why, got a hot date?”

This is one of those incredibly laughable things that Phil has said, and Dan treats it accordingly, dropping his head back to let out a cackle. “Bub, tonight you were the hot date.” He’s pleased by the surprised smile on Phil’s face. Dan’s cheeky for a moment and lifts his leg up to rub his foot against Phil’s thigh. “But no, I’ve just got revising to do. Exams coming up soon and the like.”

Phil doesn’t look particularly pleased by this, but nods in understanding. “Okay. Do you need to go home now?” His voice sounds just on the edge of disappointed, and Dan almost hates the way that makes him feel like he’s flying.

“I mean… I probably should. Why? Got other plans for me?” He smirks as he says it, obviously flirting.

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes this time. He shrugs, looking down at where his hands rest on Dan’s legs. “No, not really. I just like having you around.”

The naked honesty startles Dan into silence. He knows very few people who can tolerate him, let alone who actually enjoy his company, so this coming from Phil… Well, it’s a lot for Dan’s emotionally damaged brain to take in. After taking a moment to collect himself, he knocks his knee against Phil’s chest to prompt eye contact. Phil’s eyes are pools of blue and flecks of gold and Dan just knows he’s got a stupidly soft smile on his face as he speaks.

“I like being around you too, spork.”

Phil grins at this. He leans closer, just enough to sink his finger into Dan’s dimple. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

Dan nods, making no move to get off the sofa. “When do you want to work on the rest of the photos?”

There’s a shadow of something hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s gone so quickly Dan figures he imagined it. “You know, I’d like to hang out sometimes… Like, we don’t have to just work on that everytime we see each other, yeah?” He sounds nervous.

“Right,” Dan says slowly. It’s not that he hadn’t considered this, but he hadn’t gone so far as to assume Phil would actually want to do that. “Well, when’s the project due?”

“It’s not due until the end of December, so yeah… we’ve got time to work on that. I just…” Phil clears his throat as he looks away. He’s absentmindedly tugging on a thread on Dan’s jeans, and Dan wonders if he’s going to manage to pull it off completely. “We’re friends, yeah?”

An awkward laugh escapes Dan at that. He’s positive he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt on Phil’s face this time, but he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Yeah, Phil, of course we are. And sure, we can hangout whenever you want. In fact, what about tomorrow? I need to get some homework done, but we can meet up at the cafe for lunch?”

Phil smiles at this, a proper one with his tongue poking through his teeth. Dan melts at the sight. “Sure, okay, yeah. I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” Dan says, his voice mostly teasing. He leaves his words hanging in the air between them, open to whatever interpretation that Phil might want to give them.

“A date,” Phil echoes, nodding and looking down at where his hand is resting on Dan’s leg. “I guess I’ll let you get home, then.”

Even though Dan knows he needs to go, he doesn’t like the idea of actually doing it. Still, he can’t overstay his welcome, even if Phil does enjoy having him around. Besides, he needs to get home and take his meds before he goes to bed anyway. He drags his legs off Phil’s lap and stands, stretching his arms up above his head to give them some relief. They’d been lounging on the sofa for hours now, and he desperately needed to get his blood circulating again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Dan says on a yawn, dropping his hand to ruffle Phil’s hair. If Phil’s bothered by the gesture, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah.” He stands and follows Dan to the door, watching him as he gets ready to leave. “Oh, here,” Phil says suddenly, spinning around and stepping back into the lounge, returning with Dan’s coat in his hand. He holds it out and gestures for Dan to turn around. Dan does so, but he rolls his eyes as if he’s not secretly pleased by the gesture.

When Dan turns around, there’s a soft, fond look on Phil’s face. Dan wants to kiss him. He wants to so, so badly, but there’s still that voice in his head, reminding him that Phil isn’t interested in him in that way. So instead, he lifts his hand in a little two-fingered salute, cringing at himself as soon as he does it. “See you tomorrow, then, Philly.”

“Goodnight, Dan. Be safe going home.” The repeated sentiment stirs something warm in Dan’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Dan echoes softly as the door closes behind him.

~~~

Dan sits in the cafe, his laptop open on the table in front of him. He’s a few paragraphs into an essay about a topic he doesn’t care about and hardly remembers, his cursor blinking at him condescendingly. If the other two or three customers weren’t present, he’d thump his head on the table in anger, barista be damned. It’s the same barista that served him and Phil that night a couple weeks ago, Dan realizes, so they probably wouldn’t be surprised if Dan just started acting off his rocker.

He’s mid-thought about all the situations this barista has probably had to see, wondering to himself if she’s ever had to handle a mental breakdown, which then steers him onto the thought path of wondering if that’s what’s actually happening to him right now or if he’s overreacting. His train of thought is completely thrown off the track when he hears a voice as someone settles on the seat in front of him.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale,” Phil says, his face morphed into one of concern. He pushes a hand through his slightly disheveled quiff, helping it a little bit but mostly just giving it a more purposefully tousled look.

Dan blinks at him. “What would you do if I said I was having a mental breakdown?” he blurts unthinkingly.

Phil raises an eyebrow at him, looking surprised but not as confused as Dan expected him to. He leans forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his weight against them. It’s a good look, Dan thinks to himself idly. He’s wearing a pink and purple hoodie, and his black-framed glasses. He looks like a snack, if Dan’s completely honest. “Are you?” He asks, breaking Dan out of his cycle of inappropriate thoughts.

Sighing, Dan leans over and rests his head against the table, staring blearily up at Phil. “No? I mean… I don’t know, honestly. I don’t guess so.” He punctuates it with a shrug, which just results in him bumping his shoulder into the table. It stings.

Phil smiles down at him like he’s not bothered at all by Dan’s odd mood. It’s nice. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, sweet and considerate as ever.

Dan shrugs again. His shoulder aches now. He sits up with an exasperated groan. “I just feel like I’m wasting what’s left of my stupid life sat here working on a paper I don’t give two fucks about, but I can’t drop out because my parents would kill me. Not that I care what they think, but they’re helping me pay for a flat and stuff, so I can’t exactly do what I want, can I? I just… I want a different life. This one sucks.” He hadn’t realized how worked up he was until he’s finished, but now that he’s done with his rant, he’s left panting and maybe there’s a wetness in his voice that wasn’t there before. He clenches his eyes shut tightly. He’s not going to cry in front of his new friend, in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop. He isn’t.

The feeling of a hand brushing against his own has his eyes snapping open, staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil offers him a sympathetic smile. Dan hates pity, but he doesn’t feel like this is Phil’s intention, somehow. “Do you want to do something to take your mind off of all that?” Phil asks him sweetly.

Dan’s inclined to say yes. He’d love a break, even if it’s not for long, but he knows he needs to finish this godforsaken essay if he has a chance in hell of passing this class. “I can’t. I need to finish this essay.” His voice is bitter.

“Okay. Do you want me to leave so you can focus?” Phil doesn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but Dan appreciates the gesture.

“No, I can work with you here. If you don’t, you know, mind that I’m not going to be very entertaining.”

Phil laughs, his tongue poking out in Dan’s favorite smile. “I think I can entertain myself. I’ve got some things I can work on while you’re doing that. I’m a little behind some of my projects for work, so this would probably be a good time to finish them.”

Dan really needs to focus on his assignment, but the mention of Phil’s job piques his interest. He hadn’t really mentioned that before, although Dan had already deduced that he probably had some kind of job, considering he’s a part-time student living in a flat by himself. Unable to quell his curiosity, Dan props his head in his hand, watching Phil pull out a laptop and a notebook from his backpack. “What kind of projects?” He asks.

“Some videos to edit. Mostly ads and things like that. I think I’ve got a motivational video and a music video, too.” Phil makes a grimace at that, but Dan’s only about a thousand times more curious now.

Feigning nonchalance, Dan nods and glances at his own laptop. He’s got a little over a thousand words and he’s got to have twenty-five hundred to meet the assignment requirements. But, it’s not due for another week, so surely he can spare a few moments of watching Phil work, right?

Whether he can or not, he decides he’s going to.

“Can I watch you edit?” he asks, his voice unintentionally small.

Phil looks surprised when he glances up, but he’s quick to nod. “Yeah, of course. Um…” He points vaguely to the space on Dan’s side of the booth. “Mind if I move over there?”

Dan grins and moves his own backpack out of the way, clearing a spot for Phil to put his own things. “Be my guest,” he says, mocking a terrible French accent.

After moving his things over, Phil seems to remember that they were originally only meeting to have lunch, and yet neither of them have any food. “Do you want me to go grab us something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Dan reaches into his pocket for his wallet, but Phil’s hand on his wrist stops him.

“I’ll pay, I asked you out, remember?” Phil’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he stands from the table. “What do you want?”

Dan is very nearly blushing at how chivalrous Phil is being, but he clears his throat in an effort to control himself. “A strawberry lemonade, please.”

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, what else? What do you want to eat?”

It’s probably just the usual bout of nerves, but the idea of food is not very appealing to Dan in this moment. His stomach turns at the idea of eating something, and he’s pretty sure that it’s written all over his face. “I’m actually not very hungry right now,” he says awkwardly.

There’s a flash of confusion on Phil’s face, but he manages a slow nod. “Okay. So just the strawberry lemonade?”

Dan nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Phil says, flashing a smile. “Be right back, then.”

Dan tries not to watch Phil as he makes his way to the counter to order, but his attempt is probably mediocre at best. His eyes stray from him for a few seconds at a time, but generally his gaze is casually sweeping over Phil’s body, appreciating the way Phil’s jeans fit around his ass. As soon as that thought catches up with him, he looks away, embarrassed. He’s not about to sit here ogling his friend while they're out for lunch, even if they have held up a rather flirtatious banter since meeting.

“Here you go,” Phil says a few moments later, setting a fairly large pink drink in front of Dan. He’s got something pink as well, but it’s a deeper, more magenta shade than Dan’s. “I also got you a pistachio muffin, for later, if you decide you’re hungry.” Phil places a paper bag down, and Dan stares at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thank you,” Dan stutters out.

Phil shrugs, moving to sit down back beside Dan. He situates his drink on the right side of his laptop before reaching for the paper bag. He takes out a bagel, sitting it on a napkin and closing the bag back up, scooting it towards Dan. He glances at him, appearing a little startled to find Dan already staring back at him. Before Dan can apologize for being creepy, Phil smiles and points to the bag. “Take it home, if you don’t want it now. You’ll be hungry eventually.”

Dan can’t say no to that, obviously, so he just nods mutely. “Alright, sure.”

Looking pleased with himself, Phil opens up his laptop and clicks around until he’s got a video editing program loading up, switching back to his email to click on the file attached. “So, usually clients just email me and after we agree on rates and such, I put the things I’m sent in folders that are in order of due date. I’m a little behind, so I haven’t organized these yet, but I don’t have that many to work on, so it’s not that big of a deal,” Phil explains as he opens his files and renames the thing he’s downloading.

Nodding along, Dan reaches blindly for his drink, his nose wrinkling when he takes a sip. Glancing down, he realizes he’d picked up Phil’s by mistake. “Mate, what is this?” he asks teasingly, gesturing to the cup when Phil looks at him in confusion.

“It’s dragon fruit lemonade,” Phil says defensively.

“It’s terrible,” Dan decides, setting it down and reaching for his own instead.

“It is not! It’s really tasty,” Phil argues, snatching his drink and taking a long, exaggerated sip as if to prove his point.

Dan scrunches his nose, definitely not agreeing with that assessment. “Try mine,” he offers, holding his cup out for Phil to take a sip from.

Phil rolls his eyes but leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw and taking a little sip. Dan gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes again before sucking a little more into his mouth. Swallowing and leaning back, Phil narrows his eyes, looking to be seriously contemplating the taste. “Well, it’s not terrible, but mine’s just more exotic and fancy.”

“You should stick to editing and photography, bub. You’d make a terrible lemonade critic,” Dan says solemnly.

There’s an adorable pout on Phil’s lips as he jokingly digs his elbow into Dan’s side. “Rude,” he mumbles, focusing on his laptop again.

Dan grins, and leans closer, tentatively dropping his chin onto Phil’s shoulder to watch him work. Phil’s eyes dart to meet his, and Dan offers him a saccharine-sweet smile. Phil makes a big show out of rolling his eyes at this, but ultimately he focuses on his work, quietly talking Dan through the process as he edits clips and adds sound when appropriate.

Eventually, Dan goes back to working on his essay, but they stay close, talking when there’s a lull in creativity or when Dan just cannot take a moment more of affidavits and case files. Phil sometimes prods him and asks him to watch a section of the video he’s working on, asking if the transitions are smooth to an untrained eye, and Dan likes helping when he can. It’s nice, he realizes, working beside someone even when they’re both working on their own separate projects. It’s copacetic.

“I’m so tired of this,” Dan groans, thumping his head back against the booth. It makes a cracking sound and he winces, a sharp pain spreading across his skull. “Ow,” he whines.

Phil glances at him, concerned. “You alright?”

Dan nods, rubbing the back of his head. He gets a cheeky idea and pouts at Phil. “Kiss it better?” he simpers.

Phil doesn’t even blink. He rolls his eyes but nods, gesturing for Dan to get closer. “Turn your head, you little troll.”

Surprised that Phil’s actually catering to this whim, it takes Dan a moment to do as he’s told. He does, though, turn his head to look away, his hand still covering the spot he’d injured. He feels Phil take his hand and move it out of the way, and then he feels a gentle kiss pressed to the tender spot. His veins flood with warmth, so suddenly it causes a shiver down his spine. There’s no way Phil doesn’t notice it.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it. “Does it hurt badly?” Phil asks sweetly, his dainty fingers coming up to gently skim Dan’s scalp.

“No,” Dan says faintly. “Just tender.”

Phil hums. “Poor thing,” he mocks. He’s still stroking Dan’s hair, but Dan turns his head anyway, pouting when he sees the smirk on Phil’s face.

“I’m injured, and here you are, taking the piss.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time you’ll tone down the theatrics,” Phil suggests.

Dan huffs. “I was a theatre kid, it’s in my blood.”

Whatever he said seems to strike Phil as interesting, as he tilts his head and considers Dan, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why don’t you do theatre anymore?” Phil asks, completely out of left field.

Dan lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t know. I just… Don’t?”

Phil nods. He shrugs, then, turning back to his laptop. “I think you should do some auditions. You’ve got an actual talent for it, I think you’d do really well.”

This throws Dan for a loop. He wasn’t expecting Phil to say anything like that, not at all. He knew he was usually dramatic, but it was mainly in a funny kind of way, he never thought about getting seriously involved with theatre now that he was an adult. It’s… not a bad idea, though. He’s not entirely opposed, at least.

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally. He actually really likes the idea of getting involved in it, now that it’s been presented to him as an option. He doesn’t plan on telling Phil that yet, though, no matter how much he genuinely likes him. “Can you read over this paragraph and tell me what you think?”

~~~

The days and weeks pass by in a flurry after that day in the cafe. Dan wasn’t aware how much free time he really had until he started spending it with Phil. There was hardly a single day that passed when he didn’t spend time with Phil, either at Phil’s flat, the cafe, or even the library, which is where they found themselves now. Dan had a research project due in two days, and in true Dan fashion, he’d procrastinated it until the last possible moment. Phil had wanted to work on his photo series some more today, and when Dan said he had to finish this project, Phil said that it was perfect for what he needed.

So there they were, sat across from each other in the library, Dan hard at work on his stupid research project while Phil scribbled in a notebook and occasionally took photos of Dan. Sometimes Phil would stand up without saying a word, only to walk around and take shots from different angles. Dan was genuinely trying to submerge himself in his project, so most of the time he wasn’t even aware of what Phil was doing, too caught up in his own head to pay too much attention.

If Phil had any complaints about Dan’s focus being on his own work, he didn’t say. Sometimes he would say Dan’s name, snapping a photo as soon as Dan looked up at him, but mostly he just stayed quiet, working on his own things while Dan did the same. They’d done this a lot, when Dan or Phil had work they needed to get done but they wanted to spend time together. It was nice, working in a shared space on their own things, although sometimes if they were at Phil’s flat they’d get distracted by food or anime or video games. Still, even that was nice, as Phil was lovely to be around regardless of what they were doing.

They’d been at the library for probably close to three hours now, and Dan was reaching his limit. He had actually gotten a lot done, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading. It didn’t help that he was basically starving, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else, he closes his laptop and folds his arms over it, resting his head on his forearms and closing his eyes. He hears a shift in front of him and a few moments later he feels a body in the seat next to his, a hand coming to stroke his back in soft sweeps.

“You okay?” Phil’s soft voice whispers.

Dan nods, not opening his eyes. “Just tired. Can we be done for today?”

Phil laughs quietly. “Yeah, bub, we can be done. Do you want to come back to mine?”

Wordlessly, Dan nods again. Phil hums a confirming noise before going to gather up his things. It takes Dan a moment, but eventually he sits up and does the same, shoving his laptop in his bag along with one of his law textbooks. Phil takes one of the books he’d been using and disappears to put it back for him, and just the thought of the gesture warms Dan up from the inside.

It’d been a little over a month since they met and nothing had happened between them yet. Not that he didn’t love just being Phil’s best friend; he did, so much. But… He wouldn’t keep lying to himself, he was interested in Phil romantically. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between friendship and more, though, not when he had no solid proof that Phil felt the same. Other than some assumptions that Phil liked him due to some of his behaviors, Dan had nothing to go on. And, he reasoned, someone can be nice to you without wanting to date you, and he can’t fault Phil for being a good person, even if it threw his emotions for a loop every time.

“Ready to go?” Phil asks, suddenly standing beside the table, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Dan nods, dragging himself out of his melancholy thoughts in order to stand and grab his own backpack. He follows Phil outside, sending the librarian a polite smile as they pass her. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going, trusting Phil to lead them safely, so when his body collides into something solid, a squeak falls out of his mouth without his permission.

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan, a smile on his face. “Sorry,” he apologizes for his abrupt stop that caused Dan to run into him. He gestures outside. “It’s pouring,” he informs him.

Fuck. Dan could honestly cry right now, in a totally not dramatic way. He’s just had a mentally draining day, and to see that on top of that it’s pouring down rain, well, it’s not his favorite thing ever, that’s for sure. He’s highly aware of the fact that his hair is tediously straightened and pushed up into a sort-of fluffy quiff that could never look anywhere near as good as Phil’s does. But he knows that this rain will very much ruin that illusion, and he’s hyper aware of the fact that Phil has yet to see his curly hair.

So, yeah, he could cry.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks, that same soft voice he always uses when he thinks Dan’s upset about something. “It probably won’t rain for long, we can wait it out, if you want,” he offers.

Dan’s inclined to say yes just so Phil doesn’t see his natural hair, but his growling stomach and borderline exhaustion demands that he find a soft sofa, preferably Phil’s, as soon as possible. “No, it’s fine,” Dan mumbles. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to yours and order some food, right?”

Phil is definitely aware that Dan is not feeling right, but he graciously doesn’t call him out on it now. Dan knows that will not last, but he’s grateful for it nevertheless. “Of course. Come on, watch your step, it’s probably slippery.” Phil reaches for Dan’s hand probably without thinking, and Dan lets him take it. Phil’s hand is cool to the touch, despite the fact that it wasn’t all that cold inside the library, and Dan absently remembers something he’d said about a week ago when they were watching Bake Off at Phil’s flat.

“Dan, c’mere!” Phil whined, reaching for Dan’s shirt and tugging him into a sort-of-but-not-quite cuddle on the sofa. Dan went easily, allowing Phil to pull him in, completely unbothered. If anything, he was thrilled. Phil was a little tipsy, but Dan was more than happy to oblige this whim, and he’d make sure Phil’s inebriation didn’t lead to anything they wouldn’t allow themselves to do sober. “You’re so warm,” Phil sighed, tucking his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. “Like a little space heater.”

The memory of that moment flashes back into Dan’s mind now, and he can’t help but squeeze Phil’s hand, trying to transfer some of his warmth to the other man’s chilled fingers. Phil glances back at Dan, but doesn’t pull his hand away. He squeezes back and turns to watch where they’re going, leading the way sure-footedly. Dan’s happy to let him.

~~~

The rain is relentless the whole way back to Phil’s flat, and both of them are shivering by the time they get inside. Phil’s all mumbled apologies as he heads to his bedroom, going to retrieve some dry clothes for them to change into. Dan waves him off as he goes, tugging his sopping shoes off and depositing them next to the door. He peels off his hoodie, leaving his t-shirt practically plastered to his chest. It’s a bad day for a white t-shirt, he realizes, seeing the way it’s practically transparent with water.

“I got you a hoodie and some pants. Do you want-” Phil stops, and Dan looks up at him, holding his dripping hoodie out sheepishly.

“Sorry, I don’t know where you want me to put this,” Dan apologizes, gesturing with the wet fabric.

Phil is very obviously checking him out right now, but Dan is very much pretending not to be affected by it in the least. “Uh… I���ll throw it in the wash for you,” he answers, his voice a little strained. He shakes his head, perhaps to clear it, then reaches out to hand Dan the little bundle of clothes in his hand. “I left a couple pairs of sweatpants out on the bed, you can just pick whatever you want to wear. I know you’re picky about your matching outfits or whatever,” Phil sounds a little bit more himself, punctuating his words with a teasing roll of his eyes.

Dan sticks his tongue out childishly, trading his hoodie for the dry clothes. “If I don’t care about my look, I’ll end up with fashion catastrophes like this!” He complains, gesturing wildly to Phil’s bright yellow emoji bottoms, which he’s paired with an old Friends t-shirt.

Huffing, Phil pushes him gently into the direction of his bedroom. “Go get changed, you absolute menace. I’ll order chinese.”

“Ooh, get me some egg rolls,” Dan calls back. He hears an exasperated sigh, but he grins, knowing Phil will order him all the egg rolls he wants. He loves that about him, among other things. He finds several pairs of sweatpants on the bed, and after a moment of consideration he chooses a pair of plain grey ones. Not that it matters, he reasons with himself, even as he double checks that the grey doesn’t clash with the offensive highlighter green of the hoodie he’s been given.

After changing into Phil’s clothes, Dan takes his wet clothes down the hall and deposits them in Phil’s washer. He hasn’t started it running yet, so Dan goes ahead and does it himself, humming quietly as he tosses a tide pod in and sets the water temperature. When he’s finished, he turns around, nearly having a heart attack when he sees Phil standing there, watching him with a small smile.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, you made me jump!” Dan nearly gasps, his hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “Why’re you creeping?” he asks, his voice bordering on whiny as he steps past him and goes to the lounge.

Phil giggles, like properly giggles, at that. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t hear me over your concert.”

Dan sends him a glare. “Don’t mock me, Lester.”

“I would never,” Phil promises, batting his eyelashes playfully. Dan doesn’t believe it for a second, but he rolls his eyes and drops onto the sofa, choosing to ignore him. “Your hair’s all wet,” he observes.

The reminder has Dan biting his lip and bringing his hands up to flatten it as much as he can. “I know,” he says sadly.

“Want me to get you a towel?” Phil offers.

When Dan shrugs, Phil takes this as permission and hauls himself off the sofa and disappears down the hall to the bathroom. Left alone, Dan takes a moment to look down at the hoodie he’s wearing now. It’s bright, bright green, a shade he normally wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, and it’s got the York University emblem on it. Dan vaguely remembers Phil saying he’d gone there, but it had been awhile since they’d talked about it, and Dan honestly didn’t have much reason to remember it. But, being wrapped in something so personal to Phil, who seemingly loved his university days, has Dan feeling warm and fuzzy and full of something that’s just a bit too close to something.

“Here,” Phil’s voice comes from beside him, and Dan looks up to see him holding a towel out for Dan as he sits down. The weight of the realization Dan’s just had, or what feels like a realization, leaves him immobile, staring dumbly at the towel like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Want me to do it?” Phil offers, his voice dripping in sugar sweetness.

All Dan can do is nod numbly, but that’s all the permission Phil needs. He shifts to sit up on his knees, giving him a height advantage that normally Dan has between the two of them. He’s gentle as he rubs the towel over Dan’s hair, and Dan’s eyes are glued onto every shift in Phil’s expression. Phil seems to notice, his eyes dropping to study Dan’s face with a tender gaze. Carefully, slow enough that Dan could stop him if he wanted to, Phil shifts, moving one of his legs to the other side of Dan’s, properly straddling his lap when he settles.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. The word sends shivers through Dan’s whole body. He’s warm all over, his chest a furnace of heat where his heart is frantically pumping to the whisper of his name leaving Phil’s lips. “Is this okay?”

Dan can’t breathe, he definitely can’t speak, so all he manages is a weak nod. Phil’s eyes search Dan’s, and there’s something cautious, unsure in his gaze. Dan hopes, he fucking prays that the same look isn’t mirrored in his own gaze, because god, he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. His hands, shaky as they are, come to rest gently at Phil’s hips. The touch startles Phil into shifting on his lap and Dan can’t help but drop his forehead to Phil’s shoulder with a soft groan.

“Sorry,” Phil laughs. His hand comes up to card through Dan’s curling hair, apparently dropping the pretense of drying it. “Your hair’s curly,” he notices, sounding surprised. This is not where Dan thought this was going at all. “I didn’t know your hair was curly.” He almost sounds offended.

Choking out a laugh at the ridiculous turn in conversation, Dan rolls his head to the side and stares incredulously up at Phil. “I know. That was intentional, believe me.”

Phil frowns at him. “It’s cute,” he says, his tone defensive.

Dan snorts. “For a hobbit, maybe.” He closes his eyes, relaxed in the way Phil pets his head gently.

“A very cute hobbit,” Phil insists. Dan feels his lips drag across his temple and he shivers again.

Pulling away, Dan looks up into Phil’s face and smiles at the adorable pout on his lips. And looking at that, Dan really doesn’t know that a stronger man could resist it. He leans in, but he remembers something important at the last second. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips a breath away from Phil’s.

There’s an audible gulp, and Dan readies himself for rejection. Phil’s lips part, and he knows, already, that it’s going to be a no, he could never be lucky to meet a guy who is both attractive and sweet and also gay and-

Two things happen at once.

Phil, for all his hesitation, breathes out a quiet, but certain, “yes.”

At the exact moment, there’s a jarring buzz, signalling the takeaway has arrived.

Dan has quite literally never been so full of disappointment.

They sit, frozen in the moment for just that- a moment. And then Phil’s sending him an apologetic smile, shifting to rise from Dan’s lap. Dan’s foolish hands latch onto his shirt, and Phil gently tugs them loose, a fleeting expression of sadness on his features. He hesitates, but then gestures to the door, backing away from the sofa. Dan’s certain his devastation is palpable.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dan can only watch him go. Whatever invisible wall was holding the waves of disappointment from crashing against the shore of Dan’s heart comes crumbling down the moment Phil disappears from view and Dan allows himself a moment to hurt for this missed opportunity. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he allows it to wash over him. It was in the moment, he’s certain. That was his specific moment, maybe the only moment he’ll get to act on his feelings. Fuck. Fuck it all, if that’s how this dissipates between them. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair and-

“Dan.” Phil’s voice is firm, assured. Dan barely has the energy to look at him, but when he does something passes over Phil’s face, a clear understanding of what Dan’s feeling in this moment. He doesn’t give Dan a chance to respond, setting the takeaway bag on the coffee table and immediately resuming his position on Dan’s lap.

Confused but not opposed, Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, clutching the t-shirt in his fingers. Phil smiles down at him. It’s a sweet, affectionate thing. His hand comes up to rest on Dan’s cheek, his thumb brushing down and dipping into the dimple Phil’s got such an affinity for. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, repeating Dan’s own words.

Swallowing hard, Dan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, please.”

That’s all the permission Phil needs to lean in, framing Dan’s lips with his own. Dan’s hand comes up and rests on Phil’s wrist, his other still scrabbling for purchase against Phil’s side. He leans into the feeling of Phil’s lips on his, a soft give and take as they part and come back together several times, really just working out what the other likes. Phil’s not taking it further than the soft almost-open-mouth kisses that they’re sharing now, and Dan’s definitely okay with that.

After what probably isn’t more than five minutes, Phil gently presses a hand to Dan’s chest and slowly pulls away. His gaze is soft as he looks at Dan, his tongue absentmindedly swiping across his lips in a way that Dan thinks should be illegal. “Food, then… more of that?” Phil questions hopefully.

Dan nearly laughs. As if he wants literally anything else. “Absolutely more of that. The food can honestly go fuck itself right now, though, if I’m being honest.” Of course, his stomach decides that it’s an appropriate time to remind them how long it’s been since they’ve eaten, and they both glance down in surprise as it growls. Dan’s cheeks flush, while Phil cackles maniacally.

“Sorry, that was just- you tried- and then-” Phil is practically gasping for air, covering his mouth as he giggles. “Right. Let’s get some food in you, before you turn into the hulk or something.”

Dan pouts when Phil climbs off his lap and begins sorting out their food. “Rude, honestly.”

Phil hums, shrugging. “I bought your dinner, I reckon I can insist that you eat it,” he teases, grinning over his shoulder at Dan.

“Whatever, fine,” Dan says. He stands, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ribena?” He asks. He’s familiar enough with Phil’s kitchen that it doesn’t feel weird offering to go make their drinks.

“Wine, actually. There should be a bottle in the fridge from last time.” He doesn’t meet Dan’s eyes when he says this, but Dan’s secretly thrilled. They’d had a disagreement about whether or not you should chill wine before drinking it. Dan was pro-chill, and Phil was indifferent but insisted he didn’t have space in his refrigerator to keep a full bottle of wine. Much maneuvering later, Dan managed to fit in a smaller bottle of rose, much to his own delight.

“Right, some wine coming right up,” Dan says, affecting a heavily posh accent as he disappears into the kitchen.

As he’s pouring their drinks, the events of the last half hour finally hit him. He actually has to lower the bottle of wine to take a moment to process the fact that he’d just kissed his best friend. They’d fully made out, right there on Phil’s sofa. Dan manages to stifle his shocked laugh, because as thrilled as he is by this turn of events, he really doesn’t want Phil to hear him laughing to himself in his kitchen like some kind of idiot.

“A glass of rose, for you,” Dan announces as he comes back into the lounge.

Phil grins up at him, taking the drink with his nose raised up in the air. “Thank you, waiter,” he says, affecting a terrible posh accent.

Dan settles onto the sofa beside him, giving him a sideways glance. “Are you trying to mock me?”

There’s a sipping noise, and Phil offers a shrug as he smirks into his glass of wine. “Perhaps.”

“I do not talk like that.” He does.

Phil shrugs, setting his glass down. He looks back at Dan, tilting his head in a considering sort of way. “I reckon you kind of have some sort of Christopher Robin kinda vibe.”

Dan can’t help but dimple at him. “Winnie the Pooh was literally my favorite thing in the world when I was, like, six.”

“Really?” Phil asks. He sounds endeared. “That’s cute. You kinda look like Christopher Robin, too, actually.”

“I mean, right now I definitely look like a hobbit, not a cute animated character from a loveable children’s franchise, but thanks, I guess?”

Phil rolls his eyes at this, stuffing his mouth full of rice. He chews quickly, and as soon as he swallows he looks at Dan, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks like disappointment. “I really don’t like you talking trash about yourself. I think your hair is really cute.” Dan starts to protest and Phil raises a hand to stop him. “I know, but I’m just saying. You may not agree, but I just wanted you to know, that like, it’s a good look.”

Dan looks down at his food, his heart swooping as the words sink into his skin. He clears his throat, glancing over at Phil and nodding. “Right, well… thanks.”

There’s a smile on Phil’s face as he shrugs. He catches Dan off-guard, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. Dan’s face feels like it’s burning at the touch. “Netflix?”

~~~

It’s several hours later and the sun has set over the horizon, leaving a dusky light streaming in through the balcony door. Not that Dan is paying attention to the lighting right now. That’s the last thing on his mind, actually. Right now he’s sat in Phil’s lap, his mouth working fervently against Phil’s. Phil’s got his hands on Dan’s ass, and every now and then he squeezes gently, sending a shock of shivers down Dan’s spine. It’s so good, Dan is actually wondering why the hell they hadn’t tried this before.

Taking a breath, Dan pulls away, blinking blearily down at Phil. His hair is a mess from Dan’s hands running through it, and his lips are pink and slick with a mixture of their spit. He’s so goddamn perfect, Dan really wishes he had a camera.

With a laugh, he realizes he has access to a very nice camera right now. He twists his torso and reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing the very expensive and professional camera of Phil’s. He tinkers with it until he figures out how to turn it on, then he looks at Phil, raising his eyebrows in question. Phil studies him for a second but nods. Dan grins, lifting the camera up and taking what is probably a really clumsy and terrible shot of Phil’s face. He takes two more, and on the third, Phil reaches for Dan, sliding his hands up underneath his borrowed shirt.

“Oh!” Dan squeaks when Phil rubs his thumb over a nipple. Dan drops the camera, carefully, onto the cushion beside them. He sighs, dropping his head back as Phil leans in and latches his lips onto Dan’s neck.

He only kisses at first, then small nibbles follow. After a few moments, he tilts his head back and looks up at Dan with a smile. “Do you like this?” Phil asks, his voice incredibly sweet.

Dan laughs and nods, dropping a hand to run through Phil’s hair again. “God, yes. You can keep going. I really like it a lot.”

“Teeth?” Phil asks, scraping them gently across a patch of Dan’s skin as he says it.

A shiver runs over Dan’s spine, and his hand tightens in Phil’s hair. “Yes,” he breathes, barely holding in a moan.

Phil goes back to lavishing his neck in kisses, and now gentle bites that increase in intensity until Dan is a whining, throbbing mess, rocking his hips against Phil’s desperately. One of Phil’s hands comes down to squeeze his ass, and Dan just needs a little bit more, just a little, and he’ll get there.

“Fuck, Phil. I’m so close,” he pants, dropping his forehead against Phil’s shoulder. It makes it harder for Phil to access his neck, but Dan can’t take anymore of the torture. It’s too much.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Phil whispers in his ear.

Dan doesn’t even consider saying no. “Yes,” he breathes.

Phil gently guides him off his lap, leaving Dan standing in front of him as he makes quick work of pulling down Dan’s sweatpants. His blue eyes dance with mischief behind wisps of fallen hair as he takes Dan in the palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the weeping head of his cock. “Is it weird to tell you that you’re just as beautiful here as you are everywhere else?” Phil whispers, his words dancing into the air between them.

Carefully, Dan drops a hand to Phil’s hair, brushing it back to see his eyes, unobstructed. “No. Not weird at all,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly strangled with emotion. Phil smiles up at him, and Dan’s so fucking gone.

The blowjob is one of the best he’s ever received. The awkwardness of being with a new person that way doesn’t claw through his ribs the way it normally does, he doesn’t try to hide from the way Phil holds his gaze as his cheeks hollow around Dan’s cock. He’s so… content, in Phil’s care, so unafraid of the way Phil handles him, sucking and wanking him with enthusiasm, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. Dan’s whole body is on fire, and for every minute Phil works his mouth, he’s just that little bit closer to falling apart.

He tugs on Phil’s hair when he’s close. Phil blinks at him, maybe attempting a wink, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. Dan shivers. Pulling away for just a moment, Phil smacks his lips together and gazes up at Dan with something so heart-wrenchingly warm, Dan nearly looks away. “You can go in my mouth, if you want. I don’t mind the taste.”

Dan pets his hair. It’s ridiculously soft and smooth, just a bit greasy from going a little too long unwashed. Dan loves it. “Okay,” he murmurs. He gently guides Phil back to where he was, and Phil goes eagerly. Dan isn’t sure if it’s his enthusiastic approach to the task, or the way Phil’s eyes look, but when he falls over the edge, filling Phil’s throat with release, he feels the relief deep in his bones.

Phil neatly tucks Dan back into his pants before pulling his sweatpants up his legs, while Dan’s arms remain useless at his sides. He watches as Phil leans in, nuzzling his stomach before pressing a kiss to the waistband of the sweats, and Dan’s dizzy with the fresh wave of heat that courses through his body.

Rather than acting on his own sudden desire, Dan drops to his knees before the sofa, staring up at Phil and running his hands over his thighs. He’s impressed with Phil’s stamina, because despite being very obviously hard, he’s not touched himself this whole time. Phil stares down at Dan with such a sweet, easy grin, that Dan knows, he just knows that he can never go back from this. This feeling, the way Phil looks at him like he’s just put every star in the sky- Dan’s already addicted to it.

“Phil,” Dan breathes. He brings his hand that much closer to where Phil so desperately needs him. “Let me touch you.”

Phil kisses him. The angle should be awkward, with Dan knelt on the floor the way he is, but it’s nothing more than perfect. When they part, Phil sinks the pad of his thumb into Dan’s dimple. “Touch me,” he encourages.

The flutter of excitement in his stomach propels Dan forward, pushing gently on Phil’s shoulders so he’ll lean back, giving Dan space to work. Phil’s pajama bottoms, as disgustingly bright yellow as they might be, are loose and easy to work down Phil’s thighs. Dan’s patience expires there, however, and he makes no further move to remove them completely, instead shifting forward and tugging at the red Calvins that are so useless in concealing the shape of Phil.

“Fuck,” Dan whines as soon as they’re out of the way.

“Hm?” Phil inquires. His eyes are hooded when Dan looks up, and if he didn’t know any better, he might think Phil was drunk.

Dan swallows hard before leaning forward, giving a few little kitten licks to the head of Phil’s cock. “You’ve got a lovely cock. I thought you would.”

Phil groans. His hand catches in the mess of Dan’s drying hair. “How often have you thought about it?”

Dan pretends to consider this. “Enough,” he decides. Every day, his subconscious adds. He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond, getting right down to business, stretching his lips around Phil and relishing in the weight on his tongue, the taste of him, the texture. All these things he loves about sucking cock, but attached to a person he loves even more.

The thought shocks him enough that he manages to accidentally gag himself.

“You alright?” Phil whispers, ever the considerate one. His hands are carding through Dan’s curls, and he’s got an awed look about him, as if he likes Dan’s hair like this, likes Dan like this.

Dan nods mutely. He has to pause, though, just so the thought bouncing around his head doesn’t do something reckless, like take a step out of his mouth. He presses a fleet of kisses to Phil’s thighs, counting them so that both thighs will get an equal amount of affection. When his head finally quiets, Phil’s growing soft.

“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. He presses his lips to the side of Phil’s cock and suckles. “My head was being loud. I needed a minute.”

Phil’s eyes could be screaming, the affection in them is that loud. “Take your time. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop.”

Shaking his head, Dan offers him a grin. “Don’t get greedy, Lester. You’ve already shown me your willy, you might as well share it.”

Phil squeaks, his cheeks tinting with pink. He covers his face with his hands, peeking through the forest of fingers to blink at Dan. “Well, go on, then. You can��� you know. As a treat.”

Dan giggles. He kisses Phil’s left thigh, then his right. Then he takes him back into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base. One of Phil’s hands slips into Dan’s hair, but the other tangles with the fingers of Dan’s free hand. For every swirl of his tongue through Phil’s slit, Dan squeezes Phil’s fingers, and every time Dan drops to take him deeper, Phil tugs on his hair, a whispered apology falling from his lips every time.

“Close, Dan.” Phil sounds breathless, and Dan glances up at him, shivering at the sight of Phil already staring back, his full bottom lip captured between his teeth as he gazes down at him.

Dan doesn’t like the taste, normally. He usually only swallows to be polite, or if it’s convenient.

When Phil releases into his mouth, Dan swallows for neither of those reasons. He’s curious, and he wants to know how he tastes. Some part of him probably also just wants to impress Phil, but that part is secondary to the way his tongue cleans Phil off when he’s finished, greedy for a closeness that such an intimate part of sex provides.

When he pulls away, he blinks up at Phil, a little blearily. Phil sighs contently before swiping his thumb across Dan’s lips, no doubt cleaning him up. Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Phil swipes at his cheeks. “Come here,” he murmurs, tugging Dan up.

His legs are tv static beneath him, and will certainly be sore tomorrow, but Dan allows Phil to tug him into a sort of cradle in his lap. He doesn’t speak, he only pets Dan’s hair, peppering his face with sweet kisses while Dan thinks. It was only a couple tears, really, he justifies himself. Probably from allowing Phil as far down his throat as he did. There’s no other reason he would be emotional enough to cry while giving a blowjob, that’s for sure.

Dan’s not sure how long they sit there like that, but eventually he realizes it’s dark and panics. “I need to go.”

Phil’s eyes flash with hurt. “You can stay,” he argues gently.

He could. “I can’t,” Dan whispers.

Phil presses his forehead to Dan’s temple and takes a deep breath. “Tell me I don’t have anything I need to apologize for.”

Dan sinks his hand into Phil’s ruffled hair. “Of course you don’t. I wanted this.”

At that, Phil flinches away like he’s been burned. “As in, past tense? Like you don’t anymore?” His voice is panicked, and Dan would do, or will do, anything to calm him.

He gently cups Phil’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cherry lips. “I want it. I want you.”

“Then stay,” Phil breathes.

Phil won’t make him. Dan knows he won’t. But he feels chained to this sofa, to Phil, as if he can feel the metal carving into his wrists.

“I’ll stay,” Dan promises.

~~~

When Dan wakes up, the first thing he notices is a weight against his back. It takes him a second to remember the night before, but when he does, his lips twitch into a smile. Carefully, so he doesn’t wake Phil, he shifts, rolling over until he comes face to face with the other man. Phil’s mouth is dropped open in sleep, and Dan leans closer, admiring his beautiful eyelashes. He feels a little creepy staring at Phil while he’s sleeping, but Dan can’t tear his eyes away. There’s just something so soft about Phil deep in sleep, something that has Dan completely captivated.

Until Phil begins to wake up, that is.

Dan quickly scoots back, pretending he just woke up to save himself the embarrassment. He watches Phil wake up through half-lidded eyes, smirking to himself when Phil smacks his lips loudly, only to groan when he realizes how bad his morning breath is, probably. His blue eyes flicker over to Dan and suddenly that gorgeous grin is taking over his features again, filling Dan with this bubbly sort of happiness that he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Good morning,” Phil mumbles, his voice scratchy from sleep. Dan feels his face flood with heat at the way that sound affects his still-sleepy body.

“Hi,” Dan squeaks, turning over to hide his growing problem in his pants. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm. But the waking is better by far,” Phil says with a cheeky grin. Dan returns it, right up until Phil leans in, planning to kiss him no doubt.

Dan makes quick work of covering Phil’s mouth. “Not so fast there, Casanova,” he tuts.

He feels Phil frown against the palm of his hand. “Why not? I had your willy in my mouth last night, and now I don’t get a good morning kiss?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “First of all, you need some lessons on consent. I can consent to something one day and not want it the next, you turnip.”

Phil presses a gentle kiss to the palm of Dan’s hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pauses for a beat. “Could I please have a morning kiss?” he asks sweetly.

“Pft,” Dan snorts. He pats Phil’s mouth softly. “You didn’t brush your teeth last night, so that’s a hard no, bub.”

“Okay. How about if I go brush and use mouthwash? Then can I have a tiny kiss?” Phil requests, his eyes lighting up with joy. Dan wants to laugh at him- he’s like a little kid begging for a new toy.

“I’ll consider it,” he teases.

No sooner are the words out of his mouth before Phil is stumbling his way off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Be right back!” he sing-songs.

Dan snorts but watches him go. Left alone, the creeping doubts and worries begin weighing on him. They haven’t defined this, whatever it is, and Dan doesn’t want to be the one to ask. Phil’s older, he reasons, so he should be the one to ask Dan out or whatever. Just the thought of actually seriously dating Phil at all is enough to make him want to throw up with happy nerves, the best possible kind of lovesick butterflies inhabiting his stomach.

Still, as excited as it makes him, Dan doesn’t want to be the one to initiate the awkward “what are we” talk. He’s had his heart broken far too many times over that talk, or at the very least his pride. Another, smaller voice, argues that maybe he shouldn’t consider dating Phil at all. Their friendship is, after all, founded on Phil needing Dan for his photography project. Sure they have lots in common, but Phil has a whole other adult life outside of depressed, failing-law-school little Dan. And as much as Dan wants to believe Phil might actually like him beyond the circumstances of their friendship, he just very seriously doubts it. He might just be in this for the free model and the sex, now that they’ve evidently added that to the mix as well.

He’s thinking that this just reaffirms his reluctance to bring up the status of their relationship to Phil when his thoughts are derailed by Phil barrelling back into the room, hopping up onto the bed and immediately going to straddle Dan’s lap. “My mouth is minty fresh for you now,” he announces proudly.

Dan grins. “Just for me?”

Phil nods, mirroring the smile. “A little kiss?” he asks, holding his hand out and indicating a tiny amount with his fingers.

Rolling his eyes, Dan brings a hand up to massage at Phil’s side. “Don’t you want me to go brush my teeth too?”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil shrugs carelessly. “I honestly don’t mind it, but if you want to, I’ll wait.”

Dan blinks up at him. Phil stares right back, not caving. After several moments pass in their weird staring contest, Dan shrugs. “Alright, come here, then.”

Phil goes eagerly, pressing his lips to Dan’s with an intensity and passion that Dan wasn’t prepared for considering how early it probably is. Processing the time is a mistake, apparently, because as soon as that part of Dan’s brain is functioning, so is the part that reminds him that today is a Wednesday, which means he has class.

Pulling away with a sharp gasp, Dan reaches frantically to the side, searching for his phone in a panic.

“Dan?” Phil asks, his voice concerned.

“My phone- what time is it?” He asks, fumbling around on his- well, Phil’s- nightstand.

Phil shuffles off his lap, giving Dan space to sit up and finally grab his phone. He presses the power button and feels a fresh surge of panic realizing he’s only got half an hour, at best, to get up, change, and make it halfway across town back to campus for his nine o’clock property law lecture.

“I’m so late, fuck, I’m so fucked, god-” Dan rants, climbing out of bed and searching for clothes; his, Phil’s, right now he doesn’t care, he just needs to be dressed and out this door like now. “Fuck! Where are my- jeans, I need jeans. Did I wear jeans? What am I- pajamas, fuck,” Dan’s mumbling to himself under his breath.

“Dan?” Phil asks from where Dan left him on the bed. When Dan glances at him, he looks a little hurt. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, fuck, sorry, Phil. I’ve got class, and I really shouldn’t skip it, but later? We can-” he forces himself to stop there with the reminder that the ball is in Phil’s court right now. Dan clears his throat, glancing away. “Just let me know when you want to work on the photo series again, and we can sort out a time, yeah?”

“Er… Sure, okay,” Phil says slowly, like he doesn’t quite get it. “I think your clothes are still in my washer,” he says, his voice apologetic. “I forgot to switch the load out last night when we… er…” He trails off, and when Dan glances at him, his face is dusted with pink. It’s beautiful- he’s beautiful.

Dan shrugs the thought away. He makes the split-second decision to ignore what transpired the night before, at least until Phil confirms that the feelings Dan’s got are mutual. “Do you think I could borrow something of yours?” he asks, timid.

Phil smiles, a soft twitch of his lips, before nodding and moving to the dresser. “I’ll find you some jeans, but you can pick whatever from my closet,” he instructs, waving Dan towards the open closet door. Dan vaguely remembers whispering complaints to Phil about it the night before, whining about how creepy it was to sleep with the closet door open. Phil had ignored him, obviously.

After barely a minute of searching, Dan pulls out a sort of atrocious sweater, mostly black but with some purple and orange stripes that reminds him vaguely of the nineties. He doesn’t think before he shrugs out of his borrowed shirt, tugging the sweater over his head in its place. By the time he turns around, Phil’s stood there gazing at him with something adoring in his eyes.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out a pair of black jeans. “They’re ripped, just like you like them,” he teases.

Dan grins at him as he pushes his borrowed sweatpants off his legs. “Thanks, mate,” he replies. He tugs the jeans on, surprised that they fit him. Phil gives him a strange look when Dan makes a surprised noise and Dan shrugs. “Your ass is bigger than mine, so I’m just surprised these actually fit me. Flat ass problems,” he says, grinning at the way Phil blushes.

“I- you- I do not,” Phil argues pathetically. “My ass is-”

“Perfect,” Dan grins, unable to help himself, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Phil’s waist. He kisses him deeply, convincing himself he’s got the time to do so. He doesn’t, not really.

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles against his mouth.

“‘S true,” Dan argues. “You’ve got a great ass. Mine isn’t nearly as mouth-watering as yours.” He’s taking the piss, a little, but mostly to cover the fact that he’s had many a wet dream about that plump ass on those long legs of Phil’s.

“Your… Yours is… perfectly adequate, Daniel,” Phil argues between kisses.

“Mhm,” Dan mumbles, not even listening. He swipes his tongue across Phil’s lips before forcing himself to step away. “I really need to go.” He can’t keep the guilt out of his voice.

Phil’s face drops, and Dan nearly cries at how disappointed he looks. “Yeah… Okay. I’ll text you later?” He sounds unsure.

Dan nods hurriedly, almost to spite the voice that’s telling him to shut up and not jeopardize their friendship. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later?”

Phil nods. “Alright.” He walks Dan to the door, where he pulls on his shoes hurriedly. Just before Dan turns to leave, Phil darts forward and kisses him again. “Be safe. Learn something new!”

“Alright, Dad,” Dan jokes, rolling his eyes. Phil’s nose crinkles adorably at the endearment. “Bye, Phil.”

“Bye, Dan,” Phil echoes, holding the door as Dan leaves.

Dan doesn’t hear it close until he’s at the end of the hall.

~~~

There’s a subtle shift in Dan’s life after that, or at least the part of his life that’s intertwined with Phil’s. It’s not so obvious at first, just hanging out a bit more often without the constant excuse of Phil’s photo series hanging over their heads.

And then, of course, there’s the sex. That’s rather new, Dan thinks to himself as he goes to let Phil into the flat he shares with three other blokes. They’re busy, out-going types, which is something that Dan is super disgusted by and can in no way relate to. But their frequent absence does have its perks, like now, when Phil wanted to see him and wanted to get out of his own flat. Up until now Dan hasn’t invited him over due to his roommates, but upon Phil’s insistence, he’d caved.

“Hi,” Dan greets when he opens up the front door.

Phil grins, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Hello there,” he says happily. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, which Dan notices as Phil steps past him and further into the flat. “Will there be a grand tour?” He asks with a joking tone.

Dan snorts. He waves Phil ahead of him, into the lounge, which connects to a kitchen. There’s a hallway that cuts between the two common areas, and each of the four bedrooms, plus the shared bathroom, are that way. “This is it,” Dan says with a vague gesture around the room.

Phil takes it all in, as if there’s actually anything to see. “It’s cozy,” he says mildly.

He’s not sure if it’s just the sort of weird mood he’s been in or if that actually bothers Dan, but either way, he frowns. “I mean, I told you it wasn’t much, I don’t know what you expected.” He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but the tone flavors his words without his permission.

There’s a quirk to Phil’s left eyebrow when he looks at Dan. He definitely picked up on Dan’s attitude. “It just doesn’t look like you,” Phil says with a shrug. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Dan.”

Dan nods, looking away. He doesn’t want to fight with him. “RIght.” He nods to the hall. “Bedroom’s this way.”

He’s fully expecting a joke, so when it doesn’t come, he tenses. Something angry and red is poking at his anxiety demon, causing it to stir. He hates that feeling, he really, really does. Trying not to show it, he leads Phil into his room and promptly goes to sit on the bed, leaning back and watching as Phil surveys the new space. If Dan thought he was being observant in the lounge, his attention to detail in this room is tenfold. He studies every poster, every trinket, every key on Dan’s keyboard, as he slowly moves around the room.

They don’t speak for what feels like hours, but eventually, Phil drops his backpack on the floor by the bed and settles in front of Dan with a smile. “This is better,” he announces in a pleased voice.

Dan blinks at him. “What is?” He asks dumbly.

Phil reaches out and tucks his pinky underneath the rip of Dan’s jeans, stroking the skin there softly. “This room. It’s more you.”

“You think?” Dan asks, tilting his head as he considers it.

Phil nods with a smile. “It is, yeah. It’s full of little Dan things. I like it a lot.”

Dan tries, very hard, not to let that go to his head. “Thanks,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

There’s another silence as Phil tucks two more fingers into the rip of Dan’s jeans. It’s not really any sort of sexual searching, just patient, calming touches that go straight to Dan’s heart. Dan’s staring at his leg and Phil’s staring at him, always watching him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Without a word, Phil pulls his hand away and kicks his shoes off, crawling up the bed to curl himself around Dan’s side. He hums a questioning noise, and Dan just nods mutely, allowing himself to be maneuvered into a cuddle. Dan can breathe easier then, avoiding Phil’s eyes but feeling the comfort of his body wrapped around Dan’s. There’s a warm kiss pressed to the spot just behind Dan’s ear and he lets out a breath.

“How about a nap?” Phil asks on a whisper.

“Are you staying the night?” Dan asks, glancing over at Phil’s backpack.

“I was going to, but if you’d rather I didn’t-” Phil begins.

Dan interrupts him with a shake of his head. “I want you to stay,” he says, voice small. He rolls over in Phil’s arms so they’re facing each other, clutching the front of Phil’s shirt in his hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Dan apologizes.

Phil smiles, ducking forward and pressing a soft kiss to Dan’s lips. “It’s alright,” he whispers when he pulls away. He lifts a hand to Dan’s hair, stroking the chocolate waves gently. “Do you actually wanna nap?”

Dan shrugs, feeling a flush on his cheeks at what he thinks is the sound of a suggestion. “I’m not really in the mood for like, sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

There’s a look of panicked surprise on Phil’s face at this, and he’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, like, we can watch a movie? If you want to do that instead of sleep.”

Chewing his lip, Dan considers this. “I probably won’t be paying a whole lot of attention,” he admits, almost ashamed of his lack of attention span.

Phil smiles. “That’s alright.” He sits up and reaches for his backpack, pulling his laptop out and setting it on the bed. Before opening it, he turns to Dan with a quirked brow. “Are we going anywhere tonight?” he asks.

Dan shakes his head with a snort. “I’m not,” he says, disgusted at the very idea of leaving his warm bed.

“Good,” Phil says with a grin. He stands, immediately tugging his jeans down his legs. Dan isn’t sure if he’s meant to look away, but he doesn’t. He isn’t even particularly interested in a sexual sense, he’s just curious about how Phil looks when he’s getting undressed for bed. Phil looks up at him after tossing his jeans to the floor, and he has a light dusting of pink across his cheekbones when he sees Dan watching. “Quit looking at me,” he whines, climbing back into bed.

Dan turns his head pointedly to stare at Phil. “You’re nice to look at,” he says with a shrug.

Phil rolls his eyes. “You should take yours off too,” he says, poking Dan’s side.

Pulling the cover up, Dan gestures to his sweatpant-clad legs. “I’m already in my pjs, bub.”

“I know that,” Phil says with a sneaky little smirk as he opens his laptop and goes to Netflix. “But I think we ought to match.”

Dan huffs. “What if I get cold, huh?” He asks, quite theoretically, considering his body temperature almost always runs high.

Phil kisses his cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, baby,” he says sweetly.

Dan, embarrassingly, blushes at that. They still hadn’t defined this… whatever it was, so for now Dan only knew that he was quickly catching feelings for Phil. That was dangerous enough without the complication of their involvement for Phil’s photography project, so Dan’s decided that the easiest way to handle this is to ignore it. They can be friends, they can have casual sex, but he can’t even consider what would happen if those feelings turned into something more. His friendship with Phil had become one of the most important parts of his life, and he’d be beyond devastated if he did something, intentional or not, to jeopardize that.

Instead of acting on his instinct to move closer, emotionally and physically, Dan snorts, covering up the racing of his heart. “Shut up,” he says, struggling to keep the fond out of his voice. “Can we watch Avengers?” he asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Phil smiles at him. He types for a moment before turning the screen around, where, sure enough, he’s pulled up the first Avengers movie. He fiddles with the settings on the volume and screen size for a moment before pressing play, snuggling back on the bed. He very unsubtly moves his arm to wrap it around Dan’s shoulders, ignoring Dan’s faux-annoyed huff at the cliche gesture.

“Are you hungry?” Phil asks him in a quiet voice only a few minutes into the film. “I may have brought some popcorn with me,” he admits, shameless.

Dan can’t help but roll his eyes. “Did you bring the kind I like?” he asks, mostly kidding. He’d only mentioned it once or twice, that a certain brand of popcorn tasted better to him, but ever since then he’s noticed that particular brand taking up more space in Phil’s cupboards.

To his surprise, Phil nods. “I did. I even brought that candy you like to pour into the popcorn.”

Hiding a pleased smile against Phil’s chest, Dan huffs. “Will you make the popcorn if I get the drinks sorted?”

Phil kisses his forehead. The gesture warms Dan’s entire face. “Sure,” Phil says easily. He goes to climb out of the bed, then stops suddenly, staring down at his bare legs. “Would your roommates be particularly offended by a half-naked man in your kitchen?” He sounds only partially concerned.

Dan grins, pulling Phil towards the door. “They’ll get over it if they are.”

~~~

They don’t have sex that time. Looking back on it, Dan thinks that’s an important thing to remember about the first time he invited Phil into his home. Whether it was because he could just tell that Dan was having a bad day, or maybe just not in the mood himself, Phil doesn’t initiate anything sexual, not even when they’re curled around each other watching stupid YouTube videos at two in the morning. Instead, he just holds Dan, and allows him to be.

Dan thinks about that a lot, later, after everything falls apart.

~~~