#god I would let her test dubious medicines on me

[sglilac]

Save me beautiful doctor lady, save me <3 <3 <3

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself (Chapter 9)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 7.6k story words: 52k (so far) chapter: 9/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: sorry for the delay on this chapter guys! finals got the best of me and then i immediately went on vacation. i'll be back to posting once a week now!IMPORTANT: this chapter goes back to the day after Dan and Phil got drunk together, even though the last chapter skipped ahead from Dan's point of view. I wanted to be able to give Phil's opinion on situation :) 

The morning after Dan came over, Phil woke up to a dull pounding in his temples, a parched mouth, and an array of confused thoughts.

To begin with, Dan had been on his couch the night before — that was new. And was the direct cause of Phil’s confused thoughts. Until now, they’d only seen each other in public, they’d only spent time together at the coffee shop while sipping coffee that had usually gone tepid with time and munching on muffins that Phil often planned not to charge Dan for, but which Dan always paid for anyway.

In a lot ways, their time at Phil’s had been no different than their time at Beans and Grind. They had the same joking dynamic. They teased each other just like they always had. They interrupted their easy banter with the same bits of serious discussions.

But there were some things that were different, too.

In the past, Phil had suspected that Dan was flirting with him. But last night… well, Phil was more than a little suspicious.

A friend didn’t look at Phil like Dan had looked at him all night. A friend didn’t lay across Phil like Dan had laid across him last night. A friend didn’t imply that Phil made them happier than their significant other like Dan had a few times last night.

Right?

With a monumental effort, Phil tried to shake the thoughts from his head. It was all just too confusing to deal with when Phil was already battling a hangover. It was frustrating, really. Both not knowing what last night meant and not having the brain capacity to figure it out right now. He wanted last night to mean something — something more than just their friendship entering new territory. But right now, with his head buried beneath a thick layer of fog, he couldn’t process the events enough to decide what it meant, if it meant anything at all. Reluctantly, he sat up and dug his phone out of his covers.

10:45. Well, shit. So much for getting an early start on productivity.

Phil should edit the video he’d been planning to post that night. If he was feeling really on top of it, he should film another video because he always liked to be one ahead. Not to mention, he should really read over the proposition for a brand deal he’d received yesterday. All of those things required thinking clearly, though, which he certainly wasn’t capable of right now. Deciding that there was no point in rushing to get started on his to do list now, Phil threw the covers off and decided to make himself a nice hangover brunch of pancakes. Maybe some eggs would be good, too.

The entire time Phil cooked, he did his best to force Dan out of his mind, but his thoughts relentlessly drifted back to the curly haired, dimpled, gorgeous boy. Images kept flashing in Phil’s mind like a slideshow that he hadn’t asked for.

Dribbling the batter on the counter made Phil think about Dan almost spilling his drink. Holding the spatula made Phil think about Dan’s long fingers wrapped around his camera. Perching on the stool from the breakfast bar made Phil think about Dan nearly sitting in his lap.

Dan sitting in his lap.

Fuck.

Dan had been so, so close. No matter how hard Phil tried, he couldn’t erase the image of Dan’s face just inches from his. Having Dan there, tucked into his lap, was so warm. It was comfortable. It had felt natural, as if they had been cuddling like that the entire time they’d known each other. Phil knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted more. He wanted to have Dan that close forever. Phil had always thought Dan was beautiful, but his eyes, his dimple, his lips had been even more wonderful up close.

His lips.

Oh god.

There had been a moment last night when… when Phil had been almost certain Dan was going to kiss him.

That was insane, thinking that Dan might have been so close to cheating on his girlfriend. Dan was better than that — or at least he was in Phil’s biased opinion. Phil couldn’t imagine Dan actually fucking up his relationship like that.

But still, there’d been that moment. That moment when Phil was so, so sure that Dan might kiss him anyway.

That moment was intoxicating. Much more so than the alcohol had been. Dan had been so close, the tension had been so electric, that Phil almost got caught up. He almost let go. He was so, so close to just letting Dan kiss him.

They hadn’t kissed, though. And, honestly, Phil wasn’t sure who got credit for that. He’d like to have said that he wouldn’t have let Dan kiss him, that he would have pulled back if Dan continued to lean in, but. Well. He wasn’t actually sure.

Phil knew, he knew how wrong that was. Regardless of how much he wanted Dan to kiss him. Regardless of how troubled Dan’s relationship with Isabella appeared to be. Regardless of whether Dan wanted to kiss Phil…

It wasn’t right.

Dan was in a relationship, which trumped every single excuse, and Phil had far too high of morals to violate that commitment.

So they hadn’t kissed. One of them, maybe both of them, had pulled away.

And Phil tried to be happy about that. He really did. Despite all of the alcohol in their system, despite questionably (well, definitely on Phil’s part) flirting for weeks, they’d resisted.

As much as Phil tried to deny it though, a small, morally dubious part of him was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t had the chance to kiss Dan last night. To know what he tasted like. To know if there would be as many sparks when they kissed as when they touched.

Dan was a good person, too, though — Phil would argue that Dan was maybe even a better person than himself. Surely, surely Dan wouldn’t actually almost cheat on his girlfriend? Maybe Phil was imagining the whole thing. Maybe Phil had almost kissed Dan — against Dan’s wishes.

Fuck, he’d could have ruined everything. He could have completely broken Dan’s trust and lost Dan forever.

Phil didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to be that guy, but it was possible it was all in Phil’s head. That Dan didn’t see that moment as an almost kiss. But there was something else that kept running through Phil’s mind, too.

He had no idea if Dan was actually interested in guys.

Sure, Phil was pretty certain Dan was flirting with him, but Phil had never seen Dan interact with any of his other good friends (which, at this point, Phil was almost positive that he and Dan qualified as good friends). It was possible that Dan was just a touchy person. That Dan was simply inclined to saying slightly scandalous, dirty things. That Dan looked at everyone like they were… special.

Maybe he hungoff Louise like she was a life raft and said things inappropriate for Darcy’s ears when she wasn’t listening and stared at Louise like the sun shined out of her ass.

Dan definitely looked at Darcy like she was the most precious thing in the world, but that was hardly a useful reference point.

All of the little things that Dan did with Phil that he’d convinced himself were flirtatious — well, Dan could do those things with everyone. That could just be who Dan was.

Secretly, Phil hoped that wasn’t actually the case. He really, really wanted Dan to like boys, too. He really, really wanted Dan to like him. He really, really wanted Dan to only look at him like he was special. And most importantly, he really, really wanted Dan to break up with Isabella.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t.

The butter-drenched pancakes (and the two giant glasses of water) Phil made ended up helping his hangover a bit, but they didn’t quell the rampant confusion in his head. Phil knew the only way his mind was going to calm down was if he talked through his thoughts with someone.

But first, he needed coffee. Still somewhat groggy, Phil filled the kettle and flipped it on. While he waited for the water to boil, Phil riffled through the cabinet, searching for something to dull the persistent ache in his head. His fingers wrapped around the paracetamol bottle. That’ll do.

Dumping a few pills into his hand (okay, one more than the recommended dosage, he was desperate), Phil then poured the boiling water into a mug, and added a few spoonfuls of shitty instant coffee. He tested the temperature of the drink with the tip of his tongue, and, upon realizing it was much too hot to drink yet, he popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed the medicine dry.

Heading into the lounge, Phil balanced his mug on the arm of the sofa, grabbed his laptop, and plopped down. As his computer booted up, he texted PJ, figuring his best friend had woken up at a reasonable time, unlike Phil.

Phil: Hey peej, are you around to skype?

PJ: Sure, now?

Phil: Please, if you don’t mind.

Phil signed onto skype the moment his computer was turned on, anxiously awaiting PJ — he was a good friend, who had clearly dropped whatever he was doing to talk to Phil because the blue icon next to PJ’s name lit up just seconds after Phil signed on. Without giving PJ anymore warning or time to settle in, Phil pressed the call button.

“Hey Peej, how are you?”

“I’m good, you?”

Phil shook the bottle of paracetamol that he’d brought with him (just in case) and held up his water. Much to his distaste, PJ let out a boisterous laugh.

“Sick or hungover?”

Phil sent him an unamused look. “Hungover, don’t judge me mate. Listen, the older you get, the worse the hangovers get you.”

PJ chuckled again, the sound beating at Phil’s head. “I’m sure they do, mate. What’d you do last night?”

Phil sighed. He guessed they were jumping straight into what Phil wanted to talk about then. It was a good thing that Phil had been keeping PJ up to date on everything that had been happening with Dan.

“Dan.”

PJ’s eyebrows shot up. “You did Dan last night?”

“Oh!” Phil’s eyes widened when he realized how he’d phrased it. “No — no. I just mean I was with Dan, not that we — um, did anything.” Phil added a muttered unfortunately under his breath, but if the smirk on PJ’s face was anything to go by, it had been loud enough for PJ to hear.

“Alright then, what did you and Dan do if it wasn’t sex?” PJ’s eyebrows waggled suggestively. Phil rolled his eyes.

“He just came over and we got more than a little tipsy on spiked coffee.”

“Just came over?” PJ’s tone was disbelieving. “You’ve never exactly done that before, sounds like progress to me. Maybe this is actually going somewhere, mate.” PJ smiled coyly and sent Phil a wink.

“Well, see, that’s the thing.” Phil fiddled with his mug of coffee, trying to make his tone belie the severity of the current predicament. “I could swear he was… flirting with me, and he talked about the fact that he wasn’t so happy with Isabella. You know, his girlfriend. Or at least, I think she’s what he was alluding to. He wasn’t really… direct about it.”

“Hmm,” PJ murmured, frowning. “What do you mean?” The teasing was gone, now. PJ seemed to have finally caught on to the fact that Phil thought something wasn’t quite right about the situation.

“Like,” Phil addressed his mug instead of his computer screen. “He didn’t seem… happy. So I asked. If he was happy, I mean. And he said… well, he said he wasn’t happy in some ways. Which… I just want him to be happy? Entirely? Whatever that means.”

PJ nodded, staring at Phil contemplatively. “Did you ask him why he isn’t?

“Yeah, and he — he was somehow incredibly vague and very pointed at the same time. I asked him what in particular was making him not happy and he was quiet for ages, and eventually said do I have to say it?”

“And you think he was talking about Isabella?”

“I’m almost positive. He’s been insinuating a lot of things about her, lately. About them not… I don’t know, working, I guess? And then there was this moment right after that where — fuck.” Phil felt a blush rise to his cheeks. Cursing in front of the camera — even though it was just skype with PJ — felt wrong. “I swear to god I thought he was going to kiss me. I thought… I don’t know. That he might just… give in. To whatever this tension between us is. He was right there, and his eyes were doing that thing where they kept flickering from my eyes to my lips and…” Phil trailed off.

“And what, Phil?” PJ prompted. He wasn’t impatient, just encouraging.

Phil heaved a deep sigh before continuing.

“I wanted him to. And that’s so shit, that’s so fucked up. Because he’s in a relationship — and has been for almost a year. And cheating is so, so fucking wrong. But there’s a part of me — a bigger part than I want to admit — that really, really wanted him to kiss me. And that sucks. Because not only do I never want to support cheating, but even more than that — if I were to get Dan, that’s not how I would want him. I don’t want to be the other person.”

PJ nodded along quietly. “I know. I know that’s not who you are.”

Relieved, Phil’s shoulders relaxed at PJ’s response. They had known each other for years at this point, and Phil was sure there was nothing PJ could do to make Phil think he was a bad person. Phil hoped PJ felt the same about him. Deep down, Phil knew he probably did. But Phil also knew these selfish feelings he was having weren’t his finest moment and, well, he was nervous about PJ’s reaction.

“There’s something else, too.”

“What?” PJ asked, voice gentle.

“I don’t know if he’s even into guys.”

PJ burst into laughter, taking Phil by surprise. PJ was shaking his head affectionately, rolling his eyes at Phil as if he thought Phil was an idiot. “You don’t think he’s into guys? You’re concerned he was going to cheat on his girlfriend by kissing you, you think his hands loitered when he adjusted your shirt, you think he’s been flirting with you for weeks, but you’re still questioning if he likes boys?”

Phil should have known when he confided in PJ that the information would inevitably be held over his head as teasing material.

“Er, yeah?” Phil shrugged, not fully understanding PJ’s point.

“You’re a twat, Phil.”

“No, listen! There’s nothing online that suggests he does. What if I’m just projecting my feelings onto him? Even if he isn’t happy with Isabella, that doesn’t mean he’s into me.”

“Phil, do I really need to remind you that for the better part of a decade there was no trace of you liking boys online?”

“That’s different,” Phil replied petulantly.

“How?”

“I get to carefully control what I show because I’m the one who makes those choices. And sure, a lot of the information about Dan comes from his twitter and instagram and interviews, but just as much of it comes from other people and gossip magazines. I can’t imagine that he could keep dating guys secret.”

“First off,” PJ said. “I never said anything about dating guys. If he’s just interested, but not actively dating, he could take that secret to his grave, regardless of the media. Second of all, if he is dating guys, there are ways for it to not get out to the media. You know. You’ve had people sign nondisclosure agreements.”

Phil shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But still. I’m just… not convinced he was flirting, I guess?”

“Okay,” PJ said patiently, taking a sip of his own coffee. “So other than this almost a kiss thing, walk me through what happened last night and what makes you think he was flirting with you, and why you apparently think he might not be.”

Phil was quiet for a long moment, trying his best to compile his thoughts. Much to his annoyance, Phil’s brain felt like it was stuck in a haze, and he couldn’t quite manage to step back and think about things objectively. But that was why he’d called PJ, Phil supposed.

“Well,” Phil started uncertainly. “I know I’ve told you our banter has always seemed pretty flirty, but the flirtiness seemed so much more when we were drunk. Like, everything he said, every face he made, his tone — it felt even more flirty. Like his voice… it was lighter somehow? More teasing sometimes? And his jokes, they were definitely more risque. But his body language, that might have been the biggest sign.”

PJ looked properly interested now.

“What’d he do?”

“When I came into the room after making drinks, he was all sprawled out across the couch, and I told him to budge up so I could sit too. And he curled up, right? But when I sat down, he let his feet stretch back out until his toes were just inches from my thigh.” Phil stared at PJ imploringly at this bit of information, hoping that PJ would see the signs too. PJ’s eyes were narrowed, though, and he looked skeptical at best.

“Phil, I love you and I’m rooting for you two, but that just sounds like he wanted to be comfortable. Please tell me there’s more than just that.”

Phil bit his lip. He knew there was a chance that this was all in his head — he’d doubted himself all morning. But he also knew that Dan resting his feet close to Phil’s legs was just the tip of the iceberg. Dan had done so much more to make Phil question if last night had been entirely… platonic.

“Look, I know. I thought that too at first. But after a few minutes, he actually tucked them under my legs.”

PJ nodded and shrugged, silently conceding his point. He didn’t look quite convinced, but he didn’t look as skeptical as he had before, either. “Alright. What else?”

“Later, he got up and refilled our drinks, right? And when he came back, he handed both mugs to me and I was just like, okay sure, he wants me to hold them so he can sit. Whatever. But then he sat down and swung his legs across my lap.”

Finally PJ’s eyebrows shot up like Phil wanted them to. PJ looked as surprised as Phil had felt when Dan had lounged across him. Satisfied, Phil slumped back against the couch cushions, letting out a small sigh. Explaining Dan’s early actions was the easy part, now he had to explain… everything else that they had both done.

He was a bit chagrined about what he had to say next. It had felt good in the moment — everything had felt right in the moment. But looking back, Phil knew that some of his actions were questionable at best.

“And so I tested the waters a little, because at that point I was a little tipsy and reckless and — god, I don’t know. I’m so into this kid.”

“What did you do, Philip?” PJ sounded appropriately wary.

“Nothing serious,” Phil said defensively. “I just kind of, like, stretched my arm across the back of the couch and let my fingers fall on his shoulder? Which he didn’t seem to mind. Or rather, he didn’t even seem to notice.” Phil paused, thinking back to last night, trying to push through his own muddled thoughts. Dan hadn’t reacted, but did that mean he didn’t notice, or was he trying to appear as nonchalant and unphased as Phil had acted when Dan had first touched Phil?

“And then somehow, it got even flirtier,” Phil added, feeling a bit more confident in his analysis of the situation.

“It got flitier than him lounging with his legs sprawled across your lap and your fingers caressing his shoulder?” PJ deadpanned.

“Yes? I think so?” Phil responded hesitantly, now more concerned about the smug look on PJ’s face than the fear that he’d come to the wrong conclusion. “My camera was on the table and he tried to take a selfie, but he had no idea what he was doing, so I showed him. But I didn’t take the camera out of his hands, I just kind of… wrapped my hands around his on the camera and… fuck — that’s not the point.” Phil groaned, shaking his head and trying to pull his thoughts away from that charged moment..

PJ didn’t bother to hide his amusement, laughter bubbling under his breath and eyes twinkling with mirth.

“So he figures out how to work the camera, right?” Phil continues when he’s got his head clear. “And he leans in so we can take a picture. And again, remember I’m kinda, sorta, incredibly drunk at this point, I wrapped my arm around his back and pulled him in closer until suddenly his bum was pressed against my side and then his thighs were draped across my lap instead of his calves and he was just so close, PJ. He was so close.”

“Jesus, Phil. Is that even flirting? That just sounds like making a proper move. What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know.” Phil agreed, eyes wide and voice slightly panicked. “I wasn’t thinking, okay? I was drunk, and Dan had been flirting so much that I just… couldn’t help myself. But it wasn’t just me. After he took the picture, he didn’t move away.”

PJ’s eyebrows creased together. “Okay. What did he do?”

“He just kind of stared at the picture and ended up resting his head on my shoulder?”

PJ stared at Phil blankly. Phil took a long sip of his coffee to avoid having to continue meeting PJ’s dumbfounded look. The silence stretched on, or at least it felt like it did, while Phil waited for a response.

“Okay, let me see this damn picture,” PJ finally said, shaking his head, a bit too eager for Phil’s comfort.

Suddenly, a light clicked on in Phil’s head as he realized what PJ was doing. PJ didn’t doubt that Dan was flirting — hadn’t ever doubted it if his past hinting was anything to go by. But he was trying to get Phil to lay out all the evidence and feel confident about his interpretation of Dan’s behavior.

With more conviction, Phil pulled the memory card out of his camera and stuck it in the slot in his computer. The card was almost empty, so the picture was easy to find. Phil dragged the picture to his desktop, and then to the chat with PJ.

Before he could stop himself, Phil dropped this picture into his DM conversation with Dan as well, which was pathetically already opened.

It took a moment for PJ to fully take in the picture, if his expression was anything to go by. Not that Phil could blame him. It was certainly… a lot.

“Jesus, Phil.” PJ muttered. “You weren’t kidding when you said he was practically in your lap.”

“I know. I... can you just tell me what you think? Your honest opinion?” Phil asked desperately, ruffling his hand through his hair.

“Of this picture, or of you and Dan?”

Phil shrugged, not sure which he was looking for advice on— or if they were really separate issues. “Either, both. Whatever.”

PJ sighed and was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he sounded resigned. “I think you look like two drunk boys who are completely enamoured with each other.”

Phil buried his eyes in the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee, slowly dragging his fingers down his face. “I think so, too. Or I want to think so too, at least. Fuck.”

PJ chuckled. “This boy has you cursing even more than usual, you must have it bad. What would AmazingPhil think?”

Phil shot PJ an unamused look. “Kiss my ass, you dick.”

Still laughing, PJ held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sure your dirty mouth has absolutely nothing to do with your totally reasonable feelings for the guy.”

Instead of retaliating, Phil groaned, biting back his humiliation at how easily PJ was seeing straight through him.

“You’re right, though. I’m way too far gone.” Phil admitted. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

PJ studied Phil carefully, contemplating Phil’s question. Even though Phil had just been whining in frustration, he appreciated PJ giving his question proper thought. If ever there was a moment when Phil needed advice, this was it.

“Well,” PJ said after a few minutes of silence. “I’m not sure how many choices you really have here, mate. Not choices that keep your morals intact anyway. You could tell him your feelings, you could make a move, you could try to break him and Isabella up, but I don’t see you being comfortable with any of that.” Phil nodded in agreement — there was no way he’d be able to sleep at night if he did any of those things, regardless of the outcome. PJ motioned vaguely at Phil. “See, mate, like I said. Very few options. The way I see it, you’ve only got two.”

“That’s better than one, I guess.” Phil sighed. “Let’s hear them.”

“One, you continue on as things are. Let him be responsible for his actions, and you be responsible for yours.”

“Do nothing,” Phil added apathetically.

“Right.”

“Or?” Phil asked, a twinge of defeat in his voice.

PJ stared at Phil sympathetically, making Phil worry over what he was going to say next.

“Abort. Pull back. Distance yourself. If being close to him is messing with your head, or you feel guilty about Isabella, maybe stepping back is something to consider.”

Phil wasn’t sure what he’d expected PJ to propose as a second option, but it wasn’t that. The mere suggestion of going back to a more casual relationship with Dan caused Phil’s heart to race and knots to form in his stomach — partially because it made him panic that he really was guilty of something and partially…

Well, partially because the idea of distancing himself from Dan even one metaphorical centimeter was agonizing.

After PJ hung up, thoughts of Dan plagued Phil’s head as he edited, as he cleaned, and as he got ready for bed. He avoided the internet entirely so that he would feel less weird about not getting on twitter. He told himself he was avoiding the entire world wide web, not just Dan.

But even he couldn’t convince himself of that.

By the time Phil was waking up for his opening shift at Beans and Grind the next morning, he’d come to a decision. It wasn’t necessarily a decision he was thrilled about, but after everything PJ had said, Phil was at least somewhat sure that it was the right decision.

He needed to distance himself from Dan.

At least somewhat.

It sucked. Phil knew he couldn’t completely jump ship on his friendship with Dan. So long as Phil was working at Beans and Grind, and Dan kept coming, there was no chance that Phil could just not see Dan. And Phil knew that if he was seeing Dan — in any capacity, even as a barista — then Phil was incapable of not being friendly.

But every time that Dan came into the coffee shop, Phil could feel himself falling a little bit harder.

And he needed to protect himself.

So, no, Phil wasn’t going to stop seeing Dan. He wasn’t going to stop being friendly with Dan. But the joking around on twitter, the flirting, the unnecessary touching… all of that needed to stop. From now on, Phil resolved, he wasn’t going to actively seek out conversations with Dan or try to get Dan to stick around Beans and Grind for longer. Phil was determined to just let Dan… be Dan. Just let Dan come into the coffee shop when he did, leave when he did, talk when he did. No encouragement from Phil.

It was a good plan.

A good plan that was immediately tested when Phil got to work that morning.

From halfway down the block, Phil could see a figure huddled in on the stoop of the shop. He felt bad for them — it was far too cold to be stuck outside, and they were probably a homeless person trying to keep warm and out of the wind.

Phil felt for his wallet, trying to think if he had any cash on him. He didn’t. But, Phil thought, he could offer the person a muffin or two — the store usually had a few left over from the previous day that they weren’t supposed to sell anyway.

But as he got closer, Phil realized that the figure in the doorway wasn’t a homeless person. It was a very familiar, tall, lanky lump of black material and curls.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan said, his voice small, when Phil was close enough to speak to.

“Hi, Dan,” Phil responded as he dug his keys to the shop out of his pocket. “You’re here early.” He fought to keep his voice as disinterested, but still cordial as possible.

“Yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk to you.” Dan took a sip out of the coffee cup he already had in his hand.

Phil stilled, halfway through unlocking the door, and turned to look properly at Dan. Not only was he clutching a large cup from Starbucks, but he looked absolutely exhausted. There were deep, dark bags under his eyes, the whites of which were tinged red. His curls were messier than usual — while Phil was biased and always thought Dan looked gorgeous, Phil knew that his hair objectively looked like a bird had tried to make a nest of it. As Phil took in every sign of increasing distress, he felt his willpower crumbing bit by bit.

Wordlessly, Phil finished unlocking the door and flicked the light on. Dan followed him inside like a puppy dog, slinking over to the counter and settling down on a stool while Phil put his belongings in the staff area. When Phil came back out, Dan was engrossed on his phone.

In an effort to maintain at least some of his resolution, Phil didn’t say anything. If Dan wanted something — which he clearly did — he was going to have to be the person to start talking first. It didn’t matter if Phil’s heart was aching for him to help Dan through whatever was bothering him — Phil needed to distance himself.

Phil didn’t have to wait long. The silence only stretched for a minute before Dan locked his phone and looked up at Phil.

“So, uh, have you been online in the last twenty four hours?”

Phil narrowed his eyes, studying Dan. That was a weird question. Had Dan noticed Phil’s absence on twitter? Had someone important died that Phil should have reacted to? What could Phil have possibly missed in such a short period of time?

But even more confusing than the question was Dan’s tone of voice.

It was precise, and had the pacing of someone who was taking great care to appear neutral.

Clearly, it wasn’t a random question.

“Er, no, actually,” Phil responded. He felt pressured to appear as faux casual as Dan, so he busied himself with turning on the machines and getting everything ready for service. “I’ve been on an internet break,” Phil continued. “Why? Did I miss something?”

“Oh.” Dan’s forced expression melted a bit. He looked almost… relieved? “So you haven’t been on twitter?”

Phil dropped the towel he was holding. “No,” he said warily. “I haven’t been on twitter. What’s happened?”

“Fuck,” Dan muttered beneath his breath. “It’s probably for the best actually. Better to just… show you, I guess.”

“Dan, you’re beginning to worry me a little.” Phil abandoned his tasks and marched over to stand in front of Dan.

“Sorry, shit, hang on.” Dan unlocked his phone and clicked around a few times before holding it out to Phil. Phil reached to take it, but Dan pulled it back at the last second. “Wait, you have to promise not to look down at any of the comments yet. Just — just look at the picture for now, okay?”

Phil nodded, making a grabby motion for the phone. Dan shoved the phone in Phil’s hand, but looked a bit reluctant to do so. Tentatively, Phil looked down at the phone.

At first, Phil wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The picture was dark — really dark. But then Phil figured out what it was. The picture was taken in a dark night club, the people were illuminated mostly by green and pink lights. Slightly out of focus was Isabella — a very intoxicated Isabella. A very intoxicated Isabella hanging off of two very, very fit guys.

“When is this from?” Phil asked before he could help himself. It wasn’t the right question, but too late now.

“The night before last,” Dan answered.

“So when she had you get her into that club and you were…” Phil trailed off.

“At yours, yeah.”

For a moment, the room was silent, tense. Phil didn’t know what to say, or how to react to this. All he knew was that Isabella looked a little… too interested in those two men for someone who was in a relationship.

“Do you, um, know if it… means anything?” Phil asked tentatively.

Dan shook his head. “She’s out of town — in a different time zone. We haven’t had the time to talk really. She texted, told me not to worry, but…” Dan didn’t sound convinced.

“So what are you… going to do?” Phil asked. As terrible as it was, Phil felt a flicker of hope burn in his stomach. It was shitty, he was almost hoping for Dan to have been cheated on and his relationship to come to a crashing end.

This was exactly why Phil needed to distance himself.

Dan shrugged, looking preoccupied. “That’s not all,” he said, not answering Phil’s question. Dan motioned for his phone back and tapped around a few more times. He dithered with the phone, shifting it back and forth between his hands a few times, before sighing and looking at Phil. “Look, I’m sorry about this, I should have asked you first. I was a few drinks in, not that that’s an excuse. I probably shouldn’t have done it in general, really. It’s only causing problems. For me anyway. I don’t know about you. I just — fuck — here.”

Dan slid his phone back towards Phil. Phil wasn’t sure what he should be preparing himself for, but he picked up the phone. Again, it was opened to twitter, but this time it was a tweet from Dan that was on the screen. There were no words, just a coffee emoji and a martini glass emoji.

And a picture.

The picture Dan had taken with Phil’s camera.

It was cropped. Some. Not much, though. Dan had zoomed in so that the picture mostly just had their faces in it. The way it was cropped, Phil couldn’t tell that Dan was practically in his lap, but it was painfully obvious how close they were. Dan’s cheek was pressed against his, and their eyes were sparkling with drunk merriment. It was a good picture.

But it was an intimate picture.

And it was out there on twitter for the world — and Isabella — to see.

Phil wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, maybe Dan posting this picture was a sign that he was getting sick of his relationship, that he was considering finally getting the fuck out of it. But, on the other hand, Phil couldn’t silence the nagging voice in his head that was reminding him that Dan very well could have posted this picture just to get back at Isabella. Just to prove to her — and the world, maybe — that he was popular with other people, too. That he had options.

Even if the world didn’t know if Dan was interested in guys, there was an undeniable message carried by this picture.

Dan could cheat, too.

“Are you guys going to be okay?” Phil asked, forcing his voice to be even and not show his conflicting emotions of hope and annoyance.

Dan shrugged — he seemed to be doing that a lot this morning.

“Has she seen this picture?” Phil tried again, his annoyance at Dan’s lack of communication overtaking his hope that Dan’s bold move meant something more than just retaliation.

This time, Dan responded with a curt nod.

“And…?” Phil prompted. He was beginning to get properly pissed off — Dan was the one who’d brought this up in the first place, and now he was being completely uncommunicative and offering no explanation for posting this picture.

“She hasn’t said anything. She liked it, which I’m sure was her way of saying we’ll talk about this later.”

Phil’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to piece together the snippets he was getting from Dan and what he knew about Isabella. He didn’t appreciate that Dan was making him work so hard to figure out what the hell was going on. “And you think she’ll be angry? About this picture?”

Phil had a pretty good suspicion that she would be, but he wasn’t sure it could compare to his frustration. He didn’t really give a fuck that Dan had posted the picture without asking him — sure, he was normally a bit more private about his… personal life, but whatever. Phil was, however, livid at the reason Dan probably posted it — and, more importantly, that Dan wouldn’t just fess up to his motives.

“Angry?” Dan chuckled, a cold echo of his normal boisterous laughter. “It may be cropped, but it’s still the same damn cuddly, drunken selfie we took, Phil.”

Phil looked back down at the picture on Dan’s phone. He was right — it was cuddly, and between the emojis and the slightly unfocused look in their eyes, it was fairly obvious that they were drunk. And like PJ had said, they looked completely enamoured with each other.

“Do you think you’ll break up with her?” Phil asked quietly, not sure if it was a question he was allowed to ask. It was definitely a question that didn’t fit with his new resolution to separate himself from Dan.

“Jesus, I don’t fucking know, Phil.” Phil flinched back at Dan’s harsh tone. Dan either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Phil’s reaction, and continued on. “What’s it matter to you?”

“What’s it matter to me?” Phil’s rage came flooding back. “Gee, I don’t know. You’re using a picture with me — a picture we’d already agreed wasn’t suited for the public — to fucking get back at your girlfriend or something. Did you think about the fact that maybe I don’t want to be used like that? Or have my followers think that I’m —” Phil grappled for the words. “— that I’m encouraging this behavior?”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. “What behavior?”

Phil opened his mouth, hesitating.

“What behavior, Phil?” Dan voice was low, dangerous. Daring Phil to say it.

“Doing things that make it look like you’re cheating on your girlfriend. Cuddling up to someone else and getting drunk and —”

“Aren’t you, though?” Dan still sounded challenging, but there was something else to his voice, too. Something more timid and worried. “It’s not all in my head, right? You didn’t push me back, you didn’t tell me to stop. You — you — you pulled me closer.”

Heat flooded into Phil’s cheeks. Dan wasn’t wrong, Phil knew he wasn’t wrong. And for the first time, Phil felt like Dan might be just as confused, just as invested in this as Phil was.

“What do you want, Dan?” Phil asked, feeling hollow. Defeated.

Dan studied his hands. “I don’t know.”

“Well, talk to me,” Phil urged. “Try to figure it out.”

Dan buried his head in his arms. “Fuck, Phil. I told you. I don’t know. Do I really have to talk about it?”

Phil’s hands shook with anger.

“You’re the one who showed up before opening to talk to me, Daniel! But you can do whatever the fuck you want.” Phil snapped, dropping Dan’s phone a bit more roughly than was probably safe.

Dan flinched away from Phil, looking taken aback. Phil turned on his heel, perfectly intent on going back to his work, not wanting so much as look at Dan right now.

“Sorry, yeah, you’re right. I’m being a dick.” Dan said, snatching his phone off the counter, and sounding far more agonized than he had any right to be. “I’ll get out of your hair, sorry for ruining your morning.”

As furious as Phil was, as dismayed as he was that him and Dan may not be on the same page after all, it was difficult to see Dan in misery. Phil may have been miffed about the mixed signals he was getting from Dan, and he may have decided that a bit of distance was the right option but… he also couldn’t just let Dan suffer alone.

Phil’s mind spun, trying to weigh the consequences of the different paths in front of him.

“Wait, Dan—” Phil called without the consent of his brain. Dan froze halfway to the door. Phil couldn’t believe he was saying this, but, “It’s fine, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We can just… hang out if you’d prefer.” The words tumbled from Phil’s mouth with a defeated sigh, but as he looked at Dan, he saw the tension melt from his shoulders and his eyes light up hopefully. It was difficult to regret the offer when Dan looked so grateful.

“Really?” Dan asked.

Phil sat a scone on the counter as a peace offering. “Really, really.”

Dan met Phil’s gaze, eyes flickering down to plate on the counter and back up to Phil. A shy, relieved smile pulled at his lips.

Dan walked back, settling himself on the stool across from Phil and breaking a bite off of the pastry before holding it out for Phil to take some. “Thanks,” Dan smiled, “I just really need you as a friend right now.”

Friend.

The word twisted in Phil’s stomach like a knife.

But it was true. That’s what they were.

If Phil really wanted to, if he was stronger, if he tried, he could distance himself from Dan. Phil could make it so that he never had to endure the crushing blow of hearing Dan calling Phil a friend again. Phil could make it so that he never had to worry about what Dan wanted from him, what Dan might be running from, again.

But Phil didn’t really want to. He was weak and he wasn’t willing to try. Because at the end of the day, being Dan’s friend was better than being Dan’s nothing. In that moment, Phil realized that he was completely and utterly fucked. Phil knew that whatever Dan was willing to offer him — whether it was five minute chats while Phil made his coffee or drunken nights at Phil’s — Phil was going to take it.

And just like that, Phil’s resolve shattered.

In the coming weeks, Phil set a new resolution: Phil was going to take every single drop of Dan that he was allowed.

Surprisingly, he was allowed a lot of Dan. From social media, Phil knew that Dan and Isabella hadn’t broken up, but Dan seemed to have arranged his work schedule to fit around when he was able to hang out with Phil, not Isabella. Dan never came in for less than an hour anymore, insisting that everyone at the studio was fine with getting a later start to the day and working into the evening (Phil wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but he wasn’t prepared to call Dan out on it). Since the day Dan had tweeted the picture of them, he hadn’t missed a single one of Phil’s shifts, either. And on the days Phil didn’t work, they spent a lot of time on twitter — both publicly tweeting at each other and exchanging hundreds and hundreds of direct messages.

Dan had completely weaseled his way into Phil’s life. Dan was one of the most caring, passionate, and genuinely interesting people Phil had ever known. He was smart and witty and always seemed to desperately want to make everyone around him happy. Dan was everything Phil had ever wanted in a friend, in a partner. Dan was more than Phil ever thought was possible.

Dan understood the trials and tribulations of being in the public eye, but he wasn’t vain and vapid like so many people Phil had met. Dan always fought for what he thought was right, and chose his words carefully when he did so. Dan cared about Phil, and seemed determined to get to know him better. Everything Dan did, everything Dan said, radiated authenticity and fascination.

Every time Phil talked to Dan, Phil found himself wanting more, more more.

So Phil let himself take it. He let himself ask all the questions he wanted to ask and drop all the flirty comments he wanted to drop and stare all he wanted to stare.

He took and took and took.

And, against his better judgment, Phil let himself fall.

a/n: look, this chapter would have been complete and utter shit without the support of @auroraphilealis. at one point I was like "look babe, i'm just accepting that this chapter is going to be MAYBE 5k when editing is done" and she is a lovely lovely human and kept pushing and it ended up at 7.6k and i'm really happy with what it turned into. thanks boo <3