#i guess when i get passionate i she/her the fuck out of phil huh

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

it’s very interesting to me how interviewers frame the hiatus as a Break™️ because i’m just like… do they KNOW that dnp were building a house together during that time and were still living together? do they KNOW that phil kept posting the whole time and dan would sometimes be in his videos?

it’s just weird to me because it was dan’s break from youtube. like phil was fully single mothering us for 5 years with dan the absent father popping in randomly to drop hints of his love for us and then leaving again. put some respect on my girl’s name. idk whenever an interviewer says that i get deep phillie rage that bursts through my dannieism like RECOGNISE WHAT SHE DID FOR US!! THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS!!

and i know I KNOW they mean “together again” as a brand but it’s so fucking funny to me as a someone with severe phrainrot because maybe they didn’t make regular content together during that time but they were fully like “we adopted a fish! bought and built a house together! going on an anniversary holiday to japan!” and just dropping domestic bombs on us randomly

[intoduskoutofdawn]

Aurora Borealis (part 2)

| Here comes the second part to the first one 'Jessy needs a favor'. Still of course a Phil x MC piece.

Jessy, Hannah, Phil x MC

Warnings: swearing, smoking, bit of spice

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This day is sure a long one! You sigh as you put on your shoes, getting ready to leave. Tired you let your forehead rest on your knees for a moment. Well, you promised Jessy that you would be helping out at the Aurora tonight. Actually you are looking forward to it, it gets you out of your routines, which had become quite the drag over the last months since your move to Duskwood.

As you put on your jacket and stuff your keys in the pockets, you think back to your conversation with Phil this afternoon and how it made you actually think differently about him as a person. He was not just Jessy's brother with the bar and the good looks and the winks and the flirtatious comments anymore - you discovered that he is really passionate about pursuing his dreams, always making everything about his life special and worthy. It turned out to be something you really admired about him. All tangled up in these thoughts, you keep walking down the street, your arms wrapped around yourself with your eyes pinned on the road as you hear someone yelling from the other side.

“Hey!MC! Wait!” Jessy is waving at you, Hannah standing next to her also raises both of her hands. They run over the street and you get kissed on your cheeks, left from Jessy, right from Hannah. You flinch and laugh at your two friends.

Jessy points at you and says to Hannah in an ironically praising tone: “She is on her way to the bar, she took over the shift from me and saved me from being a huge disappointment to my brother.”

Hannah smiles and nodds her head in playfully exaggerated appreciation. “She is a real life saver!”

You roll your eyes and snark:”Yes, she is a regular superhero...”

Jessy giggls and grabs your arm. “Let's walk together, I actually just ran into Hannah a few minutes ago over there and then we saw you walking past us.” She pushes you in the middle between her and Hannah and the three of you start walking.

“So what were you brooding about again, MC? You didn't even spot us.” Hannah looks at you curiously.

“Oh, I just... Well to be honest, I was thinking about my encounter with Phil this afternoon. He gave me ride home and we were talking. It was really amazing, I think I learned a lot about him - how difficult it was for him to come here to Duskwood in the beginning. It's like I finally understand that his confidence doesn't just come out of nothing, you know, then it would be not more than arrogance, it's something he gained on the way where he is now. That is why it is so ...natural.” You suddenly stop a little embarrassed, you didn't even mean to spill out all of your thoughts like that.

Hannah raises her brows in surprise. “Wow, that was pretty...'elaborated'.” You look shyly over to Jessy, who seems to be thinking about what you just said about her brother.

“I think I get what you mean, MC.” She finally says slowly in a serious tone. “I always admired my brother for his strength, but I am also still intimidated by him from time to time...ok, most of the time. Our relationship wasn't easy because of all what happened with our parents. Phil seemed always to be able to grow despite or even because of all this.” You nod and then cover your eyes with one hand. “I really like that...or him. Am I crazy?”

Hannah gives you a wide grin. “Sure you are, that's why we love you! But why the hell would you feel bad, cause you found out something new about Phil and yourself?” She paused as you sigh and seem concerned about something. “Actually I think your onto one of the last Duskwood mysteries here...” She let's her hand stride through the air like her words are written on a billboard: “The man behind the mystery that is Phil Hawkins!”

The three of you burst into laughing - Hannah always knew when and how to lighten the mood. She turns her head to you again and bumps her elbow into your side. “So he finally managed to soften you up, huh?”

You shrug and roll your eyes. “I don't know. You think that was his end game?” Hannah shakes her head. “No, it doesn't sound like he had a plan there.”

“Definitely not!” Jessy ads “He would never just open up to you like that. You know, he is not that superficial, I think he is very capable to see that you are actually someone who he can expect to understand him, someone he confides in. Otherwise he wouldn't even bother, if you were just some girl he tries to impress out of her panties.” She swings her hand through the air like she was trying to chase away a fly. "Sorry, that I have to be the one to tell you, but you're quite special, MC."

“Well, you don't need to overthink it, MC, just see what happens from here on. You think it is complicated? Hell, you have been living here for a while now, Duskwood embraces the complicated!” Hannah says with a firm look. “What do you think is gonna happen to you? Why not take a leap once in a while?”

You smile at her a little helpless and sigh:”Maybe you are right, guess I just wouldn't want to end up as some girl...” you point a finger at Jessy “how did you put it? 'some girl, who got impressed out of her pants'?” “'Panties'...she said 'panties'” Hannah winks at you.

“Oh, MC, as if I would let my brother treat you like that! Well okay, I admit that I am totally incapable of standing up to Phil. But I would gladly slash his tires and leave an insulting and anonymous note. Just for you!” She chuckles. Well, when you got friends like that...

Finally you reached the front door of the Aurora. Hannah turns around and gives you a hug. “Mh, we're gonna have such delightful double dates, you, Phil, Thomas and me. Some wild Scrabble nights maybe.” You pinch the giggling she-devil in the hip. Now it's Jessy's turn, she takes your face in her hands and teases: “Finally we are family!”

While the three of you are squabbling around, the door of the Aurora suddenly gets pushed open and Phil is leaning in the door frame - slightly confused he raises his eyebrows about the peculiar scene. You softly push Jessy away and greet him still giggling: “Hey, Hawkins. Sorry, I would have been on time, if I didn't have to kill these two!”

Phil points his cigarette at his sister and looks over to Hannah. “So you two are chatting up my best employee of the night here?” Hannah rolls her eyes. “First of all, that's not a good pet name for MC. And more importantly, we had to discuss the future -” “Oh hush now!” You shut her up with a furious scowl.

Phil gives you a slightly amused look that asked for an explanation, but you just shrug and shake your head. And when you actually want the earth to swallow you whole – nothing happens!

Jessy walks over to Hannah and drags her slowly away. “Come Hannah, we have to go now. See you, big brother...” She turns around again with a vicious grin “Have fun, future sister in law...”

You stare mortified at the two girls walking away, sending out a silent prayer that Phil didn't hear what his sister said. “What did she just s-...” You quickly turn around, put your hands on his chest and push him backwards inside the bar. “Oh nothing, whatever, let's get to work already!”

You take a look around the room, your eyes adjusting to the dim light inside. The Aurora seems so much bigger than you remember, empty as it is at this time. Such a beautiful place! The dark shiny wood of the long counter perfectly guides the look to the center of the bar. Some old fashioned industrial lamps drenched everything in a warm light around the counter. You loved all the materials, that surrounded you here... wood, wrought metal, the leather of the furniture. The rest of the room was still dark, Phil didn't turn all of the lighting on yet.

Oh fuck! You hastily pull your hands back, you didn't even realize, that you still had them on his chest - blushing you look at him with big eyes. Phil is smiling widely but then he shakes his head. “You know, Miss MC, it's really hard to take how cute you are! You just can't help it, can you?” he says annoyed but not serious. He turns away and walks over to the counter, “Wait there! I want to show you something first.” What is he so excited about now? Anyway, get it together, MC, nothing but keeping your cool for the rest of the night!

Phil comes back holding something small...a remote? He turns and moves behind you putting his hands on your shoulders and maneuvers you to the other side of the bar, where you find yourself facing a black wall behind a seating area. “That's some black wall. I can't wait to tell my friends about this...” you snicker and Phil – still holding your shoulders- shakes you a bit to shut you up. “Wait for it...” he says in a dramatic voice. You keep your eyes focused on the wall. A small twinkling light appears in midst of the black. No it wasn't just one, there were dozens of them and you raise your brows in surprise - looking at star constellations spread all over the wall, like on the clear night sky.

“Beautiful!” is all you get out, admiring what you see. Phil has let gone of your shoulders, still standing very close behind you. “That's not all” he hisses into your ear. His excitement is contagious and you let your seeking eyes wander over the wall. And then there was a slender band of green light spreading itself wider and wider, you spot purple reflections in the green and even more colors swirled together, the light started to move, spreading and shrinking, sparkling and fading, sinking and rising. The Northern Lights!

“Aurora Borealis...” Phil whispers. “It's...” you start but you are not able to find the words just yet. You just stare at the dance of the lights. It feels like a huge curtain has been lifted in front of you and freed your gaze, the walls around you dissolved and you are striding through the endless universe. You lightly cover your mouth with your hands and whisper through your fingers not even aware that you saying the words out loud “It's like infinity and eternity are twisted together and became light...It's beautiful, one of a kind.” You can feel Phil laughing quietly in the back of your neck. “That is exactly how I would describe it... and you.”

Those words were pouring warm down your neck and you feel a shiver sliding along your spine. You are so very aware how close he is to you, feeling the warmth of his body standing behind you. If you just move half an inch, your bodies would touch...and then? You can feel rising heat and tension in your stomach going - south - from there. He didn't move, you just can feel his breath, shaking and hot right behind your ear. You close your eyes - as suddenly reality raises it's ugly head. This wasn't at all a good time for this! There were voices outside the window, it was almost time to open up the bar. This cannot happen now! You turn around and meet Phil's eyes for a short moment, a furious hunger flickering in them. Not even knowing what you are doing, you shift forward a little - leaning against him, hiding your face in his neck. “Phil, this...I...” you stop as you can feel his hands wandering over your back pressing you closer against him. You gather all your strength and push yourself away from his body and look him firmly in the eyes again. Wow, if looks could actually tear your clothes off....

“Okay, I am honestly sorry to kill the moment here, but I think you know, that this is not the right time for...this. There are people waiting to get in and because I took over the shift from your sister, I can assume you really need the help here tonight.” He closed his eyes and the smile on his face was bitter, he just nods acquiescently and slowly retrieves his hands, releasing you out of his grip. You feel dizzy and confused.

“Huh, I could really use some help here.” You angrily point a finger at him. “It's not helping that you just stand there, looking like this, smelling incredible...You need to say something, I want my grip back!” Phil suddenly laughs, raising his hands in defeat. “Well, Miss MC, what can I say? If you want, I can think of some other ways to let you see the stars...” He bites his lower lip, flinching his eyes shut. “Wow, that must have been the lamest thing, I have ever said..”

You nod your head laughing. “That was the lamest thing, anyone has ever said. But it actually helped. Thank you!” He sighs and shrugs, throwing off the tension and walks over to the counter.

“Okay, let's get started. Did I ever show you, where I keep the ice?”

You follow him and say with a deep sigh: “Yes...ice, good idea!”

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it,  I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn​)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

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Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

 Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway;  scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!” “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. “I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

[ohmygarlands]

Just a Memory

Gene’s body moved fluidly, rocking back and forth over his wife as they made love. The warm light on the bedside table illuminated Betsy beautifully, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on hers. It had been weeks since they were intimate. Gene enlisted in the Naval Air Service and was stationed in D.C. He would come home on a pass when he could depending on whether or not he was needed. In many ways, the time apart wound up strengthening his relationship with Betsy. They had hit troubled waters a while back when Judy had entered their lives:

While filming For Me & My Gal, it was widely speculated among gossip columns - which didn’t take long to reach the people they knew -  that Judy and Gene shared more than just a close friendship. Their affair did indeed go on both during and for a little while after filming. The love they shared, however, was real and for many reasons, it scared both of them to death. Both were married, and Gene had a new baby at home. He loved Betsy, and always had but there was something different about Judy. Judy aroused not only his body but his soul. She could keep him in a trance whenever they were together, one that would linger for hours after she had left. It brought him to his knees when he had to make the decision to take the moral high ground, parting ways with Judy to focus on his family. Begrudgingly, Judy let him off the end of her line. While Gene’s marriage was thriving, however, hers had faded to dust. It wasn’t long after that that her and David separated, and she found herself single and in the snakepit of Hollywood.

Though Gene’s marriage was thriving, it was no easy path. One does not simply move on from Judy Garland. Her memory lingered in his mind, her voice would come through his car radio every night on his drive home from the studio, they were busy on opposite ends of the lot shooting two different films yet would somehow always manage to stop by the commissary at the exact same time. It was as though he was drawn to her like a magnet, like there was some kind of invisible string attaching them both at the waist and no matter how many times he tried to cut it, it wouldn’t break.

It took enlisting in the Naval Air Service for the pain of missing her to finally subside. Even then, it was still there, it just became easier to deal with. His mind was elsewhere and he began missing Betsy more and more, every day that he was away. The love letters he once used to exchange with Judy, he was now exchanging with his wife. Her letters were the highlight of his day, he craved to hear how Kerry was getting along and Betsy never failed to include photos.

His body buckled on top of hers and he leaned down, placing a soft kiss against her cheek.

“Alright, that settles it… you’re staying in D.C. indefinitely,” Betsy panted with a sly smile.

“What do you mean?” He rolled off of her, pulling a cigarette off the nightstand.

“The way you make love when you’re home on a pass, I’ve been married to you for years, I’ve never felt anything like it,” she grinned.

Gene laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette before turning his expression serious, “There are no women there, Bets… I only have men to look at, day in and day out, you’ll be lucky if we leave this bed all weekend.”

“Good,” she softly smiled, dragging her arm over his waist and cuddling into his chest, “except…” she began.

“What?” He asked, blowing another cloud of smoke from his lips.

“There’s… a chance I may have… accidentally… on purpose… told everybody you were home this weekend,” she bit her thumbnail.

Gene sighed, “Where are we going?” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“A bunch of your pals from the studio are going out to Ciro’s tomorrow night, I told them we’d be there to have a drink and a few laughs.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” he smiled.

“They’re very excited to see you.”

Gene’s curiosity peaked, he stubbed out his cigarette before scooching back down on the bed, “who’s ‘they’?”

“Oh, you know, everybody… Pete, Frank, Phil…”

“I see,” he lowered his eyes, “Well, it’s a date then. I guess I’ll make an exception for them,” he grinned, rolling over and kissing her passionately.

The next evening, once Kerry was settled with the babysitter, Gene and Betsy made a swift exit, heading towards Beverly Hills. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one holding her fingers between his. Betsy couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s affections. She couldn’t remember the last time he was so attentive to her.

Gene took Betsy’s coat along with his and checked it before they headed into the club. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to a big table in the corner with a crowd of familiar faces shouting to him. He flashed that charming smile of his and with Betsy on his arm, made his way to the group.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in!” Phil Silvers teased, jumping from his chair.

“Hey you big lug!” Gene matched his excitement.

“Good to see ya! How the hell have you been?” Phil pulled out a chair for him and before Gene could answer, a cute blonde waitress appeared behind him looking for his drink order. He ordered a beer for himself and a glass of Chardonnay for Betsy.

“So they decided to let you free for a few days, huh?”

“Oh, the National Guard couldn’t keep me from coming home, my friend!” He said, putting his arm around Betsy.

“Well, you look better than ever! The Navy agrees with you!” Lucille Ball chimed in, exhaling smoke from her cigarette.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head.

“So what’ve they been keeping you busy with out East?” Frank asked.

“Well, it was a fight at first but I was stationed in the photographic section of the Air Service, I’m in charge of writing and directing various projects, in fact I just put the finishing touches on a training video I’ve been working before I came home. It’s called Combat Fatigue Irritability. The title is self explanatory…” He trailed off, it was a particularly heavy piece of material.

“Wow, you just can’t get away from the camera can you? You run off to join the Navy and you’re still stuck making pictures!”

“Now, come on, he can’t help it with a face like that!” Phil tossed his arm around his neck, pulling him in to give him a noogie. When Gene managed to break free, he cradled the base of his beer, twirling it around in his hand as he continued to laugh. The group had trailed off into another conversation with Betsy and when Gene looked up again, his wide smile quickly vanished.

There she was. There she fucking was. He wondered as he and Betsy were getting ready to leave if he would see Judy tonight. Ciro’s was practically a second home to her when they were together, he knew there would be a solid chance they’d meet again. But as prepared as he thought he was to see her, he couldn’t have imagined it would feel this way. His eyes were glued to her as the rest of the world seemingly faded away and she walked in slow motion with the arm of another gentleman around her waist. Her flowing hair - which was much darker than he remembered it, a little shorter too - bouncing at her shoulders, that unmistakable laugh echoing in his mind. His eyes drifted out of curiosity to the man who held her by the waist, it was Joe Mankiewicz, a relatively well known writer and producer at the studio. He was also known to be a bit of a leech... and to be a bit married. Gene could feel his jaw tighten as he curled his hands into a fist under the table when he saw Joe’s hand slide further down Judy’s backside as he led her to the bar.

That’s not my beautiful girlfriend, he thought to himself.

She is not mine anymore, he repeated in his head.

Betsy glanced over at her husband, immediately noticing his transfixed stare. When she looked in the direction he was, her own heart fell to her stomach. Judy Garland was a name she had heard all too often over the last two years. When the gossip columnists began writing about their suspected affair, everyone on the block was calling her. She couldn’t bring herself to believe the rumours but something about Gene’s demeanour changed when she was around. He became an empty shell when he was at home, even going so far as to flinch whenever Betsy would touch him. At the time, she chalked it up to the heavy pressure the studio was putting on him. They were both new to Hollywood, he wasn’t used to the schedules he kept. With that in mind, Gene managed to convince her the rumours were just that, a rumour. When Gene began to return to his normal self, she dared question it. She had been waiting for him to look at her again the way he used to, with his devoted love and admiration. But his expression now was one she had never seen before.

“Mr. Kelly, Earth to Kelly…” Frank interjected, waving his hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What?”

“You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Frank turned to look where he had been and when he saw Judy, it all came together. Frank was one of the only people who knew of their affair. It wasn’t his choice though, he had walked in on them fooling around in an empty rehearsal hall. From that day forward, he had acted as a scapegoat and alibi when he was needed, and tonight he delivered just the same. He glanced over at Betsy and immediately drew her attention away from Gene, making small talk about FDR being reelected president.

Gene sat stone faced, holding his beer in his hands. His eyes had lost sight of Judy but she was racing a mile a minute in his mind. The large nightclub suddenly felt like a tiny room with the walls slowly caving in. He frantically pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and when he felt Betsy’s hand land on his thigh under the table, he leapt up from his chair.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, knowing full well what the problem was but choosing to ignore the screaming voice in her head.

“I’m just going out for a smoke, it’s hot in here, isn’t it hot in here? I’ll be back…” He explained, darting for the entrance to the back patio.

He leaned over the railing, allowing the smoke to fall freely from his lips. The wind blew unseasonably hot that night, he could feel it stinging his face as he looked out onto Sunset Blvd. Gene had dated his fair share of women before Betsy came along, he had experience with ex girlfriends… but this, for some strange reason, felt like uncharted territory. What was this hold she had on him?

“I thought that was you,” her voice emanated from behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment before he could muster up the courage to turn around.

“Surprise,”

Judy took a few steps closer, placing herself in front of the railing beside him. She fished her own cigarette out of her purse and when she struggled with her lighter, Gene flicked his, placing the flame at the end of her smoke.

“Thanks,”

Gene nodded, shoving it back in his pocket.

“So what’s your excuse?” He asked.

“My what?”

“Your excuse for smoking outside. What did you tell him?”

Judy glanced down at her hands that gripped the wooden handrail, “Same as yours, needed some air.”

“How do you know that was mine?”

“Because I know you,”

“Joseph Mankiewicz, huh?” He said, staring forward.

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know a judgmental tone when I hear one. You have absolutely no right, so don’t you dare say another word.”

“You know he’s married, right?”

Judy paused for a moment before she answered him, “That never stopped you.”

“Touche,”

“Besides, you know nothing about him or us so why don’t you stay out of it?”

“Maybe I’m out of line here, Judy, but just what exactly are you doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“With him? I know who Joe is, I know YOU know who Joe is, are you… are you together? What is that?” He asked, gesturing towards the door that led back into the club.

“He loves me, he promised to marry me just as soon as he knows his wife is taken care of. She’s sick, you know.”

“Yes, I know. That’s so fucked up, Judy. You’re so fucked up.”

“Remember when you said you might be out of line?” She sneered.

“Do you truly believe anything he says?”

“Why do you care?! Why do you care if I believe what he says? Why do you care if we’re together?”

“I don’t… know, I don’t know why I care. I just, I fucking hate that guy and I know you’re better than that, you’re better than him. This is not who you are.”

“Who am I, darling?”

Gene looked away, turning his attention to another couple slow dancing to the faint music coming from inside on the other end of the patio.

“Look at me!”

Slowly, he turned to meet her gaze, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Garland. How could I?”

“Look, I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been getting along with Betsy, that was your goal wasn’t it? To put your family back together, and you have. I’m so fucking happy for you, I could just vomit. Now why don’t you give me the same respect, huh?”

“I’m trying,” he replied softly, “I got over you, Judy. I’m over you.”

Judy leaned in closer to him, her chin nearly resting on his shoulder, “No you’re not.”

Just then, Betsy came out onto the patio in search of her husband. The door swinging open caused them both to turn around.

“Betsy!” Judy exclaimed enthusiastically with a wide smile.

“Hello…” she said softly, her eyes locked on Gene.

“So nice to see you again!” The over delighted tone in Judy’s voice made Gene wince.

“You too,” she said, accepting a half hug.

“Well, listen, I better get back to my date. Lovely chatting with you again, Gene. I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, facing forward again.

Betsy replaced Judy at the railing and she looked at her husband, searching for answers she didn’t want to hear. Gene took the last drag from his cigarette before flicking it over the balcony, feeling Betsy’s inquisitive gaze.

“Shall we go back inside?” He asked, ignoring the tension between them.

“I think I’d like to go home,”

“Go home? Bets, we just got here barely an hour ago.”

“If you don’t mind…”

Gene and Betsy drove down Sunset, heading towards Rodeo. Betsy leaned forward, drowning the silence by turning on the radio. She fiddled with the dial until she landed on a rerun of a Bob Hope comedy special. As soon as she leaned back in the seat, Judy’s voice came through the speaker singing I Never Knew I Could Love Anybody the Way I’m Loving You. In true Garland fashion, she was following them again. Hovering over their marriage like an ominous cloud. Betsy glanced at her husband and immediately noticed that jaw tighten again before he changed the channel.

“Why did you turn that off?” She asked, accusingly.

“I’ve heard it before,” he replied with a blank tone.

The air was silent between them for a moment.

“Did you sleep with her?” She blurted.

“What?” Gene almost swerved into the oncoming lane.

“Gene!”

“I’m sorry, why did you ask me that?”

“Because I’m not daft, Gene. I wasn’t born yesterday. I saw the way she looked at you, and even worse, the way you looked at her. You’re a different person when she’s around. I don’t like you when she’s around, and I don’t like you right now.”

“How am I different, Bets? Because I wanted to leave the club?”

“You haven’t looked me in the eye since I saw you standing outside with her. You’re afraid to, you’re hiding.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Listen, things have been going really well between us over the last year, I’m happy with you now and there was a time when I wasn’t. I don’t want to move backwards, Gene… I don’t want to be scared of coming in second anymore.”

“Betsy! You’re not second, I thought we were past this. I thought you didn’t believe those damn Hopper columns.”

“I will only ask you once more and then I promise to drop this… Did you or did you not have an affair with her?”

Gene thought for a moment, torn over his answer. He pulled the car over, turned off the ignition and looked her straight in the eye.

“No,” he said defiantly, “I did not sleep with her, we did not have an affair.”

Betsy smiled relieved, placing her hand on his cheek. His skin felt hot to the touch. The accusations of their affair took him back to a painful time that he wanted to remain in the past.

“Thank you,”

“Can we go home now?” He asked, placing his hand on top of hers.

When Gene returned to Washington, he continued to repair his relationship with Betsy but it wasn’t long before Betsy began to pull back. Her letters to him became further and further apart, and with a full workload, it was easy for Gene to get swept up in his duties. He couldn’t pay attention to what was happening back home, there was only so much he could do from afar.

One evening, he returned to his barracks with a letter in hand. He hadn’t bothered to look at the envelope, he assumed it was from Betsy and he was beyond tired after working a fourteen hour stretch. He flopped down on the cot and tore the letter open, tossing the envelope onto the blanket beside him. His heavy eyes flew wide open when he noticed the slanted handwriting he was all too familiar with.

Gene,

I agonized over writing this letter. What can I say? Where do I begin?

I know how you love to be right about everything – so I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of knowing you were right about everything regarding Joe. He doesn’t love me. Did I ever really love him? I don’t think so. Know how I know? I’m not all that upset. When you broke up with me, I cried for days. I barely shed a tear for Joe. What does that mean? I shouldn’t be asking you that. That’s not fair…  I know our ship has sailed. Remember when I told you you weren’t over me? I know that you are. I know you’ve moved on. I can see it in your eyes, I could see it in the way you looked at me that night. It’s me, Gene. I’m the one who couldn’t move on. I think about you every time the phone rings, I think about you every time I play a record, you’re a constant white noise in my head and I don’t know how to stop it. I wish I could turn it off, but I can’t. I meant it when I said I was happy for you, darling, truly I did. But when do I get to be happy? When is it my turn? If only you could show me how.

Gene’s grip tightened on the letter. He turned the paper over expecting there to be more, but the sheet was blank. He flipped it back over, raising an eyebrow at its abrupt end. She always signed off on her letters.

Arriving home after another late night at Ciro’s with the girls, Judy trudged up to her bedroom. Tossing her shall onto the chaise lounge, she walked over to her vanity to grab a pack of cigarettes before changing into her night clothes. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an empty spot on the desk just below her mirror. The spot she was sure she had left the letter she wrote to Gene. She dropped the pack of cigarettes and her heart plummeted into her stomach. She tore through the vanity, checking in every little drawer and under a pile of magazines she kept. It was nowhere to be found. She had a few too many to drink that night at Ciro’s and for a moment she couldn’t remember if maybe she had moved it. She darted downstairs, tearing through the living room, in her bookshelves, on the fireplace. It had to be here somewhere she thought.

“Miss Garland?” Her housekeeper who often stayed the night to keep Judy company came in, barely awake, “What are you doing?”

Judy swung around, trying to remain composed, “Uhm.. I’m, just, I’m looking for something.”

“May I help?”

“No, no, you go on back to bed… I know it’s here some place.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“It was a letter I had on my desk, it’s gone.”

“Oh,” Pearl laughed, “Darling, I mailed it out for you earlier today. You were out of stamps but I took it to the post office along with a few other pieces I had.”

“You WHAT?!” Judy held her hands over her face as she felt every limb go numb.

“You didn’t want it mailed?”

“No, I didn’t want it mailed, Pearl! ...Oh my God, I think I’m going to faint,” she breathed, pacing back and forth before falling into the armchair. “Alright, well you mailed it today? Maybe there’s a way I can get it back. I can go first thing in the morning, I can have the post office retrieve the letter for me.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep, huh? Don’t panic. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

When Judy arrived at the Post Office the next morning before her early call at the studio, she was told the mail had been sent out the previous afternoon and there was no way to intercept delivery. With her heart in her throat, all she could do was accept her fate. Gene would receive the letter – the letter that was only meant to be written, not sent.

As each day passed without a response, her anxiety raised. Luckily, she was catapulted into work on The Harvey Girls and was in the midst of recording an album for Decca Records which acted as a temporary distraction. Her personal life inadvertently took a backseat to her professional one.

It felt like a year had passed, but it had only been a month since the letter had been sent. She was filming on an exterior train set, recording In the Valley (Where the Evenin’ Sun Goes Down). The crew were mesmerized, her voice came through louder than the playback, even for such a soft song. The day she filmed a musical number was always a favourite for anyone who worked with her. Standing in a darkened area by an unused camera in the back of the sound stage, Gene watched her as she leaned back against the train. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, she had never looked more beautiful than she did in that very moment. He wasn’t sure if maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her in months or if because she truly had never been more beautiful. Once again, she looked different, as she always did when there had been a significant absence between them. She looked more mature, he thought.

The song came to a close and when George called cut, Judy leapt off the train set and made her way to the director’s chair to discuss an idea on how she could improve the last shot. Gene stepped out from the back of the sound stage, his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked towards her. Judy was so focused on a particular idea that it took a few moments for her eyes to raise over George’s shoulder. When finally she saw him heading her direction with such a warm demeanour, she softly smiled a smile that matched his. She was confused to see him. She hadn’t been made aware, even in her social circle that he was home again. Judy politely excused herself from the director and began walking towards him.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in a warm tone.

“I’m home for a while… I heard you singing.”

“You know, you’re not allowed on a closed set,” she teased.

“I couldn’t help it. Your voice is magnetizing.”

Judy lowered her stare to the floor between them, the thoughts raced through her mind a mile a minute. She wanted to come right out and ask him if he received her letter but she couldn’t bear to face it. He hadn’t said a thing about it, he never even bothered to answer – maybe he never received it, she thought… and hoped. She remembered a few times her letters to David had been misdelivered when he served.

“I’ll be home for a good long while,” he began again, speaking softly, “and I’d like to see you.”

“You would?”

“If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Judy was promptly called back to the set but before she turned to leave, she asked him to stick around for another take, explaining that she thought she messed up somewhere in the outro. Gene agreed to stay, anything to keep his eyes on her even for just a few minutes more. He reached down and took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles before she turned and walked back to set.

Judy nailed the next take from start to finish. She often credited Gene for giving her her strength and confidence. She always performed her best when he was in the vicinity. As the A.D. helped her off the train all the while singing her praises, Judy only desired and eagerly anticipated Gene‘s thought. When she came around the train set, her exuberance fell the moment she realized the spot he was standing in was now empty. She glanced around the sound stage but he was nowhere to be found.

It was nearly 10:30pm when Judy was finally dismissed. After changing into her street clothes, she walked tiredly to the parking lot with a cigarette in hand daydreaming of slipping into her pyjamas and crawling into bed the moment she got home. The exhaustion from consecutive late nights and long days were quickly catching up to her. As she approached the row of reserved parking spots, she noticed a dark figure leaning on the hood of her car, smoke billowing from its mouth.

“Well, aren’t you the elusive one?” She said when she realized it was, of course, Gene. His arms were crossed and he turned around to look at her.

“I’m so sorry, Judy, I forgot I had a meeting on the other end of the lot with Freed, I needed to haul ass. You have a tendency to make me forget those kinds of things,” he winked. “I was beginning to think they’d never let you outta there.”

“You and me both, darling,” she said under her breath as she joined Gene and leaned against the hood.

“Again, however, I find myself asking what are you doing here?”

“I said I wanted to see you again. You said it was alright,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t think you meant in the MGM parking lot,”

“Let go for a drive,” he beamed.

“Now?” She checked her watch, “it’s getting late,”

“Late? It’s barely eleven o’clock. I’m away for six months and you become a lark. That’s it, I’m never leaving this town again,” he teased.

Judy faintly laughed, sighing at the end.

“I won’t keep you, honestly, I’d just like to talk… please? Let’s drive for awhile.”

Gene and Judy drove down Overland, heading North with no real purpose or destination in mind. Gene kept stealing glances at Judy while the radio played a Bing Crosby tune. As he glanced over at her, staring straight ahead as though she were terrified to look at him, he couldn’t help but smile.

“So you’re not over me, huh?” He blurted.

Judy winced immediately, “fuck…”

Gene laughed.

“That letter was not meant for your eyes, I am beyond embarrassed.”

“It wasn’t? My name written on the envelope kinda threw me off.”

“I wrote that letter for myself, as a sort of diary. I thought if I got my thoughts down on paper, I could move on, get past this, us… and my half wit housekeeper went and mailed it to you,” she pursed her lips together, trying to hide a self deprecating smile.

“Sure, I’ll pretend for a moment to believe that,” he smirked.

“It’s the truth! Do you honestly think I’d send you a letter like that knowing full well the effort you’ve put into fixing your family?”

“Honestly, yes,” he half-teased.

“Ouch…”

There was a moment of silence between them, the air that was light moments ago turned strained.

“I am so sorry, Gene… I didn’t want to jeopardize the progress you and Betsy made. It was not my intention.”

“I know it wasn’t,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry I–,”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. Whether that letter was sent by accident or not, I was meant to receive it. I needed to hear what you had to say.”

“How come you never wrote me back?” She asked earnestly.

Gene sort of shrugged his shoulders, “what can I say? I like keeping you on your toes,” he smirked again, lightening the air between them once more.

“You’re an ass.”

Gene pulled off the main road, turning down a path that led to a quiet garden. The park was completely dark but it gave them the privacy both were looking for. He pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine.

“May I ask what happened with Joe?” He pried, turning to look at her.

Judy shook her head, not in a way that was saying ‘no’ but in a way that indicated absurdity.

“That night at Ciro’s,” She began, “he took me home, he made love to me and then he told me I had to leave because,” she paused for a moment, the muscles in her neck flaring, “his wife was coming home early the next morning so they could celebrate their anniversary.” Gene tried to hide the I-told-you-so expression as she continued, “I had found a necklace in his sock drawer a few days before that, and I guess I thought it was a gift for me... It was for her. Doesn’t quite sound like a man on the brink of leaving his wife, does it?” She said with a mirthless smile.

“No, no it doesn’t.”

“I left his house that night, I didn’t hear from him again until several weeks later. I told him to go to hell. He didn’t even fight for me.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But what did you expect involving yourself with a married man?”

“I was involved with you,” she retorted.

“That’s different, and you know it,” he said, “I love my family, Judy,” he added, staring at the steering wheel in front of him, “I love my wife,”

“I know,”

“But if I love her so much, why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about you?” He said, almost getting angry, “When I was reading your letter, it was like I could have written it to you. You are exactly that, a fucking white noise that I can’t turn off. Everything reminds me of you, I can’t escape you… and to be perfectly honest, I think it’s because I don’t want to escape you.”

“Darling…”

“I tried to write you back, believe me I fucking tried. But what was I supposed to say? What more can I say to you? I don’t regret choosing my family, I will never regret anything that has to do with my daughter but why can’t I stop loving you?”

“For the same reason I can’t. There is something real here. It’s the metaphorical elephant in the room that never leaves, not for a second.”

“So what do we do about it?” 

“I haven’t a clue,” She sighed.

Gene smiled tenderly and raised his arm over her, gesturing for her to slide in to him. She shoved towards him on the seat and rested her head on his shoulder as he held her. For the first time in months, they relished in their physical contact. Gene placed a soft kiss atop her head, all the while inhaling her sweet and familiar scent. When his lips separated from her hair, Judy looked up at him with her mouth slightly parted. Her lips had never looked more inviting.

“Gene,” she whispered almost inaudibly. That was his queue to take the next step and capture her in a delicate yet heated kiss. His palm raised to her cheek before he allowed his fingers to gently graze down the side of her neck. The feel of him gave her instant goosebumps as their mouths continued in perfect harmony.

“Do you still want me?” She murmured, her lips still attached to his. Gene reached for her hand and slowly began to guide it to his trousers that were tented from his solid arousal.

“For as long as I live, I will always want you,” He answered.

He undid the zipper, reaching inside to pull himself out before placing her bare hand on him. He couldn’t help the deep groan that escaped his lips when he finally felt her around him again. He caught her in another desperate kiss as her small, delicate hand moved up and down his swollen flesh. Judy swung her leg over him and carefully lifted herself onto his lap with his assistance. He quickly began working at the buttons on her cashmere sweater, eagerly trying to free her to him. He let out a deep breath as he slid his hands over her chest to push the sweater off her shoulders. She was instantly bare to him – there was something so unbelievably erotic about her choice not to wear a bra after a long day. He smiled before lowering his mouth to her breasts, kissing and sucking each one. The waves of pleasure that coursed through her body and met up between her legs were quickly becoming unbearable.

“I’ve missed you,” he purred between kisses. Judy leaned forward, enveloping his head with her arms as she ran her dainty fingers through his jet black hair.

Judy lifted onto her knees while Gene guided his throbbing arousal through the leg of her panties. She shaped her mouth into an O as he slid effortlessly inside her. He gripped her thighs which were now much thinner than he remembered and dug his fingertips into her skin as she began to ride him faster and faster. When she went particularly hard on the up motion, her bottom hit the horn on his steering wheel, sending an obnoxiously loud sound echoing into the empty park. Judy immediately dove her face into Gene’s chest as she stifled a roaring laugh. Gene held her body against his as his lips pursed together, desperately trying not to ruin the moment.

“I’m sorry,” she snorted.

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling, taking her face in his hands again so she’d look at him. His hand slid to the back of her neck and he gripped her hair in his fists before resuming their rhythm, this time it was him leading. His pace quickened and suddenly Judy could barely catch her breath. Every thrust inside hit her in all the right places and she grasped the grab handle on the ceiling, preparing for the inevitable burst of pleasure she had been waiting so long for.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, digging her fingernails into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning to, baby,” he groaned.

Judy pulled in a deep breath, unable to exhale as her body began to betray her. The car felt like it was spinning as she released a soul shattering climax. Gene held on until he felt a few more tremors shake her body, then he plunged deep inside one last time and buried his face in her chest.

“Oh, my God… Judy…” he panted, feeling a rush come over him unlike anything he’d ever felt.

“My God, too…” She collapsed in his arms and he cradled her. She was so warm against him, he loved the sound of her laboured breathing becoming more and more relaxed, and the sweet audible moans she’d let out sporadically, they sounded so melodic. Neither could tell just how long they stayed like that for. All sense of timing went out the window when they came down from their vigorous aftershocks.

Gene kissed her again, soft and tenderly for a while, neither wanted the evening to end. When his hand once again cradled her cheek, his thumb caught a tear that had escaped her eye. He withdrew for a moment and looked into her misty brown eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

Judy tightened her lips, shaking her head as though she were struggling to properly convey her answer.

“I was just thinking about what a beautiful memory this night will be.”

“Why are you thinking of it as a memory?”

“Because it has to be just a memory, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gene,” she looked at him, all-knowingly, “are you going to go home and leave your wife?”

He didn’t answer, only leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“It’s not our time yet, darling,” she explained, “the time for us to act on the elephant in the room will come one day and we will know when it feels completely and unequivocally right between us. You’ll take me home tonight, I’ll go my way and you’ll go yours...”

“I hate the way that sounds… I can’t be without you for months again, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she encouraged, “you have to.”

“Why? Why does this have to end like this?”

“It’s not ending, darling, we’re just… putting ourselves on hold. If there’s one thing I’ve realized over the course of this night with you is that being in love with you and knowing you’re still in love with me is enough. It’s enough for me to hold onto until the day comes when we can be together – no hiding, no spouses, no rules.”

Gene took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He hated when she was right. He knew they couldn’t continue on the way they had been. Getting back together now would mean getting back together under the pretense of yet another affair. Both of them liked to think they were past that.

Gene helped Judy straighten up but kept her under his arm as they drove back towards Beverly Hills. Neither of them spoke a word the entire way there and when Gene pulled into her driveway, he looked at her for a moment, his mouth shaping up like he was about to say something. Judy pressed her index finger to her lips, silently asking him not to. Her eyes began to well up once more and she leaned forward, kissing him delicately. Gene’s lips parted slightly to receive one last warm sweep of her tongue. When they broke apart, Judy held her hands over her heart, mouthing the words I love you before getting out of the car. Gene watched as she walked up the pathway to her door and disappeared inside.  

J U N E   1 9 4 5

Sitting at the kitchen table, Gene jubilantly fed Kerry her breakfast. She had grown so much, he couldn’t believe how much he’d missed in the last four months. He was very proud of the work he was doing for the Navy but it was when he was home that he couldn’t help the small feeling of regret. Betsy would try to capture as much as she could about Kerry’s development in her letters but reading about it was entirely different than witnessing it for himself. Gene was fixing a little smiley face on Kerry’s food tray with her sliced bananas, grapes and strawberries when Betsy came in from the front porch.

“Did you happen to see the papers this morning?” She asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Nope,” he said, still lost in his fruit art. Betsy tossed the paper on the table in front of him and his eyes drifted to the large black lettering.

JUDY GARLAND WEDS DIRECTOR VINCENTE MINNELLI

[langdxn]

cute without the e | emo!jim x reader

the ship: emo!jim x reader

the song: taking back sunday - cute without the e

the summary: emo!jim wants to try out a stereotypical kink

the mission: cheer up my beautiful wife @shenevertricks1831​. i hope this helps baby!

warnings: vigorous sex, knifeplay (/razorblade-play), bloodplay, squirting, dom!jim, cockblocking sandy, mention of self harm, slight fluff if you squint

word count: 2.1k

“Mom, please, keep your voice down,” Jim pleaded in a gravelly hushed tone, nervously twisting his lip ring with the tip of his tongue.

“I will not keep my fucking voice down just because you brought a girl home,” Sandy hissed, hands flailing in the air as her means of expressing her blood boiling beneath the surface. “And quit playing with that fucking lip ring, you look desperate.”

Sandy was always aware how much her words hurt her son, but they still poured unfettered from her lips like diluted poison. Her fierce protectiveness of Jim only intensified with every day that passed without Phil, her life force aimed at the defence of her son in exchange for the wasted efforts on saving her marriage.

“I really like her, mom,” Jim’s gaze dropped awkwardly to his feet, hands weaving through his choppy black layers. “She’s a great girl.”

“I don’t care about your bullshit excuses, Jim Mason, you sound like your fucking father talking about his stupid whore.” Her snarls through pursed lips and gritted teeth skewed her face into that of someone Jim didn’t recognise. Someone Jim didn’t want to keep fighting against.

“Believe what you want, mom, you need to go and calm down,” Jim’s defensive palms flew into the air between him and Sandy as he backed tentatively through his bedroom door, clicked it closed and swiftly sliding the lock.

“I... I guess you heard all that, huh?” Jim sighed, collapsing onto the bed beside you and wearily wiping his eyes, oblivious to the smoky black smudges he created as his fingertips swept across his thick eyeliner.

You sat cross-legged atop the duvet, tugging at the loose threads on your jeans, the thin knee holes you chopped into the black denim fraying recklessly like your sanity mere moments before Jim burst into his room. “It’s okay, Jim. These things happen.”

“I’m sure your parents don’t call me a whore when I come over,” he blinked back tears, weaving his fingers through his hair, poker straight and a deep black that shone electric blue in the sunlight.

“Parents don’t understand and they never will, they haven’t grown up the same as us. They haven’t sat through an entire Taking Back Sunday record and fought back tears.”

Jim pouted, twirling his lip ring.

“Sorry, Jim, I should go—“

As you stretched out your legs to leave, Jim grasped your thigh.

“Please, don’t go,” Jim hummed softly, leaning in to plant a light peck on your cheek before bumping his forehead against yours. “Don’t let her spoil this.”

You swallowed thickly, focusing on his I fingertips digging into your jeans, his chipped black nail polish sinking comfortably into the denim. Your gaze wandered up his form, lingering on his AFI shirt you bought him for his birthday. You paused at his lips, his black lip ring sinking into his mouth as he chewed down nervously. Journeying up to his eyes, deep and piercing like the boundless waves beyond his bedroom window, they stared back at you warmly.

“Come here, princess,” he husked, cupping your face with both hands and drawing you in for a haunting kiss, his lips consuming yours with a hungry intent, sitting up to tower over you and deepen his infinitely passionate embrace. He mumbled into your mouth with a low growl, “I want you so badly.”

“What if your mom hears us?”

“Good thinking,” Jim hummed, smiling against your lips as he reached for his phone in his back pocket. With a few blind taps, somehow without breaking your kiss, his bedroom speakers broke into song.

Your lipstick, his collar, don't bother, angel

“You’re such a fucking emo,” you chuckled into his mouth, tugging his shirt before parting from his lips to cast the black cotton across his room.

I know exactly what goes on

“You love it really,” he giggled with a quirked eyebrow, decimating your shirt in the same manner and leaving his fingertips lingering impatiently at the top your studded belt. “Almost as much as I love you but much more than I love these fucking jeans that I can never get off you.”

When everything you'll get is everything that you've wanted, princess

Rolling your eyes and curling the corner of your lips, you battled with your buckles and zips as Jim practically drooled over you stripping for him. Laying back against the pillows to slip the denim past your hips, Jim gulped uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

Well, which would you prefer?

“That’s it,” he growled, gripping your jeans and sliding them past your knees before slithering between your thighs. “Stay just like that, baby girl.”

My finger on the trigger or me face down, down across your floor?

Anticipation hitched in your throat as his one hand lay gently in the valley of your pelvis, the other grappling his length from beneath his jeans. Cursing himself for putting on three studded belts that morning, he finally battled himself free and proceeded to run his tip over your clothed folds, gradually dampening at his mere presence.

Well, just so long as this thing's loaded

“Jim,” you husked through gentle gasps, hips rutting frantically up to him. “I need you inside me.”

And will you tell all your friends, you've got your gun to my head?

“Not just yet, be patient for me little dove.” Jim fixed a soft peck on your forehead before diving over to the bedside cabinet, tucking into a drawer and retrieving a small gleaming razorblade. Your breaths stilled as you clocked its flawless silver sheen, reflecting beautifully in the bayside sunset beaming into his room.

This all was only wishful thinking

Pinching the blade between his fingers and spinning it idly in his grasp, a devious grin crept across his full lips, his gaze darted back to your eyes to discover the glint of fear in them.

And will you tell all your friends you've got your gun to my head?

As much as you trusted Jim, he’d never wanted to hurt you before and, holding a shimmering razorblade above you, it certainly looked like that was his intention.

This all was only wishful thinking, let's go

“Can I…” he trailed off, not sure how to describe his intentions. Hovering the blade over your breast, he traced a small letter J in the space just above your skin, moving to your other breast to mime a letter M over it. “Is that—“

Don't bother trying to explain, angel

“Of course it’s okay, Jim,” you smiled contentedly once he’d explained his idea. Resting your hands around his waist to signal your willingness, Jim breathed a sigh of relief and leaned in to kiss you. “Be gentle with me, yeah?”

I know exactly what goes on when you're on, and

“Always, baby girl,” he cooed softly, one hand swiping aside your panties and pressing his leaking tip at your entrance, the other lightly sinking the blade into your chest just enough to feel the cool metal shock your skin.

How about I'm outside of your window?

Jim had worked out his positioning meticulously in the moments he’d hesitated — marking just beneath the light red rubs of your bra lines, where your cup would conceal his initials once you dressed.

Watching him keep the details covered

“Ready?” His excited intonation poured through his broad grin. As you nodded tentatively, he rocked his hips forward and slipped through your folds while swooping the curve of his J into your breast, leaving you hissing through gritted teeth. Years of self harm taught him how hard to push down on the razor to make light chicken scratches that delicately weep crimson, the small swipe across your skin gathering a soft bead of blood at the edge.

You're such a sucker for a sweet talker, yeah

The searing shock of the cut sent a bolt of pleasure down to your core, a fresh wave of arousal flooding around him as Jim buried his length inside you. His eyes widened, blown with lust and a sadistic streak you hadn’t seen on him before. Where his hips had rolled carefully into you at first, his pace now quickened as he growled under his breath, gazing lovingly at the wound and plowing into you as your blood gathered.

And will you tell all your friends you've got your gun to my head?

“Jesus fuck that was hot,” he moaned, casting the razorblade to your side as he anchored himself with both hands curled over your shoulders, pulling you down as he curled his hips and rammed his cock against your walls. His gaze couldn’t part from the slash, the single droplet now racing across your chest leaving a glistening red trail in its wake. “It looks beautiful, you look beautiful.”

This all was only wishful thinking, this all was only wishful thinking

“Li—like what you see, baby?” You stuttered through broken pants, his furious pace stealing your breath from your lungs. His satisfied smirk widened, pounding into you ruthlessly in response, soft hums leaving his lips with every thrust.

The only thing I regret is that I never let you hold me back

“Oh yeah I do,” he mused, leaning down to lick a clean stripe over the wound, sweeping the gathering crimson beads onto his tongue and groaning gratuitously as the metallic tang shocked his tastebuds.

Hoping for the best just hoping nothing happens

His eyes nearly popped from their sockets as he leaned back to take in the view before him — gazing down at his girlfriend, spread wide open beneath him, your breast bleeding ever so slightly — a wave of insatiable hunger for you washed over him.

A thousand clever lines unread on clever napkins

“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” Jim gushed, fixating on the wound so hard it was almost as if he was addressing the J carved neatly into your chest, bouncing with every snap of his hips. “You know that right?”

I will never ask if you don't ever tell me

“Kinda got that when you started carving your initials in my tits, Jim,” you joked, raking your nails down his back and raising your hips to meet his.

I know you well enough to know you'll never love me

“You... you just get me,” he trailed off as he hammered against your walls, his persistent aim tightening a burning coil deep in your belly. “You know me, you understand me like nobody else.”

Why can't I feel anything from anyone other than you?

“So hurry up and finish it before I cum, Mason,” you pleaded through breathy moans, your spine keening eagerly toward him with every thrust, an inch away from the hollow ache of the coil in your gut snapping. His own climax wouldn’t hold much longer, noticing his base frantically twitching between your folds.

And all of this was all your fault, and all of this

Jim obliged all too happily, reaching for the blade again and leaning down to press a jagged M into your other breast, concealing the shock of the slash with another sharp snap of his hips.

I stay wrecked and jealous for this

The heat from the fresh cut once again sent a jolt of arousal through you, this time an overwhelming tsunami that left you gasping as you came over him.

For this simple reason I just need to keep you in mind

“Fuck Jim, I’m… I’m—“

As something larger than life

As Jim reared his hips back, the room filled with sinful squelching, realising you’d squirted all over him as your fluids came gushing through your folds. A deep growl erupted in Jim’s chest and he quickly pulled out, pouring his release over your abdomen and crying out with every spurt over your pale skin.

I stay wrecked and jealous for this

Your chest heaved relentlessly through your aftershocks, panting as you gazed down at the new scrawl on your chest. Jim’s stare fixed on it just the same, waiting until he rode out his own orgasm before leaning down to latch his lips onto the crimson droplets from your second wound.

For this simple reason I just need to keep you in mind

Moaning greedily as the coppery taste filled his mouth, Jim smiled against your chest and planted a kiss over his last initial.

As something larger than life

As the music faded around you, Jim pulled up to capture your lips in a lingering, grateful, haunting kiss.

“Baby girl, that was…” he hummed into your mouth, cut off by the sounds of his mother’s voice shrieking in the hall.

“Do you two think I’m deaf or something?”

[flowerpotphil]

Not-So-Chocolate Bunnies

@easterphandomgifts @tatitnof

Summary: It's Easter, who doesn't love a bit of chocolate? Only there's a bit of a mix up with what turns up at the apartment.

Easter, birthdays, Christmas, they're all such good ways to indulge in a little extra chocolate. In reality it's a whole lot of chocolate, but that's just a given anyway. Phil had been caught sick with a cold a week before, and it really knocked him back a lot. He was dizzy when he moved, lethargic, and he just wanted to sleep. Dan had gone out and brought all his Easter presents for people, he'd gotten some for Phil to give out too, but Phil had to get Dan's still and he had no idea how long he'd be stuck in bed.

It was around midnight when he got the idea to order it online instead, and see if he could get the chocolate delivered on the day itself. He patted himself on the back for that idea, it was one of his best. Unfortunately, his snuffed up brain couldn't remember the word 'chocolate', so he typed in 'bunny that is brown' and searched it. Too tired to read the description of the page, Phil clicked the first link and went through it without thinking, putting his card details in and ordering the chocolate bunny, or what he thought was a chocolate bunny.

Over the week, Phil started getting better. He'd watch movies with Dan and even got the energy to record a gaming video, but he did fall asleep where he was sat until midnight, leaving Dan to edit the video. What Phil didn't know was that Dan planned on doing a liveshow, and while talking about the next gaming video, he decided to show Phil live, to thousands of people, asleep. And  decided to flip him off. So that really was great, there was a new meme to add to the already endless pile.

Easter came quick enough, it fell on April Fools day that particular year, and they'd already formulated their plans to prank their fans - a livestream of pigeons. Of course, it was Phil's genius that came up with it.

"Who do you think will watch it? I bet no one with stay for the full 5 hours." Dan grinned, cuddling into Phil and away from the cold. It was going to be a dreary day anyway, and he was leaving for Reading at about 3 so he wanted to get his fill before being split up for a few days. Not that they wouldn't constantly text; they were as lovestruck as teenagers and that passion hadn't ceased since day one.

"There's a few that will, I'm guessing 1 out of 100 will stay for it." Phil sighed, "I'm sorry I couldn't get you an easter egg." He ran his hand up and down Dan's arm when he felt him shiver. "You've been sick, you don't need to apologise to me you dumbass." He wiggled out of Phil's arms and rolled to face him. "You're enough of a gift for me."

Phil had to admit, Dan looked cute with his little scrunched up nose at the soppy thing he just said, but it didn't stop his reply, "You've still got to pay the rent, you stalker." It was a running joke, and it wasn't a secret than Dan literally hadn't left Phil's side for more than a week, and that was only when it was dire.

"I'll move out then. Bye!" Dan stuck his tongue out slightly, then practically bounced out of the bed. Feet patting along the carpet as he half-ran through their apartment. "Dan you're scared of the dark, how are you even going to survive on your own?" But he could already hear the clatter of porcelain bowls on their marble counters. He counted 2 clatters, so he took it as Dan was bringing him his breakfast. It was too cold to get up anyway.

It was so cosy in the bed that Phil started to drop back off to sleep, eyes shutting as he burrowed into the pillow. Then there was a smash and a scream. A lot of screaming. And curse words. "Fuck you, stupid moth, fuck you, get out!" He was yelling, the entire of London would know there was a moth at this point. Phil groaned and got up, putting his glasses on and blinking as he sight was suddenly so much clearer. His socks were warm, so at least he didn't have cold feet like Dan.

"What's going on?" He asked, walking into the kitchen to find Dan curled in the corner. "Get it away from me." There was a moth on the counter, it was probably in shock at a giant yelling at it. There was a smashed glass on the floor by the oven, probably from when he saw the bug in the first place. "It's just a tiny moth, what's so bad?" Phil cooed, laughing as Dan glared at him. He took a glass from the draining board and put it over the moth, leaving it to flap around until it calmed down. "It's sorted. You okay?" Phil reached to pull Dan to his feet, being careful of the glass. "I'm okay, it just surprised me when it flew in front of me and I freaked. "And that's fair enough. But now I'm hungry."

Dan got breakfast ready while Phil cleaned up the mess and threw the moth out of the window, it was quite an effective system really. They went to the lounge, put Riverdale on, and ate as usual. Phil kept an eye on the clock, he was expecting the doorbell to ring at 10 and the chocolate to be delivered.

He hovered around the door until the doorbell went, it was blatantly obvious to Dan that he was waiting for something. "I'll get it!" Phil nearly squealed, like a preschooler at an ice cream van, and made more noise than a horse as he ran down the stairs.

He opened the door, and a lady stood there with a cardboard carry box with holes in it. "You wanted a bunny?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Phil didn't really get why, from what he could see it was pretty cute that they'd made it look like an actual animal was being transported in the box. "Yes, thanks!" Phil took the box carefully, he didn't want to break it. She smiled and walked away, tossing her hair over her shoulder and she did.

"Daniel! Delivery!" He giggled giving the box to Dan. "God Phil it's heavy, have you literally order me a house? Are you trying to get rid of me?" Dan looked in mock horror as Phil laughed, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth slightly. He was still laughing when Dan let out a confused 'huh' and looked over at Phil. "Phil, come here." He raised an eyebrow and it was a little concerning.

When Phil looked in the box he was taken aback. A brown rabbit with black eyes stared back at him. "When did you order this?" Dan asked, reaching in to get the rabbit out. "In the week?" Dan looked up at Phil and pulled a face, he must've thought it was a chocolate rabbit, not a chocolate coloured one that was actually alive. "I'm such and idiot..." Phil hid his face in his hands and huffed.

"You aren't, anyway, I like her!" Dan was smiling at the little rabbit that was cuddled in his lap. "You do?"

"Yes! She's such a darling. I feel like this is better than a chocolate one, we can keep her and love her and it'll be the sweetest thing!" Phil loved seeing Dan get worked up over cute things, he really loved it more than anyone could imagine. "She needs a name though." Dan put his hand on her to try and settle her a little. "Anna?"

"Annabelle? It seems a little more eloquent?" Phil suggested, reaching down to stroke her fur, she was really soft and he fell for her quicker than he'd ever imagine. "Annabelle, it suits her."

They sat on the couch cooing over her, stroking her fur and playing about with her ears, Dan completely forgot that he was waiting to do something special for Phil - something he'd never, ever forget - the bunny was too much of a distraction.

After about an hour, Phil looked at the clock and muttered something about going to get the stream set up. It was midday so he'd probably get some food on the way back. He did. He got some left over pizza ready for the stream to start at 1, they munched on it and then, taking Annabelle with them, went to their room to pack Dan's bag.

Although it was more of Phil lying on the bed playing with her than it was helping Dan pack.

"You need to coordinate your outfits." Phil commented when he saw Dan just throwing any old thing into the bag. "Why? It's just my family who'll see me and then I'll come straight home." He dropped the shirt he was holding onto the floor and looked over at Phil. "You pack for me then." Here was a cheeky smile on his face, he just wanted to play with their new pet. "Fine."

Dan squealed at that and stumbled over to the bed while Phil got up and dumped the clothes onto the floor. "You're cleaning that up." He pointed at the clothes, but Dan didn't even react to it, he just continued talking in his baby voice to Annabelle. Perfect.

Nearly an hour passed and they started the stream, watching it on Dan's phone cuddled up on the couch until it was time for him to go. They did feed the birds on the hour, but there wasn't really anything exciting going on.

That was until Dan realised he hadn't given Phil his big surprise yet. And he was due to leave in 5 minutes.

Without waiting a second, Dan ran upstairs to their room and started rummaging through the boxes he'd stacked in the corner. "Come on, come on." He groaned to himself, trying to find the box he'd hidden from Phil. Phil was always the type of person to go looking for his surprise, so it was hidden well. "Aha! Here we are!" Dan punched the air in triumph and grabbed hold of a black box.

Phil was obviously a little tense about Dan's timing, ever since he drunkenly blinded his eye temporarily it had become even more of an issue. He couldn't call out because of the stream, or text Dan.

When he appeared, he walked over and muted the video, then watched as people commented frantically about them muting it. Dan chucked and put his hands on Phil to turn him around. "Close your eyes and look when I say." He instructed, then there was some shuffling. "You can-" Dan didn't even finish the sentence before Phil had turned and was looking at him. "So, Mr Lester." Dan was smirking as he saw the slap of shock on Phil's face. He didn't reply, but Phil was shaking slightly at the sudden load of emotions. "Will you marry me?"

"Is this a joke? Because it really isn't funny if it is..." Phil stuttered, but then Dan got out the little black velvet box. "I promise you this isn't a joke."

That was it, that was enough to make the tears spill faster than ever.

A brief pause ensued. "Of course I'll marry you!" Phil had to wipe his glasses down, giving Dan enough time to get up and wrap his arms around him. "I think it's time I need to leave, I'll see you soon Mr Lester." Dan grinned and kissed his nose, then unmuted the stream.

And no one had any idea.

[purple-spring]

Tomorrow - a SH fanfic

Author’s Note: This is my first SH fic and I have absolutely loved writing it. While I know that RPF is controversial for some, this was a piece I wanted to write to speculate on how SH began. This is obviously purely a work of fiction, and no offense is intended. Inspired by the following songs: “FOOLS” (Troye Sivan), “Television Romance” (Pale Waves) and “Can We Work It Out” (Gordi). A huuuuuuge thank you to @jandjsalmon and @theladylabyrinth for all their feedback and encouragement!

Summary: Lili and Cole are friends. Really good friends. So what happens when she wakes up next to him on a couch?

“What would it be like to let him in, to let herself love him? What would it be like to take a chance, to abandon her fears and leap freely into the unknown?”

Fic after the cut. Enjoy! And I love love love feedback, so leave me some love in my asks; hate will be blocked and deleted!

What came first was the warmth. A languid, pleasant warmth that reminded her of… of what? Of Christmas morning, she thought, with a sleepy smile. The gentle anticipation. The feeling of being home.

The second thing was her neck. It hurt. It rested awkwardly not on her own pillow but on the flat, firm surface of a couch that was definitely not her bed. She forced her eyes open and squinted against the bright California sun streaming in through the balcony.

Debby’s balcony. She was at Debby’s place. On Debby’s couch. Fuck. Guess I didn’t make it home last night.

She blinked slowly, attempting to rouse from her groggy haze. She’d overslept. Usually she was up by this time, but a few late nights in a row must have thrown her body off its normal cycle. But despite that, and despite the pain in her neck, she realized that she hadn’t actually slept this well in ages – a deep, dreamless slumber snuggled underneath a giant blanket. Maybe that’s why I feel warmer than usual.

Her neck really was killing her, though. She turned slightly to try and crack it, but was startled by something - someone - shifting behind her. An arm tightening protectively around her waist. A hand half-curled underneath her t-shirt, grazing her bare stomach. A sleepy groan mumbled into her hair. And, most tellingly, the faint scent of a familiar cologne cut by the slight undertone of cigarette smoke.

No.

She suddenly remembered.

Cole.

FUCK.

Her stomach dropped. Cole was spooning her. She had fallen asleep with Cole.

If she could have, she would’ve screamed. But she didn’t want to wake him and face the awkwardness of the situation, so she settled for gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes as tightly as she could, until she saw stars. A thousand thoughts streamed through her mind.

Is Debby awake? SHIT SHIT SHIT. HAS DEBBY ALREADY SEEN US?

I should go. Yup. Definitely need to go.

Okay, Lili. Focus. We can do this. But we need a plan.

Maybe I can sneak into the kitchen, make myself a coffee and pretend that nothing happened once he wakes up.

No. He’s not that gullible. He’ll know.

Okay, how about I pretend to fall out and then we can just laugh about it after? Then it’ll all just be a stupid joke, no harm done! Right? Haha.

Oh, god. Fuck. This is the worst. I’m just gonna go home. Screw it if he wakes up. I am not equipped for this.  

Then, in the midst of all the rambling, a traitorous thought.

Or I could stay.  

Her breath hitched at the audacity of the suggestion. She shut her eyes against it. No. No. We’ve been through this, Lili.

She felt her throat tightening, eyes threatening to brim over with tears. Images flashed through her head of the torture she had subjected herself to these past few months - letting herself fall for him and then battling, resisting, attempting to undo everything she felt for him.

Because this was all just so typical. Here, lying down next to each other, without any certainty of what they actually were… it was classic Cole and Lili. Affection without definition. Entanglement without clarity.

She sighed. A sigh that she felt all the way down to her bones.

How did we get here, Cole?

…

The immediate, short-term answer to the question was fairly simple.

Debby, Cole’s friend, former co-star and temporary roommate, had texted her the night before with an invitation to come over for dinner. “Cole’s still out of town so I’m getting the girls together for dinner. You down?” With nothing but ketchup and a bag of frozen peas sitting in her fridge, and with no other plans than hitting up her beloved Taco Bell again, she quickly replied with a grateful “yes”.

Lili had become fast friends with Debby since Cole introduced them to each other. Debby was lovely, down-to-earth and, in all honesty, not at all what she’d expected. If she’d been a psychologist or an anthropologist, Lili would have loved to have analysed both Debby and Cole as outlier case studies for the Disney child star phenomenon. They were both smart, worldly, kind and well-adjusted – totally opposite to the cliché of the bitter, washed-up, cynical ex-Disney kid (although she just knew that Cole would probably pipe up at this and say that he was bitter, washed-up and cynical. And then she’d have to roll her eyes and give him real-life examples of why he wasn’t any of those things. And in the middle of passionately enumerating ways in which he wasn’t bitter, he’d stare at her and say, “Okay, relax, Dr. Phil. I was kidding.”)

Lili hadn’t realized that being friends with Debby, well before anyone else on the cast had even met her, was somewhat significant, until she mentioned it in passing to Madelaine over lunch.

“Wait,” the redhead said in between sips of her smoothie. “So you’ve met Debby? Debby Ryan?”

“Um, yeah. Haven’t you?” While it was true that Cole and Lili had been cast first and had been acquainted since February, the rest of the Riverdale gang were becoming closer and were starting to mingle within each other’s circles.

“No. I mean, I’ve come across Debby at a few parties, but unless you count smiling at her awkwardly while re-applying mascara in the bathroom, then no, I haven’t actually met her.”

“Oh.”

“And I certainly haven’t had Cole introduce me to her.” Madelaine looked at her pointedly.

Huh. That was odd. But of course she’d met Debby. Cole was living with her while he was in LA. And Lili had assumed…

Well, what? That Cole brought all of his gal pals over to his place and got them to hang out regularly with one of his best friends? That this was just a normal occurrence for anyone within his circle?

Yeah, kind of?

She was startled to realize that this wasn’t true. Madelaine had a point - she was the only one. She’d even met Dylan, too. To the outside eye, that was… something. But he happened to be in town, she reasoned. And Cole and I had plans to hang out anyway, so…

“Lils, you there?”

Lili snapped back to attention and quickly changed the subject to cover up her thoughts. She brought up their plans to go bike-riding in Vancouver. In no time, Madelaine was distracted, chattering excitedly in between using her phone to find the best bike rides in the city. Lili contributed to the conversation whenever she had to, but her mind was somewhere else. The rest of that lunch – and every day since then, really – she couldn’t shake off that mild revelation that what she and Cole had wasn’t quite the same as what everyone else did.

…

How did we get here, Cole? Now, the long answer. This was more complicated.

What did she feel for him, anyway? ‘Like’ and ‘love’ were simplistic, overused terms. Of course she liked him. They were way beyond that. Did she love him? She wasn’t sure. This was why she rejected those terms to begin with – they were too vague, too general. They didn’t describe the way she felt whenever she was with him, or away from him.

If she could distil it to its essence, she’d say that she and Cole fit, in a way that calmed and exhilarated her in equal measure. It was easy being friends with him. That part came naturally to Lili. Like laughing at a really good punchline, or breathing in oxygen after being underwater for too long. They knew each other uncannily. They laughed at the same jokes and finished each other’s sentences. She told him once that he challenged her views on reincarnation because surely they’d met in a past life. Soon it became a running joke between them. He even created an entire fictional universe about their past lives as otters living along the Nile River (“That… is so random, Cole.” “Well you try studying archaeology for four years and not having Egypt in your subconscious. Shut up and let me have my otter dream.”)

But then there was also… him. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t find him objectively attractive. It was disarming, to say the least, even though it lay underneath the rumpled clothes he insisted on wearing, which she didn’t mind. If anything, while his brother and his friends teased him by observing a strict roll call for his small roster of shirts (“It’s Tuesday, Cole, how come you’re wearing the Friday Orange?”), she found it endearing, and it drew her in and intrigued her. He was like a prince in exile, determined to downplay any part of him that referenced his darkly glittering childhood. But that face – the keen, blue stare, the mischievous mouth, the constellation of freckles – could not have been more at odds with the concealment. It was a face that was going to stand out no matter what.

So it was that Lili found herself veering between appreciating their easy friendship and then looking up and realizing that the goofball who was making her laugh was also the same man who could make her heart stop in its tracks.

And he wasn’t helping, either. Sure, there were times when she she felt like nothing more than a pal. Like when he’d throw fries at her head. Or FaceTime her at 3 in the morning to show her a cat he’d come across during a shoot (“Very nice, Cole. Now fuck off,” she had said while he cackled at her groggy face dotted with pimple cream. “IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS PLANNING ON SEEING ANYONE, my god, go away”).

But then, there were other times that made her wonder. Like that time when she mentioned that she’d damaged the original lens on her camera, and woke up one morning to a package on her table containing a newer, much better one, attached with a note simply scribbled “For future adventures -C.” And all the times – she couldn’t have just imagined them, there were too many – she’d catch him staring just a fraction longer, with a small smile playing on his lips.

Those were the times when she’d let her guard down, let herself imagine. What would it be like to let him in, to let herself love him? What would it be like to take a chance, to abandon her fears and leap freely into the unknown?

It didn’t matter, anyway. Because the more these feelings took root in her heart, the more she felt and fretted at the weight of the year ahead. With Riverdale getting the green light for a full season after a successful pilot, they were going to be filming full-time as co-workers. This was her big break; this was his return to the spotlight. There was a lot at stake for both of them, and there simply was no room for this foolishness. She couldn’t risk it. She was just going to have to shut it down and get over it somehow.

For herself. And for him, too.

…

For dinner, Debby had somehow managed to concoct a delicious compromise between her healthy eating habits and Lili’s more decidedly low-brow tastes (“Fish tacos!” Lili had exclaimed. “Deb, this is like if you and I got married and had taco babies”). The night was fun and light, and Lili found that she was enjoying herself more than she had all week.

That was until they heard the front door open and a large bag dropping onto the floor.

“Hey, I was gonna yell, ‘anyone home’, but I think the answer’s fairly obvious.”

Cole made his way into the dining room and they all burst into surprised elation.

Except Lili. She felt like throwing up. Well, fuck. She’d been studiously avoiding him – his texts, his calls, his social media – and now there was barely half a room between them. Right before he left, she had sworn to herself that she couldn’t do this anymore, this complicated dance of intense closeness and uncertain labels that only she seemed to be aware of. So she decided that she was going to use his absence productively, to take some space away from him. Out of sight, out of mind, she reasoned. And hopefully out of heart. The first few days were pure torture, but after managing to keep herself busy and out of the house, she was doing well.

Not anymore. Now, seeing his face, his shirt rumpled from travel, she was falling apart.

Debby got up and gave him a quick hug before looking for an extra plate. “Cole Mitchell. I thought you weren’t gonna be home until Friday?”

“Yeah, shoot wrapped up early. We got most of what we wanted on the first day, and one of the models who was scheduled for a later day managed to free up some time.” He looked around the room and spotted her. His face registered shock, and her heart ached as she watched him trying to contain it. “Hey, Lili.”

Fuck. He knew. Of course he knew she was avoiding him. She heard it in those two words, the measured casualness of his voice, the way he said her full name – Lili – unlike everyone else who shortened or lengthened it to Lils or Lilipad or Lilibeth. And fuck him because he just knew how to play it, how to say those two words so that she’d pay attention to what he was trying to say. Hey, you. Where’ve you been?

“Hey, Cole.”

The room tensed momentarily as everyone caught on to the odd coldness between the two. This was, after all, Cole and Lili. Cole, who knew exactly how she took her coffee. Lili, who’d freely walk into Cole’s bedroom to drag his blanket off his bed whenever she was cold.

Debby cut through the awkwardness. “Uh, Cole, you wanted dinner, right?”

“Yep.” After another significant look, Cole made his way into the kitchen. Lili wanted to sink into the floor. When he came back with his plate, he sat well away from her and started a conversation with someone else. She wanted to leave, but she knew that that was only going to attract attention after their little moment. So she resolved to stay and grit her teeth through it, figuring she’d make her escape once everyone left.

She really should’ve known. She should’ve predicted that Cole knew her too well, was far too ingenious to just let her go. They had already started putting everything away when he piped up. “I feel like watching a movie tonight, guys,” he said. “Anyone up for a Baz Luhrmann movie marathon? Strictly Ballroom? Romeo and Juliet?” He caught her eye. “Moulin Rouge?”

You little shit. She wanted to throttle him. Not only did he know it was her favourite film, he knew that Debby knew it, too. And there was no way she was going to get the opportunity to beg off the night without seeming rude.

Debby lit up. “Oh my god, yes. We haven’t done that in ages. Lil! Weren’t you saying you hadn’t seen that in months?”

Lili looked wearily at Cole. He looked right back at her, a shit-eating grin on his face. I win. She couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter. He did, too.

“Fine,” she said, settling into the couch. “But we’re skipping Strictly Ballroom and getting straight into some classic old-school DiCaprio.”

Cole settled right next to her. With his forelock falling carelessly across his face, a roguish look in his eyes, of course he had to be the very image of Leo himself. Calm down.

He smiled. Her heart stuttered. “Fine by me.”

…

Lili waited for Cole to snark her about ghosting him. He didn’t. If anything, he seemed determinedly normal, whispering random commentary throughout the movie that made her laugh. She wanted to be annoyed. After all, it had taken considerable effort to ignore him all week. But being with him again - talking to him, trading barbs and banter - was like crawling toward sunlight after languishing in the dark.

After Romeo and Juliet finished, Debby’s friends decided to call it a night. Lili got up and stretched. Cole smiled lazily up at her. “Hey, you,” he said. There was something strange about him.

“Hey, yourself,” Lili replied. “You’re in a funny mood.”

“Yeah? What mood am I in?”

“I don’t know, you’re just being weird.”

Cole smirked in reply and shrugged. “You’re staying for Moulin Rouge, right?”

Lili hesitated. She was starting to feel a little tired. “I… don’t know.”

“Oh, come oooonnn. I’m a little jetlagged and buzzed and could probably do with some company, to be honest.”

“You have Debby.”

“Yeah, but Debby’s boring.”

Debby poked her head in from the kitchen. “I heard that!”

“I meant for you to!” Cole quickly ducked as Debby threw a bag of chips at him, then turned to Lili. “See what I have to put up with? You have to stay. Please.”

“Just stay, Lil!” Debby called out. “I’ll whip up some fresh guac for the chips and bring out some chocolate as well.”

Lili sighed and turned to Cole. “Can you at least promise to drive me home if I get too sleepy?”

“I promise.”

What choice did she have? This was Moulin Rouge and Cole. “Alright, you big baby,” she said, laughing at his puppy dog eyes. “I’ll stay.”

…

Moulin Rouge was Lili’s favourite movie and an absolute assault on the sense, but it didn’t take long for her to feel drowsy. She took advantage of all the snacks Debby had laid out in the living room in an attempt to keep herself awake, but all the sugar was just causing her to crash. She needed to lie down.

“Cole?”

“Mmm?”

“I feel sleepy.”

Cole nodded and shifted down the couch to give her space to stretch out. She settled into her new position, tucking her feet under her so he could have some space.

But he gently resisted that, propping her feet on his lap. She would have protested, insisting that he didn’t have to, but soon he was tracing lazy circles on her ankle with his thumb, and she did not have the energy to fight how good it felt, or overthink whatever the hell it meant.

Soon Debby got up from her spot on the floor and announced that she was going to bed. She turned to Cole. “Can you please turn off the lights? And make sure Lils gets home.” He nodded. She and Lili bid each other a sleepy good night, and she retreated to her bedroom.

Cole and Lili stayed still on the couch as the movie kept playing. Lili had no idea what they were watching anymore - she was fighting her sleep, but more than that, she was fully aware that she and Cole were alone together for the first time in weeks. Which she was usually comfortable with. Tonight, however, something unspoken hung in the air between them.

Suddenly, he got up and walked off in the direction of his room. She was briefly startled, until he came back into the living room holding his dark blue plaid blanket, which he’d dragged off his bed. “Here,” he said, throwing it over to her. “I knew you were approximately thirty seconds from whining about freezing your ass off.”

She laughed as he sat back down on the couch. “Oh yeah? And I do this regularly now, do I?”

“Yep. You’ve also made me watch this musical a thousand times, AND” - he covered her mouth with his hand as she started to interrupt - “you’re going to correct me and say, ‘Cole, don’t be a peasant, it’s a jukebox musical, not a musical, and yes there’s a difference.’”

“There IS a difference. And now you know, so I’ve taught you well, young Padawan.” She pulled the blanket over her body and closed her eyes. “What else do I do?” she asked, yawning.

He looked at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, as if to measure what he was about to say next. “You go to Starbucks and always get a size too big, and make me drink the rest of whatever sugary confection you’ve ordered that day. Your favourite VSCO filter is C3, even though it’s obviously trash. Your favourite shirts are all white, despite the fact that you always spill something on yourself - case in point, the salsa on your top tonight.”

“Hey, how did you –”

“Also, you suck at driving my Jeep –”

“I can SO drive your Jeep.”

“–you suck at driving my Jeep, no matter how many times I’ve walked you through it.” He laughed, and his gaze softened. “You buy a new notebook every other week because you write prodigiously. You buy yourself flowers every Friday and never make a big deal out of it. And… you can sleep pretty much anywhere, but once your hand touches your cheek, I know that you’re off and definitely dreaming.”

She looked back at him and smiled, already half-asleep. “Nice work. Since when did you know so much about me, Mr. Sprouse?”

He only smiled in reply, obviously proud of himself. She closed her eyes as his hand settled on hers. I can fall asleep like this forever.

Sleep began to overtake her, but not before she felt a slight puff of air against her leg as Cole suddenly lifted the blanket. He slipped his lithe, sinewy frame behind her, his strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist. She froze. She could feel the length of his body against hers and it was slowly obliterating every reasonable thought in her system.

“Cole?”

“Mmm?”

“Are we doing this?”

He nuzzled his face into her hair, his breath warm against her neck. She felt his mouth turn up into a grin. “Sure. Fuck it. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Every ounce of logic in her body screamed against it. If she was smart, she’d get up and drive herself home. Or demand that they actually talk about this.

But as his hand found the skin under her shirt and settled on her waist, she decided she was with Cole on this one; fuck it.

We’ll figure it out tomorrow.

…

And now tomorrow was today.

Lili lay still on the couch, wanting to smack herself for being so reckless. For letting Cole get to her so easily. He had a knack for wearing down her defenses, but she’d had enough.

She felt him stir against her. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice low in her ear. “Did you sleep okay?”

She had to keep a clear head. She had to. “I slept… fine,” she replied, keeping her tone flat and even.

“Good.” Cole stretched his arms above him. She silently berated herself for missing the warmth of his hands on her bare skin. “What do you want to do today?”

I want to stay here with you.

I want to run away from you.

Lili sighed, exasperated. She sat up and faced him. “Seriously? ‘What do I want to do today’? My god. I don’t know, Cole. Maybe figure out what the hell we’re doing here?”

Cole’s eyes flew open in confusion. He sat up to face her. “What?”

“You heard me. Don’t pretend this is normal for us. I just…” She paused and pinched the bridge of her nose to stop herself from tearing up. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Cole looked at her steadily. “Do what, Lili?”

She waved her hand frantically between them. “THIS! You, and me, and this indefinable whatever that we’ve been carrying on for months now.”

“‘Indefinable?’ What’s there to define?!”

“Everything!” Lili’s voice caught at that, and her eyes welled up. “The hanging out. The late night phone calls. The constant texts. The random presents. And on top of that, last night and this morning and the fucking spooning. All of that, Cole!”

His eyes stayed on her, his silence willing her to go on.

“I just… I need to know because I need to get away from it. It’s so fucking complicated, Cole. We can’t keep doing this, not when we’re about to work together, and see each other everyday, and god, I like you too much to screw this up. I have no idea where you are, or how you feel about me – “

“Lili.” Cole grabbed her wrists and pulled her close. “Are you… seriously… that ignorant?”

She went still. His eyes searched her, challenging her to respond. She felt naked under his gaze. She knew that every fibre in her being was about to give in to everything she had fought for so long. But could she really allow herself to? She shut her eyes against his stare, attempting to make a last-ditch effort at resistance.

But the tide had turned, and he was already well ahead of her. Because he had already moved in on her, his lips finding her cheek, grazing her cheekbone lightly and leaving every inch undone in their wake. The damp, fervent heat of his breath made her tremble. Slowly, one of his hands released her wrists and moved up to the collar on her shirt, fisting the thin cotton, pulling her closer to him. His lips worked their way down to her sharp jawline, planting a trail of small kisses that ended at the corner of her mouth. He pulled away and looked at her, and the hunger in his eyes took her breath away.

Then he crashed on her like lightning, his mouth feverish-hot and full of need. One hand slid into her hair, making a snarled mess, the other pulling at her waist, bringing her deeper into their kiss. She tasted smoke, felt thunder churning inside of her. She couldn’t help herself - she lifted her fingers to touch his lips as he brazenly explored hers. Just to check. Just to make sure this was real.

And in brief moments of lucidness, between being kissed into oblivion, she knew. That this would be her undoing. That this was creating a need in her that she never knew existed. That if things did happen later on between her and Cole, and if things went bad, that she would do everything in her power to be kissed like this again.

At last he broke away. As she caught her breath, his thumb lingered on her mouth. She opened her eyes and met his, and she couldn’t help it - she laughed. He made a face at her.

“You’re laughing?”

“No. I mean, yes. Not at this. With this, if that makes sense.” Her mind was still reeling, and she could barely explain herself. Later that night, she would recognize that it was pure joy that had spilled out of her; that it reminded her of running downhill, of riding a rollercoaster, of splashing madly into a sun-dappled ocean.

He took her hands and wrapped his fingers around them. “All this time… you never knew?”

“You never said anything, Cole.”

“Lili, you know that I did. Maybe not with words, but I did. I thought you’d have that figured out. I mean… I don’t just introduce Dylan to anyone, you know. He’s usually locked away in a basement. It takes a lot of effort getting him out.”

Lili laughed. And was relieved to realize that this still happened - that they could still joke and banter like they used to.

“But… this past week made me figure that maybe you weren’t getting that.”

“You noticed I was ignoring you?”

“Noticed? You were killing me, Lili.”

She felt guilty. Tentatively, she leaned forward and kissed him as a way of apology. It caught him by surprise, and he lingered over the kiss longer than she had meant for it to last, tugging at her bottom lip before letting go. Over the next few days, she would lose count of how many kisses they’d trade, but in that moment she took note that this was only their second kiss, and already it felt natural to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. And, you know, feel free to apologise again, and soon.” He grinned at her.

“So… can I ask? Why didn’t you just come out and tell me all this before it got tense and weird and complicated?

“Well… one, because I thought you knew. I mean, shit, are you even aware that my nickname around this house is Captain Obvious? It’s actually embarrassing.” Lili smiled at that. “And two, because I really was in no rush to define what we were. I mean, why would I need to name it when it was already so fucking good, you know? I didn’t want to jinx it. I’m sorry, that sounds immature, right?”

“No,” Lili conceded. “But I guess for me it would’ve put some parameters on what I was supposed to feel, what I was supposed to do. Because you came out of nowhere, Cole. Like… a cat. A cat getting hit by a car.”

He burst out laughing. “That is the worst comparison. You suck at this.”

“I’m sorry! But it’s true.” She laughed, and looked down at her hands, still enclosed in his. “So… what now?”

“Now?” He shrugged. “I don’t know, you wanna go out for breakfast?”

“Cole.” She levelled a stare at him. “I’m serious.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Lili. What are you really asking here? Are you really asking about now, or tomorrow?”

“Can I ask about both?”

“Sure. Here’s my answer to now. I’m honestly crazy about you.” With that, he pulled her in until she was sitting on his lap, and buried his face into her neck, his mouth forming words on her skin. “Every time I’m with you, I can’t decide whether I feel brave, or reckless, or vulnerable, or exposed. More likely all of them, all at the same time.”

She smiled, and turned her towards him so that their foreheads were touching. “And tomorrow?”

“If you’re asking me what the next few months will look like, I… really don’t know.” She nodded and pulled back, a little deflated. It was a fair and honest answer, but it left her feeling uncertain. He noticed her disappointment, and planted a kiss on her bared shoulder. “But tomorrow? You and I have that. I can promise you that.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him, traced his dimple lightly with her finger. Tomorrow. Maybe she could live with that for now. Maybe in the face of everything that was about to happen to them - the avalanche of Riverdale and everything that came with it - that small promise was enough.

She just needed to know one more thing. “Cole? Can you promise me something else?”

“Shoot.”

“Can you promise me…” her voice trailed off, and suddenly she felt shy. “Can you promise me that you’ll kiss me again? Tomorrow?”

He arched an eyebrow in surprise, and smirked at her. “Tell you what,” he said. “How about we bring tomorrow forward“ - he leaned in to plant kisses on her chin, her cheeks, her neck - “and figure it out as we go along?”

But as he was teasing her, she was already lost, obliterated - this time, it was her pulling him in. And as he returned her kiss with equal passion, she knew with absolute certainty that this was only the beginning. That they’d be here again many times over. That the future may be unsure, but at least, for now, what they had was real and raw and breathtaking.

Tomorrow was already beckoning.

[worksofphiction]

prompt; dnp are on vacation in some remote mountain area etc when dan gets a sharp pain in his side, phil has driving related PTSD but thinks he can pull through for dan and drives quickly to the hospital thats far away nervous,anxious and in an adrenaline rush. Turns out it was something minor and dan is given some pain medication etc so when his worryabout d is gone phil basically has a panic attack and passes out. dan freaks out but learns later what happened (angst hurt/comfort fluff?)

Vacations, Hypochondriacs and a Little Bit of PTSD

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Neither Dan or Phil saw this weekend as one to worry about. Dan was a great driver, even though he never really got a chance to show it, and when he asked their good friend Cat to borrow her car for a few days after Vidcon, of course, she trusted him with the keys.Genre: Fluff, Little bit o’AngstWord Count: 5,008Reading Time: 00:18:46Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

Three things that should never go together are vacations, hypochondriacs and a little bit of PTSD.

Neither Dan or Phil saw this weekend as one to worry about. Dan was a great driver, even though he never really got a chance to show it, and when he asked their good friend Cat to borrow her car for a few days after Vidcon, of course, she trusted him with the keys. They figured that while they were in America, they could drive to some log cabin in the woods and have an overdue romantic getaway. The type they couldn’t get in the UK. Not authentically, anyway. The last time they were in America, they resided in Florida and although the beaches were nice, they were craving a little alone time in the woods. You know, the kind of alone time that landed them miles away from civilization.

After only a few minutes of searching online, they stumbled upon a quiet resort that fit all of their needs. It was at least 30 miles away from anything close to a city and the cabin they selected overlooked a lake. Dan nearly jumped with joy when he found out that he might be able to take some super aesthetic photos while relaxing by the water. And Phil, the master photographer he was, could snap a photo of Dan looking on fleek as he napped on the dock.

The most appealing part of this trip was that they would be completely isolated from the crazy Vidcon fans and other possible overlookers. That meant that Dan and Phil could fuck outside if they really wanted to and nobody would see them. Dan took a mental note and smirked when Phil told him they had a hammock in the backyard. This trip was certainly going to be worth it.

The morning they left Vidcon was a tough one. The tricky thing about living overseas is that you never get to see your American friends. When Dan and Phil were finally able to relax on that last night, their friends threw the usual afterparty at some rando’s place, and naturally, Dan and Phil hadto attend. Neither expected to get sloshed but when people are shoving drinks in your hand left and right, it’s hard not to accept. Phil managed to stay on top of his drink count but Dan was gone after number 5. He took shots with Tyler Oakley, managed to chug a beer with Mamrie Hart and definitely ate some sort of gummy bear that wasn’t a gummy bear with Connor Franta. He had a blast and as usual, Phil had to drag him home and put him to bed after a total of probably 16 drinks. Phil never minded doing this. He always told Dan that he was lucky “he’s a cute drunk.” But really, Phil loved every part of Dan. Even the Dan that was petting Phil’s nose on the taxi ride home, insisting that Phil looked prettier than any girl at that party. Phil just laughed and rolled him into bed after stripping them both down.

“You know we have to get up early, My Dear,” Phil said softly, helping the boy find a comfortable spot in his arms. Dan rolled his eyes and licked his lips, looking up at Phil with a drunken stare.

“I know. If I’m lucky, you’ll drive for me so I can go back to sleep,” Dan joked. Phil laughed a little but he didn’t respond. Phil wasn’t really a driver. He just barely passed the driver’s test back in secondary school and he hadn’t been behind the wheel since he kind of sort of crashed his dad’s car. It was an accident but Phil swore to never drive if he didn’t have to. He had almost killed himself and he was terrified of putting himself or the love of his life in danger like that. Dan had agreed days ago that he would do the three-hour drive to the resort so that Phil wouldn’t have to worry about it. Dan liked driving, or so he said, and because he never got to do it, he happily volunteered. Phil cleared his throat and shook his head. Dan was drunk. He would just clarify in the morning. There was no need to worry about it.

Packing their suitcases went slowly after getting themselves up that morning. Dan wore his sunglasses as he insisted that the window light was too bright. Even after Phil closed the blinds.

“Hey, pass me the keys. I’ll go pack the car,” Dan said, his voice nearly a whisper. He looked like he regretted his drink choices from the night before. Phil knew he wasn’t saying anything because he knew Phil would make fun of him. Phil pushed his worries about Dan aside and hesitated before tossing the boy the keychain. “I think we can do it in one trip, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Phil glanced around the hotel room, noticing that once everything was packed, they really only had a few things.

“I’ll go start the car. We better get a move on. I want to be in the woods already.” Dan turned and left the room slowly, wincing as the door let out a high pitched squeak. But when he stepped out and the door closed behind him, Phil let out a sigh of relief. Dan would start the car, Dan would drive, and Phil wouldn’t kill them both.

He mozied his way down to the car, which Dan had kindly brought up to the front of the building. Phil had just given their room keys to the front desk and he was ready to get going. He opened the door to the passenger seat and noticed that Dan looked a lot happier. Maybe he was still hungover, but it seemed that he felt better to be behind the wheel.

“Come on, Slow Poke! The mountains are calling us!” Dan exclaimed, his hand nearly hitting the horn as he slammed it on the wheel. Phil just rolled his eyes and fastened his seat belt as he turned to Dan.

“Are you sure about this? You haven’t driven in a while, are you gonna-”

“Oh, hush. It’s like riding a bike. You never forget how to drive,” Dan said confidently as he took the car from park and began inching forward in the line of cars up front. “Put on some tunes, would ya? Cat said the Aux chord is in this thingy.”

Dan gestured to the glove compartment near Phil’s knees and he leaned forward to fish the black chord out. He plugged it into the little hole it belonged to and queued up some Muse for the long drive.

-

They arrived at their resort halfway through a Kanye album and Phil was secretly thanking the universe for ending it so early. He loved that Dan loved Kanye, but it wasn’t his favorite. He had promised Dan that he would stay awake the whole drive and he did, but nothing made him want to pass out more than an entire album of Kanye West.

“Oh my God!” Dan parked the car and immediately leaped out, looking at the adorable little two person cabin that sat before them. The drive to this place was gravel roads for two miles and this was the only house in sight. It was amazing. The woods were thick and the lake was beautiful. Phil’s intention was to admire the beautiful view, but instead, he admired his boyfriend’s look of wonder as he took in the sight of their home for two days. “Phil, this is exactly what I wanted!”

“Well, that’s good. Because if it wasn’t, we’d be here enjoying exactly what you didn’t want,” he said snarkily. It was only after Dan flashed him a look that Phil realized he hadn’t actually kissed his boyfriend that morning. He checked his phone for the time and he noticed that there was very little service in their area. It was still before 12:00, so he could still get his good morning kiss. He waddled over to Dan with his suitcase in hand, dropping it for the surprised boy in front of him. “It looks like the service here is some crap. I guess we’ll have to find something better to do with our time than scroll through memes, huh?”

Phil was teasing and Dan loved it but of course, he acted offended, shoving Phil a little, only to get grabbed even tighter. Phil pressed his lips to Dan and his defenses fell, kissing Phil back with the passion he craved.

They lost track of time as they kissed in the driveway and it was only when Dan sneezed that they remembered where they were.

“How about we give ourselves the grand tour?” Phil offered his hand to Dan who took it gladly and they dragged their suitcases inside the home.

-

After a little bit of lounging and a little bit of hammock sex, they were sitting on the dock watching the sunset and dipping their feet into the water below. Their long legs were the perfect length for their toes to reach and they felt like they were sitting in a romance movie. Phil almost said something when Dan interrupted his cheesy thought with a wince.

“Dan, are you okay?” Phil’s voice raised an octave as he turned immediately to the boy who wore a sour expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Dan clutched his side and whimpered a little, face planting into Phil’s shoulder.

“Dan!” Phil squeaked, his heart rate increasing tenfold. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

“My-ow…” Dan struggled with his words. “My side. It really fucking-”

His own pain cut off his sentence, but that was enough for Phil. His inner hypochondriac was suddenly screaming at him and he was in no position to wait it out. Phil stood up and grabbed Dan’s shoulders, pulling him up too.

“How much does it hurt? 1-10?” Phil asked, his voice rushed and his hand beginning to shake.

“Like uh…uh…” Dan clutched his side and whimpered. “Like a 9.”

“Jesus, Dan! What did you do?”

“I don’t know!?” Dan shot back, clearly unable to focus on anything but the sharp pain in his side. Phil swallowed a lump in his throat that arrived with the feeling that this was going to end badly. He tried his hardest to remember everything they had done that day. Aside from their frolicking in the hammock, they had done nothing strenuous. But his brain was shutting down and he couldn’t focus on anything but his need to help Dan. “I need…I need to get to the…ow!”

Phil knew what Dan was asking. And he knew that Dan was serious. Dan’s pain tolerance was pretty high. Phil knew this first hand. He had spent nearly nine years with this man and there had only been a few moments where Dan insisted on getting Emergency Care. Hell, the boy had nearly blinded himself before their flight to Australia and they got on the fucking plane anyway. Dan needed to be seen and he needed to be seen now.

Phil cursed under is breath, trying to make a plan. He hobbled Dan as fast as he could back to their cabin and placed him gently on the couch where he curled up and whimpered. He clutched his side and tried his hardest to hold in tears, unsuccessfully wiping the rogue ones from his cheeks. Phil didn’t want to look at him because seeing his boyfriend in pain was one of his worst nightmares, but he didn’t want to look away because the second he did, something could happen. Phil wouldn’t be having that.

He fumbled for his phone with one hand as he rubbed circles into Dan’s back, attempting to call 999, but when his service bars blinked at him signaling there was no cell reception, his brain told him that instead of a romance movie, this was now a horror film.

“Dan…there’s no…there’s no reception! I can’t call an ambulance.” Phil’s voice shook as he tried to stay calm. What a fucking nightmare. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

Dan winced when he heard that there was no chance of an ambulance. He raised his one arm and pointed at the table.

“Keys. There. You gotta-” His voice was coming out in breaths and Phil’s entire face went pale when he realized what Dan was asking.

Phil was going to have to drive about 35 miles to the nearest Urgent Care.

There was no fucking way.

“Dan…I can’t…I don’t know if I can…” Phil stumbled, his hands shaking more now. He couldn’t even picture what it would be like to try to drive in this condition. “I can’t drive you. I can’t.”

Dan shifted on the couch so that his tear filled eyes were looking up at Phil.

“Phil…you can.” He winced and took a few deep breaths. “Please. You gotta calm down and you gotta drive me. I really…ow…I really need to-”

He was cut off by a whimper and Phil got to his feet.

Fuck it.

He dived for the keys and helped his boyfriend up, crutching him over to the car. He gently placed him in the backseat where he could lay down across the seats. He slammed the car door shut and he threw himself into the driver’s seat. After starting the car (the easy part), he stilled. He could feel the car vibrating below him and his boyfriend whimpering in the back.

Driving couldn’t be that bad.

He did it in his teen years. Now he was a whole person. He could certainly do it now.

He took a deep breath and swallowed his fear. For Dan Howell.

He pulled the car into reverse and backed out slowly.

Not too bad.

He pushed the car into drive and took it slow. His hands gripped the wheel with more strength than he ever thought he possessed. He stared forward at the gravel road in front of him, cursing the car for only being able to move at a certain speed over these rocks. He wished he could teleport now more than ever, his boyfriend groaning after every little bump.

The hardest part about driving in America was that everything was flipped. He couldn’t focus when all he could think about was how in England, the driver’s seat was on the other side. That and his crying boyfriend in the back. How the hell had Dan driven all this way when everything was backwards? There was just no way.

Phil swore that he blacked out during the drive because soon they were pulling into the hospital parking lot and Phil had managed to safely get the car into a slot.

“Ph-Phil….please, help me get…ow…inside,” Dan whimpered, his hand clutching his side and his eyes nearly closed. If Phil wasn’t in a panicked state, he might admire the way Dan’s lashes fell on his cheeks when he cried. Dan Howell was beautiful, apparently, even when he was in the most pain he’d been in for a while.

Phil did as his boyfriend told him, guiding him into the building and handing him off to a nurse.

That’s when he realized he was in America. The nurse thanked him for bringing him in, but when she walked into the double doors with Dan settled in a wheelchair, she turned and told him to stay put. The two were not married and they weren’t blood-related, so Phil collapsed into a waiting room chair, letting out a breath that he didn’t remember he had been holding.

So much for a couple of romantic days in the woods.

Phil suddenly felt very cold in the face, his arms starting to tingle and his eyes grasping for something to look at. Sadly, he could only stare at the wall ahead of him, black fuzzy edges closing in on the speck he had locked onto. After trying to fight it, he realized it was too much and he let his eyes close and his world pause for a moment.

-

He was being gently nudged awake by a nurse when he finally opened his eyes again. It had felt like an eternity but apparently, it had only been about 40 minutes. The nurse led him back to his beloved who was sitting on a hospital bed, now happily sipping some cranberry juice from a box. His troubles seemed to be solved and his face was no longer scrunched up and wet from his tears.

“Philly!” Dan greeted, his chipper tone almost irritating after everything that had happened before Phil passed out.

“Hi, Love.” His voice was tragically hoarse, stress doing that to him sometimes. Phil walked over to his bedside and greeted the brunette with a kiss, pushing his hair back and placing his lips to his forehead for an extended period of time. The nurse looked a little taken aback and Phil cursed the world for assuming straightness. But that wasn’t a concern right now. Dan was alright and smiling, they had made it to the hospital in one piece and hopefully, the problem was solved for good. “What happened?”

Dan glanced at the nurse who nodded and opened her mouth.

“Well, after talking to Mr. Howell, we found out that he had done a little bit of drinking last night. It seems that without drinking much water, his liver was taking a while to process the alcohol intake. Mr. Howell just needed a few fluids and some time to let it pass. He will be perfectly fine,” She explained, glancing in Dan’s direction. “You should lay off of the alcohol for a few weeks, alright? I assume you don’t do this often?”

Dan shook his head, clearly a tad ashamed that he had taken such poor care of his body that night. Phil also cursed himself inside because he wasn’t keeping a close enough eye on the boy he cared about more than himself.

“So can he come home then?” Phil asked, smiling sympathetically at the boy who was smiling back at him with the smuggest of looks. Phil wished Dan could have seen how difficult it was for Phil to get behind the wheel. He honestly didn’t want to think about it though, so he just looked back at the doctor for his answer.

“Yes, he’s all set. We pumped him with fluids and he should be fine. Just take it easy,” she responded, writing something on the clipboard hanging on the bed. “I’m also prescribing these painkillers that should work beautifully. Make sure you take them every four hours.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Dan saluted, slurping the last of the cranberry juice and crushing the box in his giant hands. Phil helped Dan up and wrapped an arm around his waist for security (both for himself and for Dan), then grabbed the bag of medicine from the nurse’s hands.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Phil said, leading the boy out of the room. He seemed to be walking fine but Phil didn’t want to let go. The closer they got to the parking lot, the more from his drive he remembered.

“Phil, faster! Please! I’m…ow!!” Dan groaned from the backseat, Phil’s knuckles going white. He was navigating them through a forest that seemed to wind every twelve seconds. He hesitantly pressed on the gas pedal and the engine reved, startling him and making him swerve. “Are we almost there?”

“I’m trying, Dan. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he apologized, trying to keep his voice steady. The last thing he wanted was for Dan to think Phil wasn’t going to get him there safely. He wanted so badly to be capable but his heart was beating faster than it ever had.

“Ffffuuuuck,” Dan moaned, his voice cracking and Phil’s stomach dropping. He pushed a little harder on the pedal and held his breath as he took a tight curve. They made it, but the rumble strips screamed at him as he swerved a little.

“Phil! Phil?!” Dan waved his hand in front of his face and Phil was ripped from his terrifying memory. They were now standing next to the car they arrived in and Dan was frowning again. No, Dan. Don’t frown, Phil thought. He just wanted to see him happy. Laughing like this hadn’t happened. Like Phil hadn’t had to drive a multiple pound death machines 35 miles to save his boyfriend. “Phil, are you okay? You look like you just saw a-”

Before Dan could even finish his statement, Phil was falling backward and thank God for Dan because his head didn’t hit the concrete. Instead, Dan’s arms grabbed him and pulled him into his own self, Phil collapsing once more into the terrifying and cold darkness that was his unconscious mind.

-

“Phil!” Dan was kissing his cheek over and over again when Phil reawoke. This time, it didn’t feel like forever. Instead, it felt like only a blink. He couldn’t have been out for long. “Oh thank GOD!”

Dan grabbed him and wrapped his arms around Phil’s nearly shaking body as he kissed the top of his head.

“I was so worried we’d have to go back in there!” Dan joked. “That nurse was giving me shifty eyes.”

Phil usually would hit his boyfriend lightly on the arm for that joke, but Phil just gave a half smile to show his appreciation, only to then turn his face into Dan’s sleeve.

“What the hell was that, Phil? You scared the shit out of me,” Dan admitted, now fully concerned about Phil’s little fainting spell and not his own humor.

“I…I…I’m just tired,” Phil says, suddenly realizing that if he tells Dan what happened, Dan would feel bad. Even though it wasn’t technically his fault to begin with, he would feel bad that he was the cause of Phil’s little panic attack. They had spoken briefly about why Phil didn’t drive, but Phil always just said that it was because he wasn’t good at it or he “couldn’t drive in a straight line.” He never once mentioned the accident he got into and he never really figured he’d have to.

But now, as they sat in the parking lot at the American hospital, he looked into Dan’s eyes and shook his head.

“A lot happened. I’m sorry. Can we just go home?” Phil requested, his heartbeat returning slowly to the normal speed.

Dan looked at him with skeptical eyes, like he didn’t believe Phil at first, but as any good boyfriend would, he figured Phil wouldn’t lie to him and got off the ground to help him up.

“Sure thing. I’ll drive,” Dan said, grabbing the keys from Phil’s pant pocket.

“Are you sure?” Phil asked, smacking himself inside for even suggesting another option. But Dan always came first and he supposed that was the right thing to do. Luckily, Dan nodded and hopped into the driver’s side before they could even talk about it.

The drive back was silent and Phil felt bad. The guilt was eating at him. He should have told Dan. He knew it was wrong of him to pretend everything was alright. Dan wouldn’t judge him and it would probably prevent things like this happening all over again. Next time they’d be more prepared, just in case. He watched the trees go by as a passenger and decided he would tell Dan tonight once they settled in their master bedroom for the night.

-

Teeth were brushed, clothes were shed, a little bit of kissing ensued before Phil was holding Dan still on his chest, tracing little curlycues on his bare shoulder. Dan hummed quietly as they listened to the crickets out the wooden window, soothing both of their minds.

Phil didn’t want to break the silence but without this conversation, Phil’s guilt would eat him alive so he opened his mouth and took a deep breath. Dan seemed to sense he was going to speak, so big brown eyes met blue as he took Dan’s hand.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Phil started, hoping that would take the pressure off the bomb he was about to drop.

“Me too,” Dan admitted, as a smile stretched his cheeks. “Next time you gotta stop me when Tyler drags me anywhere. Tell him I’m allergic to hair dye or something.”

Phil chuckled.

“Okay. Can do.” Phil liked Dan’s humor. It was as if Dan was already trying to make Phil feel better, even though he didn’t know he was feeling off in the first place.

“Thanks for driving today. You honestly saved my ass,” Dan said, genuinely. Phil almost winced but he shut his eyes and nodded.

“Of course.”

“I know you don’t drive often…” Dan started, playing with Phil’s little tuft of chest hair.

“Yeah…” Phil sighed. “About that…”

Dan was silent. He focused on his finger and its movement beneath Phil’s neck.

“I should tell you why I don’t drive.”

“I know why you can’t drive,” Dan huffed, his smile spreading. “Cuz you can’t go in a straight line. Anyone who plays Mario Kart with you would know that, you Spoon.”

Phil laughed gently and ran a hand through Dan’s hair.

“That’s true,” he admitted, not trying to claim he was any good at Mario Kart. He was lucky he even won a handful of times. Especially against Dan Howell. “But there’s another reason.”

Dan looked intrigued now, his brown eyes sparkling more than usual. Maybe it was the subtle moonlight in their perfect little cabin, or maybe Dan Howell was just that perfect.

“When I was a teenager…” Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. Only his family knew about this and even then, it was only his Dad who knew exactly what happened. He didn’t ever talk about it and thinking about it made him shake. Dan needed to know, but Phil was reluctant. He paced himself and continued. “I borrowed my dad’s car to go to the shop. It was for something stupid, I don’t even remember what it was, and I had had my license for a week. My dad handed me the keys and told me that I was finally old enough to run errands for him, just like Martyn did at my age. I was so proud that I could be just like my older brother before he left for Uni, that I practically skipped to the car and started it up.”

Dan’s eyebrows were furrowed and Phil could tell he was confused as to where this was going. But Phil continued because he wasn’t going to stop now that he had begun.

“I was only 6 miles away from home when I saw a rabbit cross the road in front of me. And I had remembered my driving instructor telling me that I should never swerve for an animal unless it was a moose, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t run over the rabbit…” Phil gulped, shaming himself for loving all of Earth’s creatures. “So I swerved, right off the road and into a line of trees. My dashboard cracked and there was glass everywhere. Thank God I wasn’t hurt, nothing but a couple of scrapes, but my dad’s car was a wreck and the insurance people told me I was lucky I hadn’t died…”

Dan’s eyes had shifted from confusion to shock.

“Oh my God…” He blinked a few times. “How have I never heard this story?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…” Phil admitted. “That was the scariest day of my life. I nearly killed myself, Dan.”

Phil didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not on vacation in this sweet little cabin. He was happy.

But that didn’t stop the tear from rolling down his cheek when he pictured his father’s disappointed face. His parents weren’t mad, but they never asked him to drive to the store again - not that Phil really wanted to anyway.

“I just really don’t like driving…” Phil said, his voice practically disappearing into his throat as they came out. Dan looked about ready to cry as well, reaching up and wiping a tear from Phil’s cheek as one threatened to roll down his.

“I’m so sorry you had to do that today,” Dan whispered, the guilt settling in. Phil knew that face when he saw it. Especially on Dan’s gorgeous features.

“It’s okay. Just…” Phil sighed. “No more driving.”

“No more driving,” Dan confirmed, his hand reaching up to pet Phil’s damp cheek. “I’ll drive us back tomorrow night and we’ll pretend none of this happened, alright?”

Phil nodded a little, settling himself into a comfortable position, wrapped in Dan’s arms and legs.

“I love you, Dan,” Phil said softly, his heartbeat thumping where Dan could hear it on his chest.

“I love you too, Philly.” Dan’s sleepy voice always gave Phil the chills, his arms involuntarily tightening around his boyfriend. “I’m so proud of you.”

Phil hadn’t expected to hear that.

“You saved me today, Phil. Thank you.” Dan said as he was falling into a half-sleep state. Phil smiled. It was nice to know that Dan thought these things, even when he wasn’t even paying attention. It didn’t matter that Dan had drunken a little too much or that he had messed with his liver’s chemistry. It didn’t matter that he would have been just fine with a little water in his system. It didn’t matter that Dan’s problem wasn’t even technically an emergency. Dan still claimed that he had saved him, and that was what Phil lived for.

Maybe it was because he was afraid to cause any creature harm, but he would do anything for Dan Howell. Even if that meant confronting his biggest fear. He closed his eyes and listened to his perfectly healthy boyfriend as he drifted off to sleep, thanking the universe that he had saved another creature and lived to tell the tale.

[pseudophan]

Choking On Your Alibi

Rating: M Genre/tags/idk: friends to lovers/getting together, fluff, eventual smut, all the good stuff Word count: 6.3k what the fuck Summary: When Dan had first responded to a stranger’s roommate ad, he figured they’d be like acquaintances living together; simply exchanging pleasantries now and then. However as it happens they had quickly become good friends. But what will happen when Dan walks in on Phil hooking up with another guy?

based on this article referencing a reddit post about a guy who thinks he's homophobic because he doesn't like seeing his roommate with other guys

title from Mr. Brightside because that's where everyone gets their titles tbh

click here to read it on ao3 if that’s more your thing

"There's just one more thing," the man sitting across from him says, looking up from Dan’s application form.

"What is it?"

"Well so I assume it's not gonna be much of an issue for you but I'm uh ... I'm gay?"

"Oh," Dan is a bit taken aback at first, though he recovers fairly quickly, "That's cool," he says, truthfully.

Phil relaxes noticeably in his chair, he'd clearly been worried about Dan’s reaction. “I just thought you should know in case i bring any guys home. Or a guy, rather, I mean I’m not gonna bring a whole group and have like an orgy…”

“Phil-”

“Actually my sex life isn’t that interesting, I might not even bring anyone home but-”

“PHIL,” Dan has to raise his voice to get him to stop rambling. “Relax, it’s alright.”

Phil stops and smiles, “okay, cool. Good. So uh- I’ll see you Thursday then, yeah?”

“See you Thursday.” Dan gets up and walks towards the front door, casting one last glance over at the older guy before walking outside.

He is actually looking forward to living with Phil, he seems pretty cool and in the few conversations they’ve had together so far he’s gotten the impression that their interests are fairly similar.

Yeah, he thinks, this will be good.

Three days later Dan is again stood in the London flat, only this time he’s surrounded by boxes and feels a lot less optimistic. He’s still excited about the new living arrangements, but after a full day of moving, the knowledge that he has to unpack all his stuff makes him regret every life decision he has ever made.

“Do you need some help?” Dan is dragged back to reality by Phil’s voice, sounding rather amused.

“Huh?”

“You look a bit overwhelmed, we could order pizza and then I’ll help you unpack?”

“Phil, I fucking love you,” Dan replies, chuckling, and lifts one of the boxes off the floor. “I’ll start carrying these to my room and then you can order the pizza?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Phil smiles and reaches for his phone.

The pizza arrives after about half an hour, just as they finish unpacking the first box. Phil pays the delivery boy - with his own money as he refused to let Dan spend as much as a penny - and brings the food upstairs, figuring they’d eat as they work.

“So,” Phil says as Dan opens the next box. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?” Dan asks, looking up from the newly opened box.

“Like anything, if we’re gonna be living together I’d like to know more about you.” Phil picks up a plushie from the box and holds it up, “what’s the story behind this?”

Dan laughs and grabs the plushie, placing it on top of his wardrobe. “There’s no story, I won it for my girlfriend in one of those claw crane machine things.”

“That is a story,” Phil says, smiling. “If you won it for your girlfriend then why is it here?”

“She kinda threw it at me as I left her house after we broke up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to be sorry about, it wasn’t the most passionate of relationships. I like the plushie though, so i kept it.”

“Is it like a reminder not to put up with things that don’t make you happy?”

Dan stops, looking up at Phil. “Uh. What?”

“If she threw the plushie at you I’m assuming you were the one who broke it off, and there must have been a reason for that, right?”

“Well, yeah, she cheated on me, but-”

“There you go! Whenever you look at the plushie you’re reminded of a time you did something you maybe didn’t want to, but knew you had to in order to be happy.”

“That’s … a lot deeper than I’ve ever thought about it but I uh. I guess?”

Phil grins, looking very pleased at himself for his analysis of some random teddybear. Dan looks at him and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit odd?”

“All the time,” Phil says and then he giggles , like a little kid, except somehow it doesn’t seem out of place for him. “I usually take it as a compliment.”

A few months pass, and living with Phil couldn’t be better. They have the same taste in TV and films, and although Phil isn’t into all the music Dan listens to, they do have quite a few favourite bands in common.

When Dan had first responded to a stranger’s roommate ad, he figured they’d be more like acquaintances living together; making their own dinner and exchanging pleasantries now and then. However as it happens they had quickly become good friends, and more often than not they eat their meals together.

On this particular day, Phil had woken him up to make pancakes because ‘it’s Saturday and you can’t have Saturday without pancakes!’

So here they are, in the kitchen making pancakes. Except, they’re not really making pancakes as much as thoroughly destroying the room. The batter has found its way out of the bowl and all over the counter. Long story short, Phil had attempted to use an electric mixer and it didn’t go well.

“You really suck at this cooking thing,” Dan says, laughing at Phil’s defeated expression.

“And you haven’t exactly been much help,” Phil replies. “Besides, it’s the thought that counts and all that.”

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

Then, without warning, Phil lifts the mixer from the bowl again and presses the on button, causing a shower of batter to rain over Dan.

“Oh, my God, Phil!” Dan quickly dips his finger into the batter and smears it on Phil’s cheek in revenge.

“Jokes on you, now I look like I’m wearing some epic war paint,” Phil says, before he coats his entire hand in batter and playfully smacks Dan’s ass.

“Messing up my jeans is a low blow!” Dan says, after the initial shock.

Phil just shrugs. “What can I say, it’s a good ass.”

Dan laughs. They do this a lot, jokingly flirt with each other. If he’s being honest Dan kind of loves it. It’s nothing serious, Phil knows he’s straight, and the way he flirts is clearly just banter, but it gives Dan an odd sense of comfort to be close enough to somebody that they can joke around without it being weird.

All in all this roommate thing is working out quite nicely. But of course, because the universe seems to hate him, something has to go wrong sooner or later.

One day when Dan comes home from the gym - after exercising, obviously, not just quickly signing a year long membership he’ll probably never use before getting intimidated by the very buff guys lifting weights who could all probably kill dan with one finger, thus prompting him to postpone his dream of getting ripped and instead leaving as soon as possible - he finds Phil on the sofa in their lounge. Horizontal. With another man.

Dan freezes in the doorway. He knows he should leave, or at least say something to let them know he’s here, but his legs are glued to the floor and his tongue has stopped working. Phil and the guy are heavily making out, neither of them are wearing shirts and the stranger is slowly moving his hands over Phil’s chest. Suddenly, Phil lets out a loud moan, and evidently that’s what Dan needed to wake up from his frozen state. He lets out a surprised ‘oh!’ and as much as he wish they hadn’t, both Phil and the guy hear him.

“Um,” Dan begins as he steps back from the door, frantically searching for words.

“Dan! I didn’t think you’d be home yet.”

“I’m so sorry, I- I’m just gonna, um- go.” Dan quickly walks towards his room and closes the door behind him, leaving a very flustered Phil on the couch.

Alone in his room, Dan paces back and forth. What the fuck just happened? It’s not so much the fact that he walked in on Phil with a guy, it’s how it made him feel. He feels sick. Like he might throw up at any moment. Why? He’s walked in on his parents before, and though that experience ranks as one of his top 10 least pleasant moments it didn’t make him feel physically ill. Then, a thought strikes him. Is it because Phil was with a guy ?

Dan can’t recall ever having had anything against gay people, and though he was surprised when Phil said he was gay he never thought anything negative of it. However as he unwillingly replays the scene he’d just witnessed, he can’t help but feel highly uncomfortable by it, and if it’s not the idea of walking in on someone itself then what else can it be?

Confused, and frankly quite disappointed in himself, he goes to bed and falls into an uneasy sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s due to a knock on his bedroom door. Unsurprisingly when the door opens it’s Phil, looking rather embarrassed.

“Hey… Did i wake you?”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. What’s up?” Dan knows what’s up, of course he does, but he asks anyway.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for last night, I really thought you’d be gone longer.”

“It’s fine,” Dan says.

It isn’t.

“Are you sure?”

No.

“Well I wasn’t exactly expecting to walk in on you getting down and dirty so I was a bit surprised, but really - it’s okay.”

Lies.

Phil doesn’t seem convinced, but he lets it slide and leaves the room, probably to eat breakfast.

Dan tries to go back to sleep but soon realises it’s not gonna happen and gets out of bed. He doesn’t particularly want to have breakfast with Phil, in fear of having to continue the conversation about last night’s awkward encounter, and so he decides to wait until he’s certain Phil is done in the kitchen. Unfortunately this also gives him an unwanted opportunity to ponder his feelings about what happened. Why is he making such a big deal out of this? He’s had gay friends before. Well, one gay friend… Okay he had a gay classmate who he occasionally talked to, but he’d never had any issues with him.

But you never saw that guy with a boyfriend an unwanted voice in his head reasons.

“That’s irrelevant!” Dan exclaims to the empty room, before silently cursing himself and hoping Phil didn’t hear his outburst.

You’re being ridiculous, he thinks to himself, careful not to speak out loud this time to save himself from further embarrassment. If he really does have a problem with Phil being gay, he’ll just have to get the fuck over it.

And he does.

That is, he thinks he has. Until the next time he encounters one of Phil’s dates.

When Phil said his sex life isn’t that interesting he wasn’t lying, it takes almost two months before Dan once again wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole. This time he comes home from a weekend spent in Wokingham with his family just as a tall, blonde guy he’s never seen before is about to leave.

“Oh, hello!” The stranger smiles and holds out his hand, seemingly for Dan to shake. “I’m Nathan.”

Dan ignores the hand. He’s too busy staring at the telling bruises on Nathan’s neck, unable to keep his mind from imagining how they got there. After about a minute of awkward silence, Phil walks out into the hall, typing something on his phone and therefore not noticing Dan’s presence right away.

“So I’ll call you, yeah? I just saved your-” Phil looks up, finally spotting his roommate. “Dan! Welcome back, did you have a good weekend?”

Dan shrugs.

“Uh, so this is Nathan,” Phil begins, though apparently he’s struggling to figure out what to say next because what follows is just another awkward silence. Incidentally this is when Dan decides to finally chime in.

“So i hear,” he says, not meeting his friend’s eyes. He knows that he’s being an asshole, but the second he walked through the door and realised what Phil had been up to in his absence something just snapped. That was all it took for the time and effort he’d spent convincing himself he was perfectly okay with Phil’s love life to lose its worth. Phil furrows his brows and Dan knows he’s about to get a well deserved berating.

“Right, well, I’m gonna uh...I’ll just go.” Nathan doesn’t wait for a response and is out the door before either of them can say a word. The second the door slams, Phil takes a step towards Dan, his expression dangerously similar to that of someone about to commit murder.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t-” Dan begins, but Phil interrupts him.

“Don’t you dare say that you don’t know! If you’re gonna be a dick, at least pretend to have a reason for it.”

“I just...” Dan tries again, but this time he trails off by himself. I just feel bad because the very thought of you hooking up with a guy makes me feel uncomfortable and frankly downright disgusted, he thinks to himself, inwardly shuddering at how horrible it sounds.

“You just what?” Phil pushes. And then, as if he’s read Dan’s mind he asks “Do you have a problem with me sleeping with other guys?”

Fuck.

“What? Of course not, I don’t give a shit who you hook up with!” Dan doesn’t mean for it to come out that harshly, and it does nothing to calm Phil down. If anything it makes him even more upset, Dan notices, slightly confused at this development.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go stay with Nathan,” Phil says and grabs his jacket, walking past Dan who’s still stood in the middle of the room.

“But I got back early to go to the cinema tonight because you wanted to!”

“Yeah, well, now you won’t have to.” Phil walks past him and opens the door. “Just to be clear,” he says, his back turned, “you’ll be okay if I sleep with him as long as it’s not here?”

Dan tries his best to sound nonchalant when he replies, “It’s none of my business what you do elsewhere, knock yourself out.”

The door slams. Dan feels sick.

He fucked up, God he fucked up. There was absolutely no valid reason for him to be rude to Phil, not to mention poor Nathan, and yet…

Several hours pass and Phil doesn’t return. I guess he was serious about staying the night with Nathan then, Dan thinks, and as soon as he does that familiar nauseous feeling returns. He can’t help but picture the two of them in bed together, naked and sweaty, moans filling the air. Already the first hour he tried drowning his sorrows in alcohol, but all he could find in the flat was a quarter bottle of wine which he drank in one go with very limited effects.

Usually if he doesn’t know what to do he’ll just google it, but something tells him the search results for ‘help i’m a homophobe’ may not be particularly helpful. An obvious solution would be to talk to somebody, but if he’s being honest the entire thing is just really embarrassing. Who does he know that has experience in awkward topics and who won’t judge him for it?

Then it hits him. Louise.

Dan had met Louise during his limited time at uni, and though they don’t meet up as often as they used to she’s still one of his best friends.

She picks up on the second ring, clearly not any more busy than Dan,

“S’up. This is Henry from last night, did I leave my pants at your house?” he opens in the deepest voice he can possibly manage.

“You know, you should probably block your number before attempting to prank call people,” Louise laughs into the phone. “And his name was George, if you must know.”

“No way! Louise has a lovelife, who would’ve thought.”

“Shut up, Howell. Why are you calling, anyway? Shouldn’t you be watching movies with your new BFF?” “Hey, you know it’s not like that-” Dan begins, but Louise laughs and interrupts him.  

“Oh relax, I’m perfectly content being replaced by your cute roommate.”

“Cute?”

“Don’t even pretend like you haven’t noticed.”

Dan rolls his eyes, even though he’s aware Louise can’t actually see him.

“Speaking of, how is Phil?” She continues before Dan can conjure up an appropriate response.

“Well, uh, that’s kinda what I’m calling about-” he begins, hesitating.

“...Yes?” Louise says after several seconds of silence.

“Promise you won’t judge?”

“I will promise no such thing,” she replies, but he can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s joking.

“Alright, here it goes-”

He tells her everything, about how great living with Phil was in the beginning - although she’d already heard that part a million times before - and then how weird it had gotten lately. He talks about how he walked in on Phil with that stranger a couple of months ago, then Nathan and how rude he’d been to him.

“-and then I told Phil I don’t give a fuck who he sleeps with outside of our flat, but that just made him even more upset! He didn’t even say goodbye, just slammed the door and left. That was nearly four hours ago and he doesn’t seem to be coming home any time soon so I guess he really is staying with Nathan or something.” He stops, finally, and takes a deep breath. He must have been rambling for ages.

He’s expecting Louise to say something, but all he hears is silence.

“Hello?”

He hears a sigh on the other end. Then, “you really are an idiot, Dan Howell.”

“You weren’t supposed to judge!” He says, but she ignores him.

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t like Phil being intimate with other guys, and your natural deduction is that you’re homophobic?”

Dan hesitates. When she says it like that it does sound stupid, he must admit.

“During all this freaking out,” Louise continues, “did it ever occur to you that what you’re feeling might just be jealousy?”

“Well yeah, I thought about that, but it’s not like I never have sex either, why would I be jealous of Phil?”

“No, you doofus, I mean you’re jealous of the other guys. Nathan and...whatshisface.”

Oh. Oh.

“You haven't even considered the possibility, have you?” Louise’s voice is amused but considerate.

“I’m not… I don’t… I-” Dan’s head is filled with different thoughts and questions all battling for attention, effectively resulting in none of them being uttered.

“Alright,” Louise says, “close your eyes.”

He’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but any excuse to hand the thinking over to someone else is very welcome and so he does as she says.

“Are they closed?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, now, picture yourself kissing some girl.”

“What, why?”

“Just do it.”

He realises there is no point in arguing and goes along with it.

“How is it?” she asks.

“It’s…nice? I guess.” In a way it is, too. He’s always enjoyed kissing, and though it makes him feel like he’s 13 years old again, picturing kissing a pretty girl is definitely not something he dislikes.

“Now picture kissing a guy.” Louise’s strange request breaks his fantasy, but before he can say anything she continues, “don’t question it, just let your mind run free.”

And so he does. This picture is a lot more difficult to maintain than the last one. He struggles to concentrate, and it’s less of a coherent fantasy and more like a distant idea he can’t fully grasp.

“Well?”

“It’s...weird. I don’t feel ill like when i walked in on Phil with that guy, but I don’t feel anything else either.”

“I have one more.” Louise sounds hesitant, as if she knows he won’t like this next proposal. “Imagine you’re kissing Phil .”

He doesn’t even bother protesting. If he’s being honest he did sort of see it coming, though the idea still makes him feel highly awkward.

Here goes nothing he thinks, and lets his mind run wild. The Phil in his head is walking towards him, as smiley as ever. He stops in front of him and hesitates for a second before moving his hand to rest on Dan’s hip, then gently cups his face with the other. He moves in slowly and lightly presses his lips to Dan’s, who sighs and parts his lips slightly, inviting the other to explore his mouth. However, just as they really start getting into it Dan is torn away by a loud cough.

“Huh?” he opens his eyes and looks around the empty room before he remembers he’s on the phone. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh . What the hell just happened?”

“What do you mean? I just did what you told me to”

“I told you to picture yourself kissing Phil, not passionately making love to him.”

“I didn’t!”

“Dan, you moaned.”

Dan’s face goes deep red and he can only thank any possible higher power that there isn’t anyone in the room to witness it.

Louise laughs. “Well, it seems like you have no problem with Phil kissing guys if it’s you he’s kissing.”

Dan almost smiles at her words, but any hints of said smile vanishes from his face when he remembers Phil wouldn’t actually kiss him, ever.

“God, Louise, what the fuck do I do?” He sighs and sinks deeper into the sofa cushions.

“I suggest you make out with Phil and live happily ever after.”

“Yeah, see, there’s a gaping hole in that plan. Phil doesn’t like me in that way!”

“Dan… are you blind and deaf or are you just simply an idiot?”

“Huh?”

“Phil is so obviously into you! Didn’t you say he got upset when you said you don’t care who he sleeps with?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And doesn’t he flirt with you like all the time?”

“That’s just for fun! It’s not like he means it.”

“Is it though?”

“I mean…I think it is. Oh God, what if it isn’t?”

On one hand the thought of Phil liking him back fills Dan with so much joy he could barely contain himself, but on the other it scares him half to death. Not only has he never been with a guy before, but Phil is one of his best friends and the thought of fucking that up terrifies him.

“Dan?” Louise’s voice is quiet and careful, as if she’s afraid she’ll scare him. “If you want my advice I say take some time, think everything over and then if you decide to tell Phil I will be here cheering you on.”

“And if I decide not to?”

“I’ll still be cheering you on, just with less enthusiasm.”

Dan chuckles. “Thanks. I love you, did you know that?”

“I’ve always suspected. Goodbye and good luck!”

“Bye.”

The next few days are agonising . His newly discovered crush ends up staying at his boyfriend-or-fuckbuddy-or-whatever’s house for three days, leaving Dan to re-think his decision over and over until he’s certain he will actually go insane. At first he decides not to do anything and just hope the crush will disappear on its own. Then, four hours and a fair amount of alcohol later, he changes his mind and suddenly telling Phil seems like the best idea anyone has ever had. It’s a good thing he didn’t charge his phone after the long chat with Louise because he tries his best to drunk dial the man in question, but the battery dies before any harm is caused.

By the time Phil finally arrives back at the apartment Dan has been back and forth so many times he’s given himself whiplash. In the end, though, he decided not to tell Phil. It’s not worth it, he thinks. Our existing friendship is more valuable than my need to snog him.

And if a little voice in the back of his head is yelling bullshit! at his claims, he is skilfully ignoring it.

A week passes and Dan is frustrated.

Then another week and Dan is in agony.

Being around Phil before he realised his feelings was bad enough, but now it’s downright torturous. More than once he finds himself staring at Phil’s lips as he speaks, or follow his hand as he raises it to brush his fringe out of his eyes or scratch his jaw or fuck knows what else.

Phil hasn’t brought up their argument, nor the cause for it, since it happened and Dan is more than happy to pretend it never happened. Nathan hasn’t been around since that day and Phil hasn’t been outside enough for Dan to suspect they’ve met anywhere else, and although he knows it’s selfish he can’t help but hope it will stay that way.

It doesn’t, of course.

“Hey, Dan, have you seen my phone?”

Dan looks up from his laptop screen to see Phil standing in the doorway of the lounge, looking mildly stressed. He chuckles at his flatmate’s expression and ponders the question for a few seconds.

“Have you checked the bathroom?” he says, finally. “I’m not entirely sure but I think I may have seen it in there earlier.”

Phil walks away and half a minute later Dan hears a triumphant “Hah!” coming from the bathroom, making him chuckle.

“It’s been missing for hours,” Phil says as he reenters the lounge and falls down on the sofa next to Dan. “Two missed calls from my mum, several snapchat notifications and- oh.”

“What?” Dan asks, confused.

“Uh, it’s nothing, nevermind.” Phil smiles at him, but contrary to popular belief Dan isn’t a complete idiot, and keeps pushing.

“Come on. Is there anything wrong?”

“No, it’s just… Nathan texted me?” It’s not a question, but the nervousness in Phil’s voice makes it sound like one, as if he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to receive texts from boys. Fuck, that makes Dan feel like a shitty person.

“Oh.”

“He’s asking if I want to go out for a drink tonight.”

“Oh,” Dan says again. “Are you going?”

Phil shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearly conflicted. “I want to, but I don’t wanna make things awkward between us again so if it bothers you for whatever reason I won’t.”

Dan wants nothing more than to tell Phil not to go, to beg him never to see Nathan - or anyone else, for that matter - ever again.

But of course he doesn’t do that. He can’t. He has no right to decide over Phil’s life, and in the end he truly does want Phil to be happy.

“You should go,” he says, finally.

“Really?” Phil sounds excited.

“Sure.”

“You’re the best,” Phil says and gives him a quick hug before getting up.

By the time Dan recovers, Phil is gone and Dan can hear him rummaging around in the bathroom, presumably getting ready for his date. With Nathan. Phil is going on a date with Nathan.

Dan feels sick. It’s the same feeling he got when he first met Nathan and realised what he and Phil had been up to, except this time he recognises it and knows what caused it. Jealousy. He is so jealous he wants to scream. He might have done it as well, if it wasn’t for Phil being able to hear him.

And so he settles for crying. He gets up and all but runs to his room, closing the door behind him before he falls into his bed and sobs into his pillow. It’s pathetic, he knows it is, but right now he has no idea what else to do. He cries until he can’t anymore, and ends up just laying there, staring up into nothing.

That’s when he sees it. On the top of his closet; the stupid plushie he’d won for his girlfriend. God, that felt like so long ago now. He can’t even remember the day he got it, only her angry cries as she threw it at him after he broke up with her. No, wait… He remembers one more thing. He remembers Phil picking it up and asking for the story behind it. He remembers him analysing it, saying it reminded Dan to do whatever it takes to be happy. He remembers his giggle when Dan called him weird.

And suddenly Dan knows exactly what he needs to do.

Before he can change his mind he hurries out of bed, rips his door open and runs down the hall. Please dear God tell me he hasn't left yet, he thinks, as he all but trips down the stairs. And for once in his life the luck is on his side because there, looking both confused and concerned, is Phil. He's wearing a coat and is clearly on his way out, but Dan has already decided that Phil's date is cancelled. Sorry Nathan. "Dan, what-" Phil begins, but Dan cuts him off.

"Do you have any idea how annoying you are?"

"I-" Phil tries again, to no avail.

"My life was going great! Well, perhaps not great, but it was fine. It was calm, and I had everything more or less figured out." For the third time, Phil opens his mouth to say something.

"But then!" Dan exclaims before he can utter as much as a syllable. "But then. Then you came along. With your stories and opinions and unique way of thinking that I could probably listen to for hours on end. And your hair is neat and never curls and somehow you can dye it an emo black well into your twenties and still look good. And then you started bringing guys home and I felt so awful and I didn’t understand why and I was sure I’d somehow become homophobic."

The confused look on Phil's face is replaced by an amused smile, and this time he doesn't even try to interrupt Dan's rant.

"And you giggle! You giggle like a five year old and it's annoying and adorable and I just want to kiss that stupid grin off your face."

"Then go for it."

"Huh?"

"Kiss the stupid grin off my face. I dare you."

And so he does. In two short steps Dan reaches Phil and he doesn't give himself as much as a second to think before grabbing the front of the other's jacket and pulling him in. Their lips meet, and suddenly nothing else matters. Dan doesn't care about his newfound sexuality crisis, all he cares about is Phil's lips and how smooth they are against his own chapped ones. Phil grabs Dan’s waist with one hand and pulls him closer, then moves the other to the back of his neck and tilts his head before he tentatively flicks his tongue over Dan’s bottom lip. Dan can’t help but moan, and doesn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed before Phil takes advantage of his parted lips and deepens the kiss and then Dan is gone.

They kiss for what feels like hours. Dan is pressed up against the wall and Phil’s coat has long since been discarded, allowing the younger to roam his hands under his shirt and feel the warm skin of his back.

“Wait, shit, Dan I-” Phil pulls back, sweaty and out of breath, and rests his forehead against Dan’s.

Dan wants nothing more than to ignore him and just keep kissing, but he knows better than to force himself on him. “What’s wrong?” he asks instead.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just um-” he nods down, and Dan follows the motion, instantly realising what he’s getting at.

“Oh.” Phil’s jeans are tight, and even in the dim light of the hallway he can clearly see the bulge forming underneath them.

“I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for, so we should probably stop before things escalate.”

Dan goes quiet for a moment, still lightly stroking Phil’s back with his thumb as he thinks. He is already in way over his head, and he has no idea how to proceed with getting intimate with another man, yet there is still a voice in his head telling him to just do it. Phil definitely isn’t the only one who’s gotten worked up over their current situation, and although he could always retreat to his room for a wank, something tells him it would be a disappointing high.

Deciding that this truly is the day for trying new things, Dan takes a deep breath and looks Phil straight in the eye as he slides his hand from his back and towards the bulge in his jeans. He moves slowly, making sure Phil knows exactly what he’s doing and has the opportunity to stop him if he wants to. He doesn’t, and Dan takes it as permission to continue. Phil gasps as Dan suddenly presses his hand against his crotch, beginning to palm him over his jeans. Dan smirks as he feels Phil grow impossibly harder under his touch, noting how his breath catches when Dan slowly pulls down his zipper.

“Can I?” Dan asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer already.

“God, yes,” Phil replies, and Dan wastes no time before pulling his jeans down over his hips, immediately resuming his previous actions. Now that the jeans are gone he can feel the shape of Phil’s length through the thin fabric of his boxers. Phil moans and God the knowledge that Dan is the reason for these noises is intoxicating.

In the midst of his desire to please Phil he has completely forgotten about his own hard-on, and so when Phil suddenly reaches out to undo Dan’s own trousers it takes him a second to understand what is happening.

“I’ve got an idea,” Phil says, fingers toying with the waistband of his jeans. “Do you trust me?”

Without even thinking, Dan replies “Completely,” and Phil pecks his lips before promptly pulling down his jeans. He then steps out of his own and discard them completely, motioning for Dan to do the same.

Once they’re both stripped down to their underwear, Phil pulls Dan in for a heated kiss that leaves him weak in the knees. As their lips and tongues move together, Phil moves both of his hands to Dan’s backside and, without warning, grabs his ass. Then, as if that wasn’t enough to send Dan’s head spinning, he pulls him impossibly closer and rolls his hips into the younger man’s, causing their erections to rub together and making them both moan into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck, shit, shit, fuck!” Dan desperately clutches Phil’s shirt as they continue to move together, the thinking part of his brain having long since stopped working. “How very articulate,” Phil teases, though the moan he lets out just afterwards makes it clear he’s just as far gone as Dan.

Dan moves his hands back to their previous spot under Phil’s shirt, desperate to feel more of his soft skin beneath his fingers. Taking the hint, Phil hastily removes the shirt completely, allowing Dan’s hands to roam even further. Whilst Dan is occupied with exploring every part of his body, Phil takes the opportunity to back him up against the wall once again. He then lowers his mouth to Dan’s neck and starts sucking and biting slightly at the skin there. This, paired with a particularly well aimed roll of his hips, makes Dan moan louder than he think he ever has, and if his brain was in a normal working state he’d no doubt be embarrassed.

“I’m ah- I’m close,” Dan manages, barely.

Phil stops.

He fucking stops.

“Phil!” Dan whines, trying his best to roll his hips into Phil’s again but he just steps back. Dan is just about to take matters into his own hands - literally - and jerk himself off, when Phil falls to his knees in front of him and oh. Oh.

Without a word, Phil pulls down Dan’s boxers, and just the sight of Phil’s mouth that close to his cock is enough to make Dan moan again. When Phil then licks a stripe from his base to his tip, Dan is certain he’s going to literally fall apart. This is proved even more likely when Phil wraps his lips around the head of his cock and starts sucking lightly, teasingly flicking his tongue over the tip. Just as Dan is about to tell Phil to please oh please hurry the fuck up, he takes his entire length into his mouth and holy shit does he even have a gag reflex?

Once again Dan warns Phil that he’s about to come, and Phil looks up at him through his lashes as he pulls his own cock out of his boxers and starts stroking himself as he takes Dan all the way down again. The tip of his cock hitting the back of Phil’s throat combined with the look on Phil’s face as he chases his own orgasm is enough to send Dan over the edge. He cries out as he comes, unable to keep his hips from bucking into Phil’s mouth as the older man swallows around him, not spilling a single drop.

Dan sinks down the wall, unable to keep himself standing any longer. In fact, he can’t see himself standing up ever again if he’s being honest. Phil wipes his own cum on his previously discarded jeans before turning back to Dan, who can’t help but run his hand through the ruffled black hair. He pulls Phil closer and their lips meet as Dan ignores the voice in his head reminding him that the lips he’s kissing were around his cock only two minutes ago.

“So,” Phil says as they pull apart for air. “What’s the verdict?”

“Huh?” Dan asks, confused.

“Well, are you homophobic or..?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Phil just giggles and pulls Dan in for another kiss.

------

so uh. did you like it? confession time, i haven't actually written a proper fic before so i'm nervous as HECK. hopefully it wasn't entirely terrible though ahhh

thank you to andy (jellyfics) for being my beta (and helping with the title when i was ready to Die after pondering it for ten hours) and to caitlyn (ratinof) for constantly assuring me that the fic isn't /entirely/ shit. i appreciate it.