#like yeah dan is lucky but does he even know he's exactly phil's type like it goes both ways

[amid-fandoms]

dan howell is so lucky :/

[dvp95]

hang on just long enough

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: public sex/blowjob, pwp, porn w/ feelings, that’s all this is

word count: 1,700

summary: Phil is meant to be the impatient one between them. Bingo squares: groping + public sex + 2010 (writer’s choice)

read on ao3 or here!

Phil knows he isn't going to win any awards for patience in the near future - he grazes while he waits for dinner to be ready, jumps in the shower before the water has warmed completely, gives up on games if he isn't having fun - but he's got a leg up on a bored, horny Dan.

In most situations, Dan has the type of handle on his self control that Phil could probably have, if he tried. He just doesn't see the point. Instant gratification is pretty great, and there's no reason to keep doing something that's not fun just because it might get fun later.

In this specific situation, Phil will happily take home the award for patience of a bloody saint.

"Dan," he whispers again, for the fourth time since they sat down.

"What?" Dan responds innocently, also for the fourth time. His hand stops its path up Phil's thigh once again, but it still doesn't retreat.

Phil doesn't know what to say, exactly. He's not sure if Dan is doing this to be a tease or if he's doing this to be a dick. As with most things Dan does, it's more likely some combination of the two. Phil's eyes flicker away from Dan, pointedly looking at their surroundings.

Dan had dragged Phil to the back corner of the bus, which hadn't seemed strange at the time. Now, Phil is wondering if that was calculated.

They don't have a lot of company on this bus, which is nice. It's early in the morning, still dark outside. Way earlier than Phil would have preferred to be up if there hadn't been the promise of a sleepy Dan waiting for him at the train station. There's an elderly couple behind the driver talking to each other quietly and a uni student still in club gear staring blankly out the window a few rows ahead of them.

Nobody is paying any attention to them at all.

While Phil is looking forward, Dan has decided to start moving his hand again. It's definitely intentional, whatever Dan's puppy eyes try to say, Phil just can't figure out what the endgame is here.

"Dan," he says quietly, because maybe the fifth time is the charm. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Dan asks, matching Phil’s volume. The faux innocence gives way to pure, unadulterated cheek. He's dimpling when Phil gives him a Look. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," says Phil. He's already said as much at the station and over a shoddy wifi connection for the past three weeks. He's missed Dan so much it aches in his chest, like he can't breathe properly in the time between Dan's visits.

"Yeah," Dan says. His large, warm palm creeps further up Phil's leg, fingertips brushing Phil's inseam. "But I missed you."

Phil's heart pounds in his ears. As nervous as he is, his body is still reacting to Dan the way it always does, always will. He glances at the student again, who is completely in her own world.

"Dan." It seems like that is all Phil is able to say. "This is so stupid."

"Yeah, and?" Dan huffs a laugh, brushing his lips against Phil's jaw and flexing his big hand and, yeah, now Phil's dick has definitely gotten the memo.

"There're, like, other people here," Phil whispers. He already knows that Dan doesn't care, and the little shrug he gets in response just confirms that.

"They're not looking at us."

"Yeah, but," Phil says, then falters. Dan's palm is pressing against him through his jeans now, the touch familiar and new all at the same time. "But, we'll be at mine in like half an hour. So you could just... wait til we get there."

Dan is usually very good at controlling himself, better than Phil by far. Phil will eat an entire bag of marshmallows while he waits for a pizza delivery and drink his coffee as soon as it hits his mug.

Right now, though, Dan doesn't seem interested in waiting. He's restless from the long, late-night train ride and the evident desire to be touching Phil in any way possible.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop," says Dan. As much as he's been teasing, there's nothing but sincerity there.

Phil feels a swell of warmth for this beautiful, clingy boy. He makes a big show of sighing before he worms his arm out from between them to pull Dan closer by the waist. He noses at Dan's ear, the metal of his piercing still surprising Phil whenever it touches his skin.

"Just... make it quick," Phil murmurs directly into Dan's ear. He feels Dan shiver, try to squirm away from the feeling instinctively. "Or I'll have an anxiety attack, for sure."

"Oh, will you?" Dan snarks.

Despite the sarcasm, Dan doesn't drag out the teasing any longer. His big brown eyes flicker over the other passengers, the driver, before he folds his lanky body half onto the floor. He has to kneel sideways to fit, his stupidly big feet poking out in the aisle. Phil’s torn between amusement and arousal as Dan starts working his flies.

"Oh," Phil breathes. He didn't expect that.

Dan snorts lightly and shakes his fringe out of his eyes to give Phil a surprisingly fond look. "You'd rather get jizz on the seat? Your jeans?"

"Definitely not," Phil says on a huff of laughter. He slumps a bit lower in the seat and angles himself diagonally to make it easier for Dan to pull his cock out of his pants, and that's a goddamn weird feeling all on its own. Phil is pretty sure his dick has never been out in a public place, doctor's offices and locker rooms notwithstanding.

Luckily, his dick isn't out for long before Dan curls forward and takes it in his big, warm mouth. Phil's eyelids flutter, but he can't close his eyes and get lost in the feeling the way he can when they're all holed up in his bedroom. He bites at his own lip and holds Dan's long hair out of his face for him. He splits his time between looking at Dan and making sure nobody is looking at them.

It's been too long, honestly. At this exact moment in time, Phil doesn't know why they don't spend all their time together with his cock in Dan's talented mouth. He likes it almost as much as Phil does - his eyes have long since fallen shut and he's making tiny muffled noises that Phil wants to care about, but he just can't bring himself to.

Nobody's listening, anyway. The noises that the bus itself is making are louder than Dan, and Phil is keeping his eye out for anyone turning around.

Dan opens his eyes as he takes Phil deeper, and Phil swallows a groan with the ease of someone who has lots of practice keeping quiet. Dan's tongue presses against the underside of Phil's cock with the soft vibration of a moan that doesn't reach Phil's ears. Phil thanks his lucky stars that he's lived in enough thin-walled places to be confident that he won't make any sounds he doesn't want to.

With anyone else, Phil might be embarrassed by how quickly he gets close, but this is Dan. Dan has brought him to the edge a hundred times since that first weekend, knows exactly how to make him fall apart. Besides, they can't exactly take their time right now.

Phil tugs lightly at Dan's hair in warning, and Dan closes his eyes again as he sinks down even further on Phil's cock. He doesn't risk taking it too deep into his throat, not with the noise that usually elicits, but Phil doesn't care. He could probably come even if Dan just sucked slowly on the head of his cock for hours, that's how wrapped around Dan's finger he is.

He tastes copper as he reaches his peak, teeth digging too sharply into his lip, and he can't quite muster up the mental capacity to care.

Dan blows him through it and then lets Phil's cock slip out of his pretty lips with a grin. He gets back into his seat with a little difficulty, the bus seats not really built for people of their height at the best of times. Phil has enough presence of mind to tuck himself back into his boxers and zip his jeans.

The sky outside the bus window is still dark. The dawn hasn't even broken yet, and Phil has already done something he never imagined he would. He wonders if Dan plans to keep this energy all week, because he's not sure his heart can handle that.

"So," Dan says, slow. He's smirking and curling close to Phil's side, so pleased with himself that it's radiating off him in waves.

Phil yawns. Only for Dan would he get out of bed in the early hours of the morning that he normally only sees when he stays up too late watching scary movies. The orgasm has made him even sleepier. "So what?"

It's a little funny how quickly Dan's expression falls into affront. "So...?" he says, pointed.

"I'll get you back at home," says Phil.

"What?" Dan squawks. For the first time, the uni student looks behind her with a perplexed expression. Phil gives her an awkward smile before he turns back to Dan.

"Not like this was my idea," Phil points out. He has to laugh at the abject horror on Dan's face as he realises that Phil really, truly, has no intention of getting him off in a public vehicle. "Don't worry, I'll make it good for you. Maybe after a nap."

Dan scowls and tangles his fingers with Phil's, the grip a bit too tight for it to be a sweet gesture. "Selfish prick."

"Impatient brat," Phil shoots back, and then they're just. Grinning stupidly at each other.

Maybe Phil's worse about waiting for things, generally, but it makes him happy to see how much Dan hates waiting for him, specifically. They don't need to live in the too-long moments between visits much longer and Phil, for one, can't wait.

[septic84]

Phil’s right to be Sad

Phil feels the need to withhold his true feelings from Dan to protect him. Dan wants none of that. 

A03

“I can't be depressed, that's Dan's thing.” I overheard Phil say one day to who I can only assume was his mum. It hurt me, deeply, but not for the reason you would think. When Phil says these types of things, I know it's never malicious, it is just a statement. The reason it hurts me is my mental health issues overshadow everything else. I wish Phil didn't feel that way, but I knew that was who he was. Kind, self-sacrificing, compassionate to his own detriment. I have noticed that Phil has been more irritable as of late, he isn't sleeping properly and is mentally foggy. I know these signs. I feel awful that Phil can't say what he means, or what he wants to me. He constantly is censoring himself due to the foreshadowing of the effect on me. He doesn't ever think of his own well-being. I feel guilty because of this and it has caused a crisis or two.

He is my best friend, trying to protect me. I wish he knew how I yearned for him to speak earnestly with me about these things. I know the reason he doesn't; he has convinced himself that my issues are worse and that by him saying anything even close to implying he was depressed, it would be almost as if it is an insult to my suffering. This, of course, was ridiculous to me. in reality, I think it would help me understand him more and maybe even myself if he shared these feelings when he had them. I often wonder if he is more quiet about it as everyone has coined Phil as a "ray of sunshine," which he typically is. Perhaps he is afraid of letting people down.

“No mum, I am fine. I just am tired.” I walked into the room nodding at Phil who gave me a weak smile. “I will, thanks. Bye.”

“Hey, Phil.”

“Hi.” He yawned and set his phone down. “Do you feel good enough to record some gaming videos?”

I cocked my eyebrow at him. “Do you?”

“What? Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Clearly.”

He scowled “What?”

“Phil,”

“Dan,”

I shook my head. “Be honest with me,” I sat next to him. “You look like you haven't slept properly in days.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I have been having issues, but I am fine. Nothing another cup of coffee won't fix.”

“Really, Phil?”

“Yes, really, Dan.” He was clearly getting annoyed.

“Go take a nap, Phil. After we can decide about filming, yeah?”

“No nap.”

“What are you, 5?”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “What are you, my mum?”

I tried not to smirk. “Want to or not, you need one, mate.” I stood up “You are really grouchy.”

“Well excuse me, Mr. Positive. Don't let my mood ruin your bleeding life.” Phil threw his hands up in the air and sighed. He stood up and looked at me as if he were going to say something else, instead he walked away, shaking his head and went to his room. I didn't know if he would sleep or not, but maybe he would rest.

I decided to cook because I wasn't sure what else I could do for him. I knew that he didn't want to open up to me, so I figured the next best thing was comfort food. Halfway through I heard Phil come into the kitchen. His hair was a mess so I knew he had at least laid down for a while.

“Less grumpy?” I asked hesitantly.

“Um, yeah. Sorry.”

I waved him off. “I am making dinner.”

“I see that it smells wonderful.”

“It should, it's your favorite.”

“You didn't need to do that Dan.” He said softly.

“Nope. Still did.”

“Well, then I am lucky. I was a jerk earlier.”

I didn't respond, I continued to cook in the tense atmosphere of the kitchen as Phil watched me. He seemed so heavy, it was almost palpable. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to be on this end of it. So many times I had put Phil through this and suddenly I was very aware of how difficult it must have been. Years and years of me refusing to tell him that I was struggling and him just watching me suffer. Did he feel like I felt now? Helpless, frustrated, fed up? I was too lost in my own head to notice Phil had left the kitchen until I went to ask him about dinner. Where had he gone? Turning off the stove I walked out into the lounge to find him, tears forming behind his eyes. I sighed.

“I know you're not okay, you know?” I sat next to him. “You don't have to talk about it, but I am here.”

“I'm still tired.” He choked out.

“Phil, please.”

He quickly blinked back the tears. “Please what?” he said, hoarsely.

“What do you need? Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jesus, Phil. Do you think I don't notice how upset you are? How exhausted?”

“I'm not-”

“Don't, Phil. You don't have to talk about it, but please don't lie to me.”

“It's not like you were always honest with me, Dan.”

“I know that,” I said softly. “Look where it led.”

He shook his head, “Fine, I'm sad.”

“Do you know why?” I remember when I started to open up to people about how I was feeling, a lot of the time they would ask why without even ascertaining the thought that I may not know.

He shrugged. “More than one reason.” He started to twist his hands together. “And no reasons at all. I don't know.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and the sclera of his eyes was bloodshot. It was clear he was desperately trying not to cry. “You don't need to deal with my shit, Dan.”

“I think I should get to make that decision, don't you? Let me take care of you as you do for me. It's okay.”

“I just want to be alone right now. Let me know when it's time to eat.” He stood stiffly and walked back into his room.

I clenched my teeth. Was I this frustrating? Had I been making Phil feel like this for years? I stood up and went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. He had asked to be alone, but I wanted nothing more than to force myself into his room and hug him. I wondered how many times he had thought the same thing when I was holed up in my room. How many times his heart hurt like this, just wanting to make me feel better?

When dinner was done, I knocked on his door after setting the table. “Dinner,” I said softly, returning to the kitchen. It took about five minutes, but when he came to the table I knew he had been crying.

“What would you like to drink?” I asked.

“I don't care.” I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. I sat down and started to eat one of the most uncomfortable meals we had ever eaten together. He said nothing, he didn't look at me, and he just picked at his plate.

“You don't have to eat it,” I said after I had watched him push the same forkful around his plate 5 times. “It's okay.” I made sure my tone was as even and unassuming as possible.

“I'm sorry, Dan.” He rubbed his face with his palms. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“That's okay, though,” I encouraged. “Sometimes it's hard to sift through all the feelings and thoughts, yeah?”

He looked up at me, “I know it so much worse for you. I shouldn't complain.”

“What are you on about?” I was confused.

“Here I am, filled with self-pity and you, you have actual depression. I suppose I seem like an insensitive jerk.”

“Phil, are you insinuating that because I have depression that you can't be depressed?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

“I don't have a diagnosed illness, Dan.”

“It doesn't matter, Phil. You still can be sad, or upset or whatever you're feeling.”

“I guess.”

“No “I guess” about it. You are too considerate of others for your own good.” I shook my head and said gently, “You have a right to be sad, Phil.”

“Thanks.” He didn't sound like he believed me.

“Why don't I make you a cup of hot chocolate and we can sit in the lounge and maybe watch something?”

He nodded resolutely and got up. I put away the food and made the drinks, retreating to my room briefly to retrieve the bag of marshmallows I had hidden from him. They were intended for a baking video, but it didn't matter. He needed them now.

“Here,”

A smile cracked his lips. “You hid these really well, I had no idea.”

“Oh, I know Phily. Enjoy them, friendo.”

“Can we just, like, maybe sit here? Not watch anything? Is that stupid?

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah,”

“It's not stupid,” I assured. So that's what we did, sat together sipping our drinks, being still and peaceful together. I understood this. Sometimes I didn't want any stimulation, but I didn't want to be alone, either. We sat for at least a half of an hour before Phil said.

“I don't want to trigger you.”

“How do you mean?”

“You have been feeling better lately. I would hate to ruin that for you.”

“Phil,” I patted his leg. “You know as well as I do, anything or nothing at all can trigger me, that isn't even the point I'm trying to make. It doesn't matter. It isn't important how this affects me right now.”

“It is, though.”

I felt my chest constrict with emotion. “You are my best friend. You are supposed to talk to me when you need too. I am okay right now, Phil. I am in a good place. Please talk to me.”

“Lately I just am so tired, so sad. I feel like my life is at a low point and I don't even know why.”

I nodded.

“So I feel like maybe I am depressed, but I don't know how I could be. Or maybe I am just sad for now. But I can't tell why. If I think really hard, I can come up with some things, but none of them seems enough to feel this, “ He stopped, “Whatever this is.”

“Lack of sleep can do that, too.”

“Yeah,”

“Too much idle time does too, for me anyway.” I took a deep breath. “Do you think you should see someone?”

He crinkled his nose. “No,”

“Phil,”

He held his hands up, “This isn't a pride thing, Dan. I really don't think I need a doctor.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

“I am just really confused.”

“That's okay. You don't need to try and figure it out now, or ever if you don't want. What do you need from me? What can I do for you?”

He smiled sadly, “Just this, here, right now.”

I nodded. “Don't ever sit alone with your demons because you are afraid to let them play with mine. I have mine on a leash now, I can deal with yours, okay?”

“I still, worry,”

“I know. That's okay. Let me worry about me for now, yeah? You worry about you.”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.” I smiled at him widely

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

And that's how we spent the evening, only occasionally talking, slow and peaceful. I knew he still was concerned about me, but I guess that was out of my control. For now, I would just take care of Phil to ensure he knew he had the right to be sad.

[soap-brain]

You Always Meet Twice In Life

hey guys, it is i, bringing you no prompt fill but instead a story that suddenly demanded to be finished today!

under the cut: Pairing: Chril - Christopher Pike x Philip Boyce Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 10.150

if y’all like it (or also if not :p), there might be some additional chapters in work...

everything tag list: @bottomkirk @gumballgladiator @logicheartsoul @kagenightray @jimothyandspocko @logicallythyla @needles-and-ink @headcanonsilove @i-am-a-real-human-being @fallenpiestiel @skyeries @alanna342 @shamanship @startrektrash @lesbiantasha

chril tag list: @gracieminabox @loststarlight

The only reasons Phil'd attended the party were the free drinks and a hope to get lucky tonight. He figured he'd earned it, considering he was only a month shy of his thirtieth birthday and just got his second PhD in advanced intracellular medicine. The party is for some admiral's kid graduating, or getting a promotion, or whatever - another stuck up brat believing they deserve the world because they were born into money and status. But the event itself was alright, enough pretty young officers milling around between Starfleet's nobility, and the drinks were damn good. Whoever was paying for this must've shelled out half a starship in credits.

For Phil it's a bit weird to be among people again in a normal setting. The past months - years? eternity? - he'd divided his time between the hospital and the labs and the library, been in his apartment only for sleeping. He figures he lost some weight and quite some normal socialization skill, but see if he cares.

He flags the bartender down for another cocktail. Apple martini, god's gift to mankind. Fruity enough to be very tasty, but not masking the sting of the alcohol.

He peruses the room, trying to find a person who's just his type to take home tonight. The gently thumping base is sending shivers up his spine, and the dance floor is slowly dissolving into displays of youthful wantonness that surely scandalize the brass. Phil observes a couple for a while, both drinks in hand and hair flowing freely, and laughing, obviously having the time of their lives. They might not be his preferred gender (god what wouldn't he give for a hard, hairy chest pressing him into the mattress, deep voice panting into his ear and a cock up his ass), but damn if they don't get his blood flowing. It's definitely been too long. His heart is beating in time with the music and he's starting to tingle all over, eyes following the sway of the bodies. His pants are getting more uncomfortable by the second.

      "This seat taken?" a voice straight out of a dirty fantasy asks. Phil turns around to lay eyes on the most sinfully beautiful man he's ever seen in his life, uniform sharp and utterly perfect, unruly, dark blond hair on his head long enough to pull on, and a set of lips and eyes that make his knees go weak and Phil decides that yes, that's the guy he's going to take home with him. He rakes his eyes over him slowly, noticing how the other man is built, long strong legs (perfect for wrapping around Phil's waist), narrow hips and broad shoulders with strong arms (perfect for shoving Phil face first into the mattress), and a smile that's liquid heat in Phil's groin.

      "All yours." He motions to the stool.

      "Oh, I bet," gorgeous says, eyes wandering over Phil's body as well, stopping at the very prominent bulge between his legs for a few long moments. Phil doesn't even bother putting himself less on display. He wants and so does the stranger.

      "You come here often?" tall-and-beautiful asks with a smirk. He's a teaser. Fuck, how'd Phil get so lucky?

He's also somewhere high-ranking - Phil can't exactly make out his number of stars or the stripes on his sleeves, but he's not anybody.

      "Yeah, love these parties, they let me pick up anyone with a nice set of promotions and a pretty face."

Pretty face laughs and signals the bartender for a whiskey. "So I'm here to fulfil your dirty fantasy of getting fucked by an officer, that right?"

Phil notices his hands, beautiful long fingers, perfect for several tasks, no doubt, and he leans a bit closer. "Who says I'm the one getting fucked?". It’s a tease, too - Phil is far too desperate to be the one doing the fucking.

Probably-has-a-trust-fund (come on, he has the bearing of someone who does, and he's far too young for all those pretty pins on his chest) laughs (beautifully, of course) and steals a swipe of the frosted sugar on the rim of Phil's glass, sucking on his finger far longer than necessary.

      "I do." and takes a sip of his whiskey without his eyes ever leaving Phil.

There's a drop of whiskey left on his lips and Phil leans forward to swipe his tongue over it.

It's damn fine whiskey, and a damn fine guy Phil chose. A hand wanders up his thigh, stopping short of the junction between leg and torso, and Phil twitches in his pants.

      "I'm Phil," he says an inch away from beautiful's lips, and the other guy grins, running his thumb over Phil's lips. Phil bites, gently. He gets a harsh inhale and an even hungrier stare in response.

      "Aren't you gonna tell me what name to scream later?" he asks, letting go of the thumb.

      "I'm ... Chris."

Phil snorts. "Wow, that's certainly not a fake name at all."

'Chris' rolls his eyes. "Does it really matter? I plan on fucking you until you don't even remember your name." His hand nudges a bit closer to Phil's groin and he shifts his hips forward, knees brushing his.

      "Fair," he admits. "Your place or mine? I live a couple minutes down the street, so unless you've got somewhere closer ..."

      "Nope. Been living shipside for quite a while now, don't even got a place down here."

      "My place it is then."

They both stand up almost at the same time, and all of a sudden they're really close, close enough to smell, and part of Phil wants to press him against the bar and rub himself all over.

      "Hope you've got a sturdy bed," is whispered into his ear, and Phil's dick twitches. He steps even further until they're pretty much pressed up against each other.

      "Got a new one recently. You might have to help me break it in. Properly." It's a lie, but the grin on 'Chris' face is more than worth it.

      "What are we waiting for, then?"

They make their way towards the entrance. 'Chris' stays a few steps behind Phil, who's ass is practically burning with the intensity it's being stared at.

The cold night air is a bit sobering, but 'Chris' immediately catches up to Phil and walks so close that their shoulders brush.

    "So, Phil. What's a pretty young doctor doing on a promo party for someone he probably doesn't know?"

    "How'd you know I was a doctor?"

    "Oh, please. I can read insignia."

    "Fair enough."

    "So?"

Phil turns towards 'Chris' and winks. "I was hoping to find exactly you."

    "What makes me so special?"

    "You're hot."

'Chris' grins lazily. "So you're saying you were taking advantage of the party to get laid? I'm scandalized."

    "Oh, I figure I earned it. Had a minor breakthrough a couple weeks ago that led to the invention of a new vaccine, and I got my second PhD today. You know, regular stuff, so I figured I more than had reason to celebrate. What about you?" Bragging is generally not nice and not Phil’s thing at all. This is an exception, because he’s sure ‘Chris’ (or whatever his name is) is into it.

    "That's an impressive vita you got there," 'Chris' says and looks Phil over again. "So you're not just pretty but also intelligent?"

    "That something you into? Want me to whisper microscopic intracellular biology into your ear while I fuck you?"

    "You could make it work, darlin’. Thought we had agreed I was going to be the one doing the fucking though?"

Phil laughs. "Aw, I thought you were young enough to get it up more than once."

'Chris' laughs as well. "Touché."

    "You speak French?"

    "Nah. German. You?"

    "Surprise, yes I do." Phil nudges him sideways a little to get into the entrance to his apartment building.

'Chris' whistles lowly. "Nice place. So how do I get you to talk French to me?"

Phil makes for the lifts. "J'espère vraiment que vous êtes prêt à vous embrasser dans l'ascenseur."

'Chris' catches up with him. "Fuck that's hot. What'd you say?"

    "Non, rien. À peu près combien je veux que vous me baisez," he says, punching in his floor number. 'Chris' is incredibly close and, judging by the bulge in his pants, incredibly aroused. God, Phil can't wait.

    "Again, no fucking clue what you said, but it's hot. Then again, you could talk about world’s most boring topic and make it the hottest thing I ever heard, no matter the language." He moves in even closer. The railing of the elevator presses against Phil's back. 'Chris' smells fantastic. There's a hand on Phil's jaw and his self control breaks, grabbing 'Chris' by the lapels of his jacket, turning him around and shoving him ungently against the wall, kissing him. 'Chris' moans into the kiss, hands immediately sliding into Phil's hair and pawing at his dress jacket. There's a thigh pushing its way between Phil's legs and he grinds against it, gasping into the kiss. 'Chris' is burning hot, tongue sliding against Phil's, deliciously filthy.

They pull away to gasp for air.

    "Fuck, if you fuck the way you kiss, I definitely only ever want to be on the receiving end," Phil pants out and 'Chris' laughs.

The elevator chimes, announcing their stop. Phil pulls 'Chris' out by his jacket, immediately shoving him against the next wall to kiss him again. 'Chris' rocks his hips forward, and they both moan.

    "Please tell me your apartment isn't, dunno, at the end of the hall," 'Chris' pants. Phil laughs and disentangles himself.

    "Sorry."

There's a possessive hand on his ass the second he turns around. He grabs 'Chris' other hand and pulls him with him. 'Chris' manages to press fleeting bites and kisses into Phil's neck as they walk, and hell, usually Phil would rather murder people than let them mark him in such a public place. But ... damn, he wants this gorgeous stranger to mark him everywhere, wants him to do everything he ever wanted.

He fumbles the door code because 'Chris' is pressing up so hot and hard against his side, breath fanning over Phil's face whenever he stops kissing at the junction of his ear and jaw (and how does he know it's one of Phil's most sensitive places, that you can drive him wild by just stimulating him there?), and then the door opens and they fall inside, lights flickering on but all Phil can focus on is tearing 'Chris' uniform off of him.

There’s a sudden rip and the strain on Phil’s hands lessens considerably as he’s now holding a rather large piece of fabric that isn’t attached to ‘Chris‘ jacket anymore. It’s the front part, the one with all the little medals and whatnot. Holy shit. Phil is so screwed.

    “Fuck, that was hot,” ‘Chris’ gasps and he’s incredibly aroused, draped against the wall like Lust herself

Phil’s still frozen in shock, so ‘Chris’ shoves him back, tearing at Phil’s dress jacket too, a bit more artfully. They stumble against the couch just as his jacket hits the floor, and Phil’s brain is back online enough that he can wrap his arms around ‘Chris’’ neck to tug him in for another heated kiss, both of them struggling with ‘Chris’’ jacket now. Then it’s gone and ‘Chris’ breaks the kiss to shove his hands under Phil’s undershirt, biting at his neck again. Phil arches his back and tugs at the dirty blonde curls until ‘Chris’ actually bites down.

His undershirt bunches up around his armpits uncomfortably, but the way ‘Chris’ all but attacks his nipples more than makes up for it, biting, kissing, sucking, licking and doing everything to make Phil gasp and press up against him. He presses a knee up and ‘Chris’ groans appreciatively, rolling his hips against it while he’s panting hot wet breath over Phil’s stomach.

    “Bed. Now,” Phil orders, surging up to kiss ‘Chris’ again and push him backwards. His erection lines up perfectly with ‘Chris’’ and he rolls his hips, making his partner moan and pull him closer. There’s a hand in Phil’s hair and another one on his ass and a tongue in his mouth and the heat of another person so, so close. ‘Chris’ smells like pure male sex, tasting of whiskey. The angle changes suddenly, ‘Chris’ grunting as the couch leaves them. 'Fuck, he’s strong enough to lift me up’, Phil thinks. It’s exhilarating.

‘Chris’ carries them to the wall they started at, pinning Phil with his hips. Their trapped erections press exactly against each other. ‘Chris’ thrusts a little in time with the movements of his tongue, sending bolts of arousal through Phil. God, he could come like this.

‘Chris’ works a hand between their bodies, pushing against Phil’s dick, and he moans, because fuck, fuck, if ‘Chris’ keeps that up Phil will come in his pants and that’d be embarrassing.

‘Chris’ pulls away from the kiss, dropping his forehead against Phil’s shoulder for a moment. He’s panting, shoulders heaving, and neither of them can seem to stop rolling their hips.

    “Fuck,” ‘Chris’ swears and Phil laughs, a bit out of breath.

    “Yes please.”

He gets a growl and a bite to the nape of his neck, and then ‘Chris’’ hand is tugging at his pants, fumbling with the fastening, each movement another shower of sparks through Phil’s groin.

    “Fuck, thought you were gonna take me to bed,” Phil pants, head falling against the wall and eyes sliding shut. ‘Chris’’ knows what he’s doing, hot damn.

    “I’m gonna let you down,” ‘Chris’ pants. “And then I’m going to suck your dick until you cry.”

Phil’s legs wobble as they hit the floor again and are forced to hold up his own weight. ‘Chris’ drops onto his knees, eyes glittering and a dirty smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He nuzzles the bulge in Phil’s pants and Phil threads a hand into his hair, trying to tug him forward.

    “You better behave yourself,” the sex god at his feet growls. He tugs Phil’s pants down roughly and immediately rubs his cheek against Phil’s groin. There’s a hint of stubble that adds a wonderful rasping sensation. He raises up a bit to mouth at the clothed head of Phil’s dick, dampening his underwear.

He takes his goddamn time too, tugging Phil’s boxers off with his teeth, and when they’re finally sitting snugly under his balls Phil is teetering at the edge.

‘Chris’ sits back with the smug satisfaction of someone who knows exactly that. His hair feels good in Phil’s hand, and he keeps licking his lips, not taking his eyes off of Phil’s cock.

    “Fuck, this is probably a really fucking bad idea, but I’m assuming since you’re a doc, your physicals are all good?”

He wants to blow Phil without barrier film. Fuck.

    “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Phil rasps out against the blood rushing in his ears, and then there’s a set of hands on his hips and a hot tongue running up the length of his cock and the world fades out around him.

‘Chris’ swallows him down easily, bobbing his head around Phil for a while, hitting an almost-gag reflex every single time. Phil wants to buck into ‘Chris’’ mouth but he can't move with ‘Chris’’ hands fixing him to the wall like steel bolts, so he settles for holding on to his wrist and another hand in ‘Chris’’ hair.

He pulls off with a dirty slurping sound, grinning up to Phil, wiping his saliva-slick chin with the back of his hand before going right back in, kissing his balls almost gently (and that’s a sensation Phil would definitely like a repeat performance of), licking and sucking his way up to the tip again, tongue flicking out to nudge under the head of Phil’s dick.

Phil shouts with the sudden pleasure, doubling over, both hands shooting into ‘Chris’’ hair, trying to coax him to take his dick in his mouth again, but ‘Chris’ remains stubborn.

    “I take it that this was a good spot?” he asks when Phil has recovered a little, and Phil laughs.

    “Fuck, yes that was a good spot. Don’t fucking do that again or I’ll come.”

‘Chris’ takes a moment, and then he grins. “Hope your refractory period is good.”

He licks his lips again and then presses against that exact spot again before quickly taking only the head in his mouth, suckling and curling his tongue under the mushroom head of Phil’s cock, pressing and probing. Phil wants to hold off, wants to last so badly.

He comes with a shout, grip on ‘Chris’’ hair tightening and his head slamming against the wall.

    “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, almost delirious with how lightheaded he’s getting. ‘Chris’ laughs around his dick and pulls off, pressing a parting kiss to the head. There’s a drop of come in the corner of ‘Chris’’ mouth and he licks it off, eyes never leaving Phil’s.

‘Chris’ gets up and stretches, shirt riding up to reveal a taut stomach. Phil stumbles a bit over the pants around his ankles, but he manages to grab ‘Chris’ and kiss him thoroughly. The other man groans into the kiss.

    “Bed,” Phil repeats, pulling away a little, and ‘Chris’ grins.

    “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Phil lets go of him to toe off his shoes and shove his pants down and his shirt off. ‘Chris’ watches him, eyes glittering.

    “Damn, you’re tasty,” he mutters.

Phil kicks his pants away and steps up to ‘Chris’, running his hands over his chest.

    “Speak for yourself. Didn’t know a blowjob this good was even possible.” He leans in to mouth at ‘Chris’’ neck, and the other man lets his head fall sideways, breath shivering in his throat.

He goes willingly when Phil nudges him in the direction of the bedroom, hands pliant at Phil’s sides. His eyes scrunch close against the sensation of Phil nuzzling his throat, occasionally making tiny sounds. It’s a bit odd how quickly they went from tearing each other’s clothes off to almost-reverence, odd how they seem to fall in orbit around each other that quickly. For a moment it scares Phil, the implication that there’s maybe something more between them, that maybe he’ll still be thinking about this stranger in twenty years, missing him. Then he nudges ‘Chris’’ erection and 'Chris' moans, high and needy, and all rational thought is gone from Phil’s mind. He shoves the other man down on his bed.

‘Chris’ sprawls beautifully atop of it, a picture of sheer wantonness and arrogance, gold blond hair like straight out of a stupid shampoo commercial, smirk on his face. He's without doubt thoroughly and utterly aroused.

Phil runs a hand over ‘Chris’’ knee and thigh, the thick fabric of his pants not allowing him to fully feel the hot skin underneath. The shirt is a little more forthcoming, bleeding heat and ‘Chris’’ heartbeat through. Phil meets his eyes. They’re dark, fixed on Phil like ‘Chris’ wants to eat him. A bit of tongue is peeking out from ‘Chris’’ lips; they’re glistening with spit and are a beautiful, swollen red.

    “I think you’re overdressed,” Phil says, heart beating fast in excitement.

��   “Help me undress?” ‘Chris’ has the audacity to wink.

Phil straddles him slowly, grinding his naked ass down against ‘Chris’’ crotch, and the beautiful stranger goes cross-eyed for a moment.

    “Fucking stop teasing already, Phil. Please.”

Phil laughs. He’s pretty sure he could come a second time, probably a third if they take it slow, and he loves the feeling of ‘Chris’ squirming under him.

    “What if I wanted to tease you until you can’t take it anymore and have your wicked way with me?” he suggests, smiling innocently.

‘Chris’ swallows and runs his hands over Phil’s thighs, up to his hips, guiding the rocking movement.

    “Hell, I mean,” he clears his throat, “I wouldn’t complain, but please. Please.” He rocks his hips up into Phil, who feels weirdly powerful. There’s nothing really keeping ‘Chris’ from doing what he wants, and yet he’s still under Phil, shuddering with every roll of Phil’s hips.

Phil trails his fingers over ‘Chris’’ chest and begins playing with the buttons, opening them one after another, until he can properly admire the expanse of skin before him. He runs his hand through the dark curls and plays with ‘Chris’’ nipples. ‘Chris’ goes entirely breathy.

Phil leans down some more and mouths at the base of ‘Chris’’ neck, flicking his tongue out to taste the skin, breath fanning over ‘Chris’, who moans, high and entirely lost to the sensation.

    “If you finger me,” he whispers into ‘Chris’’ neck. “If you finger me really good, almost make me come from it, make me beg for it, and if you don’t come at all nor touch yourself during it, my ass is all yours.”

‘Chris’ shudders in response, still gasping for breath. “Fuck. Fuck, yeah, fuck, I can do that, oh God, I can do that, please, please let me.”

Phil grins and slides off of ‘Chris’, watching as the other man collects himself, wetting his lips and trying to control his breathing. He sits up eventually, cheeks flushed and hair messy, absolutely fucking beautiful, and practically tears his shirt off, eyes never leaving Phil. There’s some complicated wrangling with his pants and shoes, but eventually he manages to tear off his pants. His boxers are next to go, and then his dick is slapping up against his stomach, thick, slightly curved, absolutely reddened and slick with precome. ‘Chris’ pushes his hips against nothing for a few moments, eyes shut so tightly he looks like he’s almost in pain before he opens them again and throws a look at Phil.

    “Hope you’ve got lube around here somewhere,” he pants, smiling haphazardly.

Phil stretches out on the bed, presenting himself a little.

    “Bedside table.” The bedside table is also where he keeps his small but distinguished collection of toys and, as predicted, ‘Chris’ gasps for breath slightly.

    “So how do I get to see you use these?” he asks, turning back around to Phil. He’s got the lube, but he’s also dangling the dark blue anal beads from his finger.

Phil grins and undulates slowly against the sheets. “Mmh, you have to buy me dinner for that.”

‘Chris’ laughs and tosses them somewhere behind him. Ordinarily Phil would object (he loves those beads), but ‘Chris’ has his eyes fixed on him, lips almost curled to a snarl.

    “Hands and knees,” he growls. Phil complies easily, stretching his body out and then resting in a rather sexual puppy pose.

    “Shit, please tell me you do yoga.” ‘Chris’ runs his hand over the swell of Phil’s ass and he pushes back into it, purring a bit.

    “And I’m naturally very bendy.”

    “Fucking perfect,” ‘Chris’ mutters, licking over Phil’s spine. He shudders. This guy is proving to be an absolute bomb.

‘Chris’ teasingly runs his fingers over Phil’s hole, just the barest hint of pressure. Phil presses back immediately, and ‘Chris’ obligingly slides his finger inside. Phil sighs. Yeah, it’s definitely far, far better when it’s not your own fingers.

‘Chris’ teases almost gently, running his thumbnail over the rim. Phil groans softly into the pillow. ‘Chris’ nudges a second finger in, still so slowly and gently, curling them, spreading them, twisting on the outpull.

    “Aaahh, fuck,” Phil breathes.

    “Enjoying yourself?”

    “God, yes.” ‘Chris’ spreads his fingers again, forcing Phil to open even further. “Fuck, your fingers are amazing.”

    “Your ass is amazing,” ‘Chris’ counters, spreading Phil’s cheeks. “You really were hoping to get lucky, huh? What with the shaving and the -” He curls his fingers again and that! That was a damn close call to Phil’s prostate.

    “Left,” he gasps out, suddenly a whole lot more preoccupied and unable to do smalltalk.

    “Huh?”

    “Do that again, but a little further left! Please!”

‘Chris’ laughs. “Why should I?” He nudges ever-so-close to Phil’s prostate again. “You’ve been pretty damn set on torturing me too, so why shouldn’t I get some revenge?” This time his fingers pass over the bundle of nerves lightning-quick. Phil gasps into the pillow, suddenly rock hard again. ‘Chris’ worms his other hand into Phil’s hair and forces his head up.

    “I wanna hear those sweet sounds you make,” he whispers into his ear, biting gently at the lobe. “Wanna hear you scream while I open you for my cock.” He pulls his fingers out, rubbing at the rim for a few far too long moments while Phil pants, little whimpers in his throat.

    “Please,” he gasps out through this strained throat. “Please.”

‘Chris’ kisses him and pushes his fingers back in, fast, homing in on Phil’s prostate, sending burning hot sparks through his groin and up his spine and into his toes. Phil’s head falls forward again, ‘Chris’ letting it go, and he presses his forehead into the mattress, moaning desperately.

    “Again,” he demands.

‘Chris’ laughs again, the fucker, twisting his fingers perfectly over the little bundles of nerves. Phil’s toes curl and his hips thrust back of their own volition trying to fuck himself on ‘Chris’’ fingers. ‘Chris’ lets him, holding his fingers strong and steady, and Phil starts keening with every thrust. He doesn’t hit his prostate every time, but that only makes it better, little rivulets of sweat running down his back adding some extra stimulation, and then there’s the all-encompassing fire of ‘Chris’’ fingers. His partner plays with his cheeks, fingers quickly dipping down to press against his perineum, play with his balls, and stroking the inside of Phil’s thighs. Every damn thrust shakes Phil. Then ‘Chris’ starts pressing the pads of his fingers upwards, putting even more pressure on his prostate until Phil sobs, clawing hard enough at the sheet to nearly tear it. He’s on fire, every sensation on his skin extra sensation, heat pooling more and more in his gut, every thrust making him clench down. So, so close.

‘Chris’ pulls his fingers out.

Phil presses back against him, fruitlessly, until he understands.

    “No… no, please! Chris, please, please.”

‘Chris’ presses gentle kisses to every processus spinosus while he very carefully lubes up his fingers again, the slick sounds contrasting with the gentle touches of his lips, and going straight to Phil’s cock. Maybe it had been a bad idea to let Chris dominate him like that, because damn, Phil needs to come now, right now, with ‘Chris’’ beautiful fingers pressed against his prostate, and then another time with his cock.

    “Need to come, beautiful?” ‘Chris’ asks, right into Phil’s ear again. He shivers at the breath ghosting over his skin.

    “Please. Please.”

    “Think you can come a third time after that?” ‘Chris’ chest hair is dragging over Phil’s sweaty back, synapses shooting the sensation everywhere.

    “On your cock?” Phil grinds back against ‘Chris’ breathlessly. “Hell yeah.”

    “Good.”

Then ‘Chris’ pushes his fingers back inside, three this time, stretching Phil nicely, making him feel every knuckle. Phil whimpers as they hit his prostate, the barest hint of sensation, and it’s making him tighten up even more, the sheer anticipation.

    “Hmm, I’m wondering -” ‘Chris’ murmurs, and no, no, can’t he wonder later, not when Phil is so close? “- since you probably want to sleep in this bed, was wondering whether we shouldn’t maybe get a towel.” Phil can barely understand what the fuck ‘Chris’ is talking about, because god, he wants, he wants, he wants so badly.

‘Chris’ pulls his fingers out. “Guess I’ll have to find the bathroom myself then.”

He’s back within moments, running a gentle hand over Phil’s spine.

    “You stayed in position. Man, it looks like you really want to be fucked.”

Phil whines in response, trying to spread his legs even farther. ‘Chris’ tucks the towel under him, running his fingers over Phil’s twitching dick, and then his fingers are back inside Phil’s ass. Phil groans and presses back immediately. ‘Chris’’ fingers hitting his prostate perfectly.

    “Come for me, Phil,” ‘Chris’ whispers into his ear, wrapping his fingers around his dick and tugging.

Phil shivers, entirely too on-edge, sensations shooting along his nerves, cock thrumming to the presses on his prostate.

    “Come for me,” ‘Chris’ says again, biting his neck, and Phil does, gasping into the pillow, clenching around ‘Chris’’ fingers, body undulating with the shockwaves.

‘Chris’ pulls his fingers out, petting Phil’s rim while he starts breathing again, having completely collapsed into the mattress.

    “Fuck, you’re attractive when you come.”

Phil pushes himself up and flops onto his back, still panting.

    “You got damn talented fingers,” he gets out, eyes half closed. “God.”

‘Chris’ runs his hand along the inside of Phil’s thigh.

    “I hope you’re not planning to nap now,” he teases.

Phil smiles blissfully. “Oh, I could.” He doesn’t need to look at ‘Chris’ to know he’s pouting, and again it’s scary how close he already feels to him. “Haven’t gotten any action in, hmm, aaaages, so what if I’m a little exhausted now?”

‘Chris’ pounces on him, biting his way up Phil’s chest and neck until he’s kissing him, harsh, nipping at Phil’s lips and forcing his tongue inside. Phil can’t help himself but run a hand up ‘Chris’’ arm, admiring the bunched-up muscles of his shoulders, strong neck. He threads his legs out from between ‘Chris’’ and wraps them around his hips instead, ‘Chris’ groaning appreciatively and nudging his pelvis against Phil’s.

    “Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good.” He kisses along Phil’s jaw again, hips already subtly thrusting against his skin.

Phil wiggles, and from the sound ‘Chris’ makes he obviously enjoys it. “All yours.”

‘Chris’ guides himself in, a broken sound leaving his throat. Phil tilts his hips upwards, going a bit cross-eyed as he’s finally, finally getting that beautiful dick. He’s so full, can feel it in his throat, and he’s not even anywhere close to getting hard again.

    “So tight,” ‘Chris’ gasps against Phil’s neck, shaking with holding himself back. “So fucking hot, Phil, god.”

    “Baise-moi,” Phil says, grinning stupidly at the ceiling. “Viens, baise-moi, donne-moi bien.”

    “I got no idea what that’s supposed to mean but please, please Phil, let me.”

    “Dieu, oui, s'il vous plaît.” ‘Chris’’ dick is almost burning and Phil needs it, needs it so badly.

‘Chris’ pushes himself up, haphazardly shoving his hair out of his face. He looks obviously desperate.

    “Please, please let me, Phil, oh God, I have no idea what you just said, but please.”

Phil laughs breathlessly and runs a hand through ‘Chris’’ hair.

    “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, fuck me, put me into next week, please.”

‘Chris’ head falls back onto Phil’s clavicle and then he snaps his hips into Phil, dragging his cock over seemingly every nerve ending, littering shakey kisses over Phil’s neck, hand on his coccyx, pulling his hips up further. Phil locks his ankles behind ‘Chris’’ and presses back, nails digging grooves in his scapulae, and Phil is definitely fast on the road to recovery, because every snap of ‘Chris’’ hips sends sparks up Phil’s spine. ‘Chris’ changes the angle a bit and hits Phil’s prostate dead on. Phil gasps, half in shock, bucking back against ‘Chris’, the hot slick drag of the head of ‘Chris’’ dick against his prostate becoming the center of his universe.

‘Chris’ pulls back for a moment, brushing his hair out of his face again, a wild look in his eyes. Phil winks and lets his leg wander from around ‘Chris’’ waist to on his shoulder, and ‘Chris’ grins a bit maniacally.

    “Right. You’re bendy.”

    “Damn right I am.”

‘Chris’ kisses the inside of Phil’s knee, suckling on the skin, and gives an experimental thrust of his hips, cock dragging perfectly over seemingly every nerve ending. ‘Chris’’ head falls back, lips opening of their own volition.

     “Fuck, feel so damn good, Phil, so fucking tight.” ‘Chris’ presses in deep again, slowing down as if to savour every sensation. He runs a hand down Phil’s leg to pet at where they’re joined, press gently against Phil’s perineum, and then up again, playing with Phil’s sac. Phil gasps out a shivery breath because he’s approaching oversensitive, clenching down even harder around ‘Chris’, making him moan high in his throat and thrust again and again, slowly but surely setting Phil on fire from the inside.

    “I’d love to see you ride me, move those hips, bounce on my dick, god, you’d look so fucking good, Phil, so damn beautiful.” ‘Chris’ is babbling now, clearly rapidly losing all higher brain functions.

    “Then let me.”

    “Seriously?”

    “Yeah. Just get on your back and let me have free rein to sit on your dick.”

‘Chris’ pulls out faster than humanly possible, dick slapping up wetly against his stomach, and he flops on his back. Phil grins and straddles him immediately. He’s already getting an idea on how sore he’ll be tomorrow. ‘Chris’’ dick catches on Phil’s rim before it slides through the cleft, twitching slightly.

    “Actually,” Phil says and grins at ‘Chris’. “I don’t think that’s the position I want.”

Before ‘Chris’ can object Phil turns around, pressing his ass out to rub against ‘Chris’’ dick, knees bracketing ‘Chris’’ hips.

    “I think you’re getting a better view like this,” he remarks coily over his shoulder. ‘Chris’ moans softly, already nudging his dick against Phil again. Phil rises up high on his knees and runs a hand over ‘Chris’’ dick, thumb dragging over the slit, before he puts two fingers inside himself, spreading his hole for ‘Chris’ to see, bending over a little.

    “Oh god, please, Phil,” the other man breathes, hands having settled on Phil’s hips.

Phil puts the head of ‘Chris’’ dick against his hole, letting it rest there for a few moments before slowly, carefully sliding down, clenching around ‘Chris’.

    “Fuck,” ‘Chris’ whispers, throat obviously dry. Phil grins and wiggles a little, pushing his ass out and rotating his hips a little.

    “You happy back there?” He asks with a smirk.

    “Fuck, yes. Your ass is so great, you could probably make a fortune selling it.”

Phil freezes for a second before he laughs, bucking his hips a little. “Wow, I don’t wanna know the kind of people you usually pick up if you expect that to work.” He lifts his hips, almost letting ‘Chris’ slip out, before slamming back down, quickly working up a fantastic rhythm that takes some pressure away from his prostate. ‘Chris’ is all whines and moans and a ton of sexy little sounds, squeezing the globes of Phil’s ass and playing with his rim, every thrust making ‘Chris’ make another sound from deep in his throat. Phil’s thighs quickly start aching pleasantly, every thrust ‘Chris’ gives back to him making another little shake strain them.

    “Turn around,” ‘Chris’ says suddenly, giving a soft little whimper as Phil stops moving. “Please, turn around, I wanna see you.”

Phil pulls off and turns around, delight blooming in his chest as he sees how absolutely wrecked ‘Chris’ looks.

    “Don’t tease me, Phil, please, just give it to me.”

Yeah. Yeah, ‘Chris’’d probably earned that. Phil spreads his legs some more and positions the lovely cock he's getting, and then he slides down again, spine bowing in pleasure. ‘Chris’ grabs his hips desperately, immediately trying to push deeper. Phil lets him, lets him lift Phil off and slam him down again, falling into a punishing rhythm that makes Phil see stars with every drag of ‘Chris’’ cockhead against his prostate. Phil's dick slaps against his stomach, adding to the lovely sounds of sex. ‘Chris’ is staring at him, biting his lips red, little sounds of encouragement escaping.

    “Fuck, you're taking it so well, like you were made for my cock, made for taking it. So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous, Phil, wanna do this forever, fuck, yes, yes, Phil, god, please.”

Phil laughs eventually, sanity quickly slipping against the rhythm of ‘Chris’’ cock in his ass, so deep and hard. He holds on to ‘Chris’’ forearms in a desperate attempt to balance himself. He's so close he can taste it, even though it's the third one.

    “God, fuck, Phil, please tell me you're fucking close, I can't - unf, can't stave it off much longer, but I want you to come on my dick, please.” He's desperate, he's obviously so fucking desperate for it. Phil wraps a hand around his dick and tugs roughly, shaking with every touch. It's too much, too much, and he comes with a quiet scream, shuddering apart on top of ‘Chris’. ‘’Chris’ gasps, swears softly, bucking his hips once, twice more, before flipping them around roughly, pounding into Phil, who blissfully takes it.

‘Chris’ groans lowly in his throats as he comes, hips snapping of their own volition, teeth buried in the soft skin of Phil's neck. Then he stills, and they both just breathe for a couple minutes.

Eventually, ‘Chris’ pulls out, dragging against Phil's painfully sensitive rim. Phil is barely even awake anymore - he registers ‘Chris’ haphazardly wiping them off with the towel, and then he's out like a light, post-orgasmic tingles delivering him into the sweetest dreams he's had for a long time.

Phil wakes up gradually, the world slowly filtering back in. He’s only aware of the presence next to him as he’s almost completely awake.

‘Chris’ is still there, the morning light that’s coming through the windows making his hair glow, which should look stupid and take the saturation out of it, but of course he makes it work. He’s lying on his side, one elbow propped up to rest his chin in his hand, watching Phil with some sort of quiet amusement.

    “Good morning!”

He’s a morning person. Great.

    “I would’ve made you breakfast, but then I thought you might not want to wake up to a nuclear war zone, so I didn’t.”

He’s a person who talks in the morning. Fucking fantastic.

Phil lets his face fall back into the pillow, groaning softly. What kind of caveperson talks before half a liter of caffeine?

    “Not a morning person?” ‘Chris’ is obviously delighted.

    “Fuck you,” Phil muffles into the pillow.

    “Now, don’t be so eloquent, doctor.”

Phil wants to flip him off, but he also kind of wants to get laid again and maybe grab coffee with the guy later (and date him and kiss him every night and “how was your day, darling?”, but that’s besides the point). He’s awake enough to know that being rude might diminish his chances of seeing (feeling) ‘Chris’ in action again, and really, getting fucked into the mattress again (by the way: he’s sore in all the right places. It’d been quite a while.) is far, far better than giving in to his grumpy, morning hating self. Fuck, ‘Chris’ is talented.

    “It’s way too fucking early,” he accuses no-one in particular, and ‘Chris’ giggles.

    “It’s oh-nine-oh-eight.”

    “My point exactly.

‘Chris’ - god, he should really ask the guy for his real name - runs a teasing finger over Phil’s spine and Phil sighs, almost dozing off again.

    “Lucky for you -”. It’s hard to concentrate with the way ‘Chris’ is touching him, completely non-sexual, palm of his hand over Phil’s shoulder blades, but it feels great. “- I’m a good cook.”

    “And a vegetarian.”

Phil pushes himself up to glare at ‘Chris’.

    “So what?”

    “I’m afraid that puts a definite damper on our great, poetic romance.” ‘Chris’ is grinning, but a tiny, hopeful part of Phil feels punched in the gut. Oh. Okay. ‘Chris’ is … decidedly not interested then. (‘And why would he be? Jesus, Phil, get a grip!’)

Instead, he sighs in mock-defeat.

    “There’s also a café just around the corner, where they cater to carnivores as well. Make damn good coffee too.”

    “Fantastic.”

Phil rolls on his side and observes ‘Chris’. He’s hot, of course, but there’s something else there too, a hardness like steel. Definitely not anybody.

    “You never told me what you were at the party for,” he asks, a bit shy. ‘Chris’ doesn’t seem like the kind of person who likes divulging personal information.

    “Eh. Same as you. Drinks, a good time, finding someone to spend the night with.”

    “Which ship are you stationed on?”

‘Chris’ watches him warily. “A ‘fleet one.”

    “Is Chris your real name?”

He snorts. “Yeah. No worse turn off than your partner screaming out the wrong name during orgasm because you didn’t give them the right one.”

    “Right.”

    “You don’t believe me.”

    “No, of course I don’t.”

‘Chris’ shrugs. “Can’t help that, I’m afraid.” There’s a hint of something Phil doesn’t recognize in his eyes, dark and hard. “Look … I don’t want to, I don’t know, crush your hopes or anything, but I’m shipping out tomorrow and I’ve got a meeting this afternoon so … this is a one-time thing for me.”

Phil grins. “I know. Wish it wasn’t, ’cause hey, you’re hot and not completely stupid and a bomb in bed, too, and it’d be nice to have you waiting on me in nothing but an apron when I come home, but I guess it’s not meant to be.”

‘Chris’ laughs. “Seriously, you do not want me to touch a kitchen.”

    “Oh, I don’t eat much at home. I’m more interested in the mental picture of you in a tiny apron.”

    “Well, I’m much more interested in that café you were talking about.”

Phil shifts, morning erection dragging pleasantly against the sheets, and he wonders whether he can cajole ‘Chris’ into one last round of enthusiastic fucking.

    “See, here’s the problem: you’re going to leave me here, all alone, with nobody to fuck me as well as you did, so I think you should put out once more. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

‘Chris’ stares at him with wide eyes before beginning to laugh.

    “You have absolutely no shame, oh my god!”

Phil shrugs lazily. “Look, you’re damn good in the sack and this is probably the last time I’ll see you in my life; and once I have my assignment I’ll probably get stationed on the only ship in the ‘fleet where everyone is either ugly or female or straight or, if I, by some miracle, find someone willing to bang me, they’re probably not as good as you are. So I gotta make the most of having you in my bed.”

‘Chris’ chuckles and drags a hand over Phil’s spine, ending up with this fingers in his hair.

    “Well thank you for the endorsement.” He scoots closer and bites at Phil’s shoulder. “And if we’d spend more time together, you’d find out that the way into my heart really is through my stomach.” His fingers slide lower again, pushing back the sheet draped over Phil’s ass and gently dipping between his cheeks.

    “Fuck, you’re still wet.”

Phil stretches himself out some more. “Mhm. But if you go in without additional lube I’ll chop your dick off.”

‘Chris’ snorts. “Right, fine.”

He stretches out to the bedside table and grabs some, popping the cap one-handedly and lubing up his fingers. Phil moans and presses back against the intrusion. ‘Chris’ moves on top of him, and Phil spreads his legs readily, and then ‘Chris’ presses inside again. Phil buries his groan in the pillow. He’s sore from last night and of course ‘Chris’ managed to grab the heating lube, so there are a ton of sensations going on back there.

‘Chris’ settles, gasping hot breath onto Phil’s neck.

    “Fuck, you still feel so fucking good, so tight.”

Phil clenches and predictably, ‘Chris’ twitches and groans.

    “Come on, fuck me already.”

‘Chris’ growls and snaps his hips forward quickly, Phil crying out with the sudden sensation.

    “Aah, wait a second, now where was ... “ Chris trails off and twists a little, changing his angle until shoving in again. He hits Phil’s prostate, hard and hot and heavy, and begins pistoning his hips in and out, setting heavy bites all over Phil’s shoulders and neck, strong fingers encircling Phil’s wrists and holding them over his head while he fucks into him, and fuck, that is such a turn off, technically; being absolutely mercilessly held down, completely immobile, tripping pretty much every trigger of Phil’s, but Chris makes it work. Again, the incredible amount of trust Phil puts into this stranger should terrify him, but it’s hard to think when there’s a dick so hot and hard inside of him, rubbing over all the good spots, electricity shooting up Phil’s spine and heat pooling in his gut. Every thrust nudges his dick against some creases in the sheet, wet and sticky with precome already, rough enough to feel really damn good.

Phil comes sobbing into his pillow, knocking his hips back erratically and tightening around ‘Chris’, who doesn’t stop until he’s fucked Phil all the way through his orgasm. He comes with a low moan bitten into the side of Phil’s neck.

They both pant harshly for a couple minutes until ‘Chris’ rolls off of Phil, flopping onto his back.

    “Best ass in the galaxy, that’s for sure.”

Phil huffs. “Best dick in the galaxy.”

    “Why, thank you.”

Phil's stomach takes that as its cue to growl loudly, and they both laugh.

    “You wore me out,” Phil accuses.

    “You said you'd buy me breakfast,” ‘Chris’ counters.

    “That I did. Shower?”

    “Alone; I doubt it'd be a particularly productive one if we'd take it together.”

    “Fair. You go ahead, I'll try to find a shirt or a jacket that might fit you. Think I owe you, considering how I ripped your dress uniform. There should be a spare toothbrush in the dresser under the mirror.”

    “Cool, thanks.” And off Chris goes. It feels like the first goodbye. God, Phil really hopes it won't develop into a crush. He doesn't have the time to cry after a one night stand. Well. One night and one morning.

Breakfast with ‘Chris’ turns out to be hilarious. They talk about Starfleet cadets - unequivocally agreeing that they're the worst and when they were in that age, they were nowhere near as bad. They talk about the concept for the Lancelot class, which leads them to a discussion about space depression, which leads them to astrophysics, which Phil doesn't know too much about, but thoroughly enjoys ‘Chris’’ insights on.

It's like a date, except ‘Chris’ isn't interested and will be off planet tomorrow.

Phil gets an amazingly filthy parting kiss and the loose promise to hook up again when they maybe see each other on a Starbase, and then ‘Chris’ is gone like he was never there. Phil turns around and heads home.

His bedroom smells like them and the sheets are still damp with sweat. He should probably change them. (He doesn't.) There’s also ‘Chris’’ destroyed jacket hanging over the back of the couch. Phil picks it up and inhales the smell.

It's like ‘Chris’ changed his entire life just by fucking Phil into the mattress twice.

He’s a bit late for his shift, but he hopes nobody will notice

    “Well someone got laid tonight,” Martha says as way of greeting, smiling cheerfully. The elderly couple she seems to be talking to at the moment fluster immediately, and so does Phil. He loves Martha, trusts her implicitly, and if he had to name a favorite nurse he’d name her without a moment’s hesitation, and he also considers her one of his few close close friends. But that doesn’t mean that such crudeness in public embarasses him any less.

    “Tell me all about him later!”

He tries to ignore her, cheeks on fire, and ducks into his office.

She shows up a few minutes later, carrying a steaming mug of coffee as an apology. He wants to glare at her and be angry so, so badly.

    “So!” She scoots close to him with the chair she appropriated. “I’m incredibly happy your bad case of blue balls is now alleviated, and you have the bearing of a man who had the time of his life, not to mention a lovely looking, barely covered hickie, so it must’ve been a very special guy if you let him mark you up. Tell me!”

Phil sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s scalding hot and perfect.

    “He was perfect. Tall, built, gorgeous blond hair, long enough to play with, beautiful grey eyes … smart. Teasing. Great smile. Fantastic voice. Skilled fingers. A god in bed. Literally sex on legs. The second I put eyes on him I knew I wanted him.” Phil groans and hides his face in his hands.

    “Oh my god, Philip. You’re in love!”

    “I’m not in love, Martha, come on, I just met the guy. I don’t even know his name!”

    “Wait what?”

    “I just - I don’t know, I felt something with him.”

She giggles. “Yeah, from the way you can’t sit still I bet you felt something.”

He throws a stylus at her.

    “No, seriously. There was something. I trusted him pretty much immediately. It was like .. not like we were meant to be or something, just … I trusted him.”

    “Wow. Okay. Are you sure he didn’t slip you something?”

Phil’s mind flashes back to ‘Chris’ stealing the sugar from the rim of his glass, the only time the other man touched his drink. Could he …? But no, Phil hadn’t touched his drink after that.

    “I know it’s stupid. But … there was something. I liked him.” He sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll see him again one day. Those command types get themselves injured all the time, and if I really do get assigned to a ‘ship - I don’t know, I might meet him again.”

    “At the very least you got laid.”

    “Yeah, and I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of my life. Man, he was fantastic.”

    “Dick size?”

    “Oh for - Martha!”

    “What?! A girl is allowed to be curious!”

    “Like I said, he was perfect. Beautiful, gorgeous, everything you could ever want. Exactly who I’d hoped to find. Mmh.” Phil pillows his head on his arms and stares into the distance. “God, he was gorgeous. And funny. We had breakfast together this morning, and … whoever he was, he was hilarious and smart and witty and I want to talk to him forever. Fuck, maybe I am in love.”

Martha snickers again. “Sounds like you had the time of your life, and some very well deserved rec time.”

    “That I did, that I did …” Phil trails off, remembering the way ‘Chris’ kisses, subtly incredibly dominant, and part of Phil wants to put him in his place, make him do what Phil wants, hear him beg.

Martha pats him on the shoulder. “I gotta go back out - we’re a bit understaffed today. You enjoy your daydream. Don’t forget your rounds!”

Phil nods, still a little spaced out. He’ll never forget those eyes. Hard, but also filled with mirth, and not the quiet enjoyment Phil gets from life … something different, something more energetic. And those hands, fuck, those hands.

His first assignment is the Regulus, a heavy duty border patrol ship, some good twenty years old and more than needing a refit. The officers are more brawny than Phil imagined, hard on the edges and not too welcoming of him, even though he manages to bring the yearly fatalities down to twelve percent, which is stunning for the kind of work the Regulus does. She gets into more firefights per year than the average starship in her lifetime and due to a lack of patrol ships she’s falling more and more into disrepair, Starfleet only ever sending out new hands to restaff.

It’s … not what Phil imagined. Not what he wanted. Of course everyone dreams of being assigned to a shiny new ship, discover exciting planets and space anomalies; he knew that the reality would look quite different, but he hadn’t thought it would look so drab and dark.

He gets the recommendation for CMO onboard a deep space cruiser within two years, the Regulus’ CMO immediately fond of him, but it takes another three years until he’s transferred - back to Earth, where he waits for another eight months for his ship, the Yorktown to be completed and her captain to end their current assignment. He uses his time to complete the psychology degree he’d been working on for a while, and then he spends his time at ‘fleet Medical, reconnecting with old colleagues and friends. Martha worms out of him that yes, he had actively been searching for Chris’es to have sex with, if at all, but that he hadn’t found his Chris again, and she laughs a lot.

    “You know, what if he’s your new captain? You are reassigned, right?”

    “God, I hope not. And yes, I’ll be on the Yorktown, once they manage to complete her. She’s six months overdue by now.”

    “No way! The Yorktown! She’s a pretty one. Starfleet’s pride and joy.”

    “Yeah … can’t be worse than the Regulus.”

Martha waves a hand in dismissal. “Heavy duty border patrol vehicle that’s older than my grandma. Please. Everything is better than those.”

Phil finally gets the summons for the staff meeting three days later. Ironically, his captain is named Chris - Christopher Pike. He doesn’t bother looking up the guy’s face because hey, what even are the chances? He’s (mostly) over ‘Chris’ anyways, only keeping the memories alive for lonely nights. He might have a lot of those, so the memories are very alive, but that doesn’t matter.

When he walks into the meeting room a bit too early, all decked out in his uniform, hair not as messy as he usually keeps it, there’s only one occupant so far. He’s sprawled in the chair at the head, fiddling with a PADD, and the two full and one half stripes denounce him to be Phil’s new captain. He looks up as Phil enters the room, a lock of burnished blond hair that’s a bit longer than regulation allows falling into his eyes. His eyes lock onto Phil, and it’s different now that they’re in a professional environment and not at a party, but there’s no doubt that Captain Pike is ‘Chris’.

Phil’s heart misses a beat. He remembers Chris on his knees, swallowing down his dick; how he mouthed at Phil’s neck; the sounds he made when he pushed inside of Phil; his quiet endorsements as he watched Phil fuck himself on his dick; his face when he came.

The room is stifling all of a sudden, dress uniform choking him and what would he say anyways?

More importantly, what does he do, just walk up to the guy and say hi and pretend he isn’t hard as a rock in his pants? Beg him for a repeat performance? Just get on his knees? Fuck, Chris - Captain Pike probably doesn’t even remember!

Chr- Pike sets the PADD down with a flourish.

    “Doctor Boyce! Fantastic to meet you!” He’s still all boyish grin, but he grew into those long limbs some more, put on some more muscle, voice just a hint deeper, grip on Phil’s hand sure and strong.

    “Captain Pike,” he manages, dizzy with Chris’ presence.

Lieutenant Commander Number One’s entrance somewhat saves Phil and gives him a moment to breathe as Pike goes to greet her.

He doesn’t know how he keeps his head level throughout the meeting, and his entire trip home is filled with nothing but Chris. It’s not at all hard to find the resemblance between Chris and Captain Pike, and Phil wonders what he’d be like now, with almost six years more experience. He really shouldn’t think things like this about his CO, especially not his brand new CO, but he wants so badly.

A quick image search gives him tons of beautiful, beautiful pictures of Pike, and he randomly selects one to send to Martha.

She replies only moments later: So, um, surprise, but that dude isn’t just pretty damn cute, but also my new captain … surprise? I got myself assigned and we’ll see each other on the Yorktown!!

Phil stares at that message for a minute.

What?!

                                           Yeah, I know :P

                                            But he’s cute, isn’t he?

Martha … he’s Chris

She rings him immediately.

    “That Chris?” she asks, mouth vaguely o-shaped.

    “Yeah.”

    “Oh my god,” she gasps. “Oh my god! What are you going to do?!”

Phil runs a hand over his face.

    “Fuck if I know.”

    “Does he remember?”

Does he? It didn’t seem like he did. Probably he doesn’t, since it’s been six years. Who would remember (other than a sociophobe with no considerable sex life)?

    “Uh, I don’t think so… It’s probably for the better. I’m happy you’ll be on the Yorktown though!”

    “Oh nononono, don’t make this about me. Phil what are you going to do? How do you even stand being in a room with the one guy you’ve been thinking about for more than half a decade?”

    “Like I said, I don’t know. I probably embarrassed myself majorly in the staff meeting, and I could barely think straight or take my eyes off him. It was bad. I have no idea how to survive on a ship with him, but I can’t get a reassignment either.”

    “Philip. Seriously, if you’d get a reassignment, I’d kill you myself. CMO onboard the new flagship is the best thing for your career you could think of, and it’s what you deserve. You just have to find a way to get that damn captain out of your mind.”

Phil sighs. “I know. I just … don’t know how, I feel like I’m in too deep.”

    “The Yorktown is big enough and you’ll have enough work that you won’t see him too often, and I’ll do everything I can to find a beautiful young lieutenant you can focus your affections on. You’ll be fine.”

    “You do realize that frat regs are still a thing? The only people on the ship that I can legally sleep with are the captain or the first officer. Because we’re the only three people of equal power, so to speak. If one of them goes nuts and the other one follows suit because they’re in love with them, the third person can stop them, and so forth.”

Martha shrugs. “Alright, bang the first officer, problem solved.”

    “She’s female.”

    “Oh. Well, sucks for you, um … I suppose becoming heterosexual all of a sudden isn’t going to happen?”

Phil grins despite himself. “At the very least it’d be difficult.”

    “Hm. That sucks.”

It does. Because the problem isn’t that Phil found the guy he’s been lusting after for years; it isn’t that this guy is his superior; it is that he’s now even hotter than before, pure sex on legs, seemingly no memory of Phil, and Phil will have to work closely with the guy. He is so fucked.

He spends a while scrolling through the pictures of Chr- of Pike. They’re all official, so he’s in uniform and often in dress uniform. Commendation for this, Medal of Honor for that, looking always either lovely, sometimes cute, and always hot as fuck. Phil stops at one that seems oddly familiar. Christopher Pike, promoted to captain. Phil stares at the uniform he’s wearing in the picture, stares at the stardate and connects the dots. He’d picked Chris up from his own promotion party, ripped his brand new dress uniform and had incredibly hot and incredibly filthy sex with him. They’d done it without barrier film. Hell, Phil hadn’t even gotten himself checked afterwards. Starfleet’s youngest, best and brightest captain - and Phil still had the promotion dress uniform.

And it’s not like Christopher Pike is the only Pike Phil has ever heard about. There’s Commodore Pike, now admiral, who single-handedly hardassed his way to a fantastic resolution of the Beluga incident; Charlotte Pike, probably Chris’ mother, a brilliant biologist with a focus on underdeveloped humanoid species; Honorary Commander Pike, first name probably Marsha, one of Starfleet’s most esteemed lawyers; Grace and Helby Pike, twins, the best navigator-pilot team in the ‘fleet; and those are just the one’s Phil remembers ad hoc.

So he hadn’t been that wrong about Chris probably having a trust fund.

Phil sighs and sets the PADD aside. God, he hopes he can somehow make it through his service under Chris Pike without the man finding out about Phil’s infatuation. Or, heh, he’d also gladly serve under him the other way.

He glares at Phil Junior, who has been tremendously interested ever since Phil found the pictures. Well, fuck. Time to get the jacket then. Not that it still smells of Chris at all, but it has come in very … handy.

Yes, Phil is that pathetic. Ugh.

And if he’s not completely wrong, it won’t be the last time he accidentally gasps out his new CO’s name when he comes.

look at it it’s my (current) fave child!! 

i hope you enjoyed it... it’ll be on ao3 uhh eventually :p

prompts are still open btw, i’m just chipping away at one of them currently, and it’s not doing what it’s supposed to, but eh. (also if you wanna shoot some spuhura my way i’d love you forever!!)

[wildflowerhowell]

I Found, chapter 5

Dan Howell and Phil Lester hate each other, and everyone at the Ida Gatley school of dance knows it. So what happens when the two are paired together to choreograph and perform a duet at England’s most renowned contemporary dance competition?

word count (in total): 22,139

chapters: 12

genre: fluff and angst

tw: none

read on ao3

all chapters

Dan sat on the edge of the merry go round, using his feet to rock himself side to side. Whenever he needed some time to think, he came to the playground near his house. The sky was overcast and there wasn’t a person in sight: it was perfect.

Lately, Dan had been entertaining the thought of giving his spot at the Grasp competition to someone else. He knew anyone else would say he was crazy for even thinking about it, but no one else knew the type of relationship that he had with Phil. They hadn’t even started choreographing yet and they were already driving each other crazy. Dan had to keep reminding himself that it would all be over in about a month, and the overall experience of the competition would be worth it. But he still couldn’t shake the desire to quit.

“Dan? Hey!” Dan heard the voice of Blair, one of the dancers in his contemporary class.

“Oh, hey Blair.”

“Can I sit?” Blair stood with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, waiting for an answer.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Dan moved a bit to the right to make room for the other dancer. “What’s up?”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something, so I guess I got lucky today.” Blair leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.

“You telling me you wanna talk to me is a little daunting,” Dan laughed, “But go ahead. What is it?”

“So I know this is none of my business, and you don’t have to answer, but Grasp is pretty much right around the corner and things between you and Phil aren’t exactly great.”

Dan chuckled. “Tell me about it.”

“What are you gonna do about the situation between you two?”

“I’ll probably just get the competition over with and then let things go back to normal. To be honest, I considered giving my spot to someone else-”

“That’s insane! Dude, you won’t do that, right?”

“No, I’m gonna compete. I decided to suck it up; it’s only a month until Grasp anyways.”

“Thank god.” Blair let out a sigh of relief. “So like, why do you hate Phil? He seems pretty nice to me.”

“I don’t know….” Dan wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Blair everything he felt towards Phil, but he should probably tell someone, and Blair was asking. “I guess we’ve just had this rivalry since we were kids, y’know? I always wanted to be better than him, but whenever I improved, he did too. Eventually, we just started being… mean. And it was always about being better than the other, it still is.”

“But doesn’t that ever get tiring? Always being aware of Phil and his skill level and everything he can do and shit like that?”

“Oh, it’s exhausting.” Dan laughed softly.

“But like, does the rivalry even mean anything anymore?”

“I mean yeah, I still feel like I’ve gotta be better than him. But I think that’s just because I can get pretty competitive and this thing has been going on for so long. But now, it’s also because I just can’t let him have the last laugh. And he probably feels the same way. So it seems like we’ll be stuck in this loop until one of us leaves the studio, and God knows when that will be.”

“Do you think you could ever be friends with him?”

“Oh God no, he’s done some pretty petty shit, I wouldn’t wanna be friends with anyone who’d do that kind of stuff. And besides, we’re far too different.”

“Have you ever even had an actual conversation with him? How would you know?”

“Not really…but-”

“And have you ever considered that he might want to actually get to know you?”

Dan turned his whole body to look at Blair. He squinted, looking the other boy over. “Dude, I’m telling you all this because I trust you, but why are you interrogating me like this? Phil didn’t ask you to talk to me, did he?”

Blair put his hands up and laughed. “He didn’t put me up to this, I swear.” The dancer put his hands back down. “I’m just curious. And you two have to spend a lot of time together this month. Well, more than normal. I was just hoping you guys could maybe… settle your differences. So that the competition isn’t completely agonizing, of course.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dan was a little confused, but he thought it was probably best for him to talk about all that with someone.

Blair’s phone buzzed and he checked it. “Shit, my mum’s got dinner ready, gotta go.”

“Alright, um, nice talk.” Dan watched Blair as he stood up and started walking away from the playground.

“See you in contemporary!” Blair waved and Dan, feeling a little dazed, waved back. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Phil:

-can you meet me at the studio in 15 minutes? we need to start choreographing.

-15 minutes is a bit short notice, don’t you think?

-can you meet me or not

-Yeah, sure

And with that, Dan walked back to his house, changed into a t shirt and his favorite red dance shorts, got in his car, and drove to IGSD. When he got there, he tried the door before unlocking it to see if Phil had gotten there before him. Sure enough, it was unlocked.

I’m five minutes early, did Phil really have to beat me here? Then Dan remembered Phil once saying that he lives just a few minutes away. Why do I remember that? Whatever, Dan dismissed the thought, let’s get this over with. Dan walked into the studio to find Phil warming up at the barre.

“Start stretching, I’ve got plans later and I don’t wanna take too long.”

“Hello to you too,” Dan said sarcastically as he set his things down on one of the benches by the mirror (in which he caught Phil rolling his eyes.)

Once the two dancers were stretched, they played the song a few times and started brainstorming ideas. They tried out different poses and jumps and lifts (although they wouldn’t actually talk to each other most of the time, they were perfectly comfortable with physical contact while dancing. Grabbing each other by the hand or leaning against each other’s back was totally normal at this point.)

“How about you take a few steps stage right and I lunge out and grab your waist and pull you back?”

“Okay, I actually like that. Let’s try it to see if the pace matches the music. When you pull me back, I’ll walk behind you and grab your right hand to get you standing again?”

“Ooh, that’s good,” Dan said as he started the music. The beats in the song matched up with all the reaches and pulls, and the dancers loved it.

“Yes!” Phil exclaimed. “That’s a strong start to the dance, the judges will love it.”

“We don’t even know who the judges are, they could have a completely different style.”

“Doesn’t matter, they’ll still love it.”

The two boys worked for another hour. They agreed on pretty much everything, the only arguments they had were whether they should do a triple pirouette or a quadruple pirouette and what kind of costume would best fit the choreography (Dan wanted a flowy shirt, Phil wanted a tight one. They decided on figuring that out when they’d actually finished the dance.)

“Shit, it’s 6:32.” Phil looked down at the clock on his phone. “I need to shower before I meet my friends. I should head out. You can keep working if you want to.”

“Nah, I think it would be better if we worked together for the whole thing. I’m gonna go home and watch Netflix or something.” Dan sat on the bench to catch his breath and grab a drink of water from his water bottle.

“Nice. Well, uh, this wasn’t terrible.”

“Um, yeah, we actually made progress.” Dan wasn’t sure how to act. He’d never had an interaction with Phil that didn’t end in the urge to punch him or that wasn’t already horrible to begin with.

“Text me when you can choreograph again?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dan called out as Phil left the room.

Dan had to sit there for a minute, wondering if that had really happened. He and Phil hadn’t had a real fight. There was no yelling or belittling. It was kind of nice. Dan knew it was probably a one-time thing, but he couldn’t help but wish his time spent with Phil could be like that more often.

~

Dan lazily walked over to his front door after he heard the knock that he knew came from Liam on the other side. He’d sent a quick text to his best friend half an hour ago asking if he wanted to spend the night, wanting someone to talk to other than Charlie (who was too busy playing video games anyways.)

“Dan!” Liam pulled his friend into a quick hug before starting to follow him into the house, “What’s up?”

“Eh, not much. I felt like hanging out with someone but I’m pretty sure Charlie’s so far into his game that he can’t even see or hear me, so….” Dan led Liam into the kitchen, having his sit on one of the bar stools while he searched the fridge for something to eat. “Cereal good with you?” When he saw his friend nod, he reached up into a cupboard for two bowls.

“You ready for school tomorrow?” Liam groaned and rested his head on his hand as Dan sat down next to him, placing the bowls down onto the breakfast bar.

“Ugh, no. I swear, Mrs. McElroy is trying to get me to fail. She didn’t teach half of what was on that last test.”

“Or you just didn’t study?”

“I mean…it’s not my fault if I have to dance for hours after school every day. Sometimes I just don’t have time to study.” Dan watched as Liam laughed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you got a good grade regardless. You always do.”

“Oh, whatever.”

“So,” Liam said with a mouth full of cereal, “Did you have dance today?”

“Not really. I didn’t have actual class, but Phil and I started choreographing.”

“Oh god, how was that?”

“It actually wasn’t terrible?”

Liam looked over at Dan with a surprised look on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, he was a prick at first, but we were actually able to get shit done without constantly yelling at each other or doing something petty. It was weird.”

“Hmm. Do you think it’ll be like that again?”

“I don’t really know? I mean, this was the first time Phil and I have actually been able to get along so I can’t really know for sure. But I will admit that it was much better than fighting.”

“Woooow,” Liam sounded half-sarcastic, half-genuinely amazed, “I never thought I’d hear you say anything remotely similar to that.”

“You’d think that after eight years at IGSD, we’d discover that fighting doesn’t solve all of our problems. Well, I say that, but Phil and I are probably just gonna go back to fighting the next time we see each other.” Dan sighed, moving his spoon around with his finger, not hungry anymore, “I guess it was nice while it lasted.”

Liam raised his eyebrows at Dan. “You’ve gotta lemme know how it goes, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You full? I wanna go watch more of those vine compilations.”

“You two will abso-fucking-lutely not watch any more of those,” Charlie shouted from his seat in the lounge, “I think my eardrums burst the last time!”

“Why do you even care? You tune everything out when you play video games anyways. I’m surprised you could even hear us just now, to be honest.”

“The one thing I can’t tune out is those god-forsaken vine compilations. I’m scarred for life, Dan.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dan said as he carried both of the bowls over to the sink to rinse them out.

As Liam left the kitchen and began to walk towards the hallway that led to his friend’s bedroom, Dan couldn’t help but worry that there wouldn’t be another day that he and Phil would behave as they did today. Sure, if there was another time that they didn’t fight, it would most likely be in a year or so. But still, Dan wouldn’t mind waiting a year if it meant another brief truce with Phil.

[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.