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phantasticworks · 5 years ago

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Fallin’ All In You

Finally I finished the fic I started for @laurainlilac like a week ago (im so sorry it took me forever i got carried away) This is based on her lovely phanart of dnp as angels and i loved it and had to write a one shot for it. So thank you for letting me take your beautiful art as inspiration yet again Laura ily u r the bomb dot com

read on ao3

Words: 19k

Description: Dan is a Fallen Angel. He's been alone in life and death, but maybe this friendly blue eyed Angel is about to shake his world up a little.

Warnings: mentions of suicide and murder (but nothing explicit and no gory details of either), smut, light angst, and swearing as usual

Dan was alone.

That went without saying, honestly, as that was basically the story of his life up until this moment. He sighed, kicking the heels of his feet back against the worn brick. It was silly, honestly, to be sat on the edge of some rooftop, overlooking a garden party with a detached sense of longing in his chest. He wasn’t a part of this. He knew that. He was aware that the laughter and music below was a vestige of a life he was no longer allowed, but that didn’t ease the sting of his loneliness.

He watches sullenly as the girls danced around in their sundresses, giggling and calling to their lovers, who stood idly by drinking and laughing at their antics. Dan found it incredibly heteronormative, the idea of a typical wedding scene such as the one he found himself taking audience of, but who was he to judge the mortals on their customs? He wasn’t one of them, so his opinion didn’t matter on the subject.

“You don’t always have to sit on the sidelines, you know,” a cheerful voice announces from behind him, interrupting the calm silence of the evening around him.

Dan startles, pitching forward in surprise at the sound. Before he has the chance to actually make it over the side, there’s a tugging on the collar of his shirt, and he finds himself being tugged backwards. “Careful. That’s a nasty fall, mate.” The voice is full of amusement at this point, and Dan shrugs the hand off his shirt with a grimace.

The body belonging to the voice settles itself beside Dan, matching his position with his feet hanging off the side of the building. Dan allows himself a moment just to look, and if he were still alive he’s certain his face would flush at the way the other man’s eyes immediately meet his, a knowing smirk on his face. “Not for me,” Dan mutters in response to the man’s previous statement, struggling to keep his composure.

The man tilts his head then, his black hair shifting from its quiff to fall down just slightly. Dan follows the movement with his eyes before bringing his gaze back to meet the blue eyes that are locked on him. “Would I be wrong to assume that you wouldn’t make it to the bottom?” The man asks gently, a knowing look swimming in the blue of his eyes.

Dan shifts his stare to settle on the party still raging below. He clears his throat before answering. “You’d be right.” He nods curtly.

The man hums from beside him. Dan doesn’t have a chance to wonder what the soft noise means, because then the man is speaking. “I’m Philip,” he says easily, holding his hand out as if to shake Dan’s. The action is so comically human that Dan doesn’t even know what to do other than just stare. Philip awkwardly drops his hand then.

“Daniel,” Dan responds belatedly, giving his full name only because the other man had done the same.

“You can call me Phil, if you want.” The same hand he’d just dropped comes back up to run through his hair, pushing the quiff back up to attention.

Dan snorts. “You’re implying that I’ll be around you enough to call you anything.”

Phil laughs and his head tilts back with the action, the noise bouncing around the roof area. Dan’s gaze flickers nervously to the crowd below, but he’s fairly sure that the man beside him is Concealed, too.

“I like you,” Phil says jovially. “You’re feisty.”

“I think that’s probably an insult, but thanks anyway,” Dan responds dryly.

A smile carves itself out on Phil’s face, and it takes Dan a moment to tear his gaze away from the way the other man’s tongue sticks out between his teeth. He looked completely goofy, but Dan’s stomach twists with something he hadn’t felt since before he’d died.

“It wasn’t an insult. It was a backhanded compliment,” Phil informs him proudly, his happiness unwavering.

Dan rolls his eyes at this and moves his hands from his lap to grip the bricks on either side of his thighs, leaning over the side and staring down at the ground forlornly.

“Careful,” Phil warns softly from beside him. When Dan glances over at him, he sees that smile has fallen. “I know you can fly, but…” He trails off, his gaze focused on the ground below them. If Dan didn’t know that this man was an immortal being, he’d probably think that the expression on his face was fear. But as it was, he’d deduced that this man was an Angel, and he knew that it was silly to fear heights if you were a being who had the gift of flight.

“You seem to think I’m dumb enough to launch myself off the side and forget to spread my wings,” Dan deadpans, unamused at what he saw as a subtle insult to his intelligence.

“I don’t think you’re dumb.” Phil shakes his head in disagreement. He grimaces then, his gaze flickering from Dan’s face down to his hands. Dan loosens his grip on the brick then, hyperaware of the attention that’s on him. “I think you’re sad.”

The words are like a slap to the face. Dan can’t even move his mouth to argue at first, he’s so surprised. Here’s a virtual stranger, practically psychoanalyzing him after basically five minutes of knowing him. What’s worse is that, he’s actually right.

But Dan isn’t about to admit that.

He straightens his back, huffing as he drops his hands to the rips in his jeans, sliding his fingers under the strings and pulling gently. “That’s pretty bold for you to say to someone you just met,” he says bitingly.

“Am I wrong?” Phil asks gently, his gaze soft.

Dan clenches his jaw and faces the other way pointedly. He didn’t know who this guy thought he was, but he wasn’t about to sit here and listen to his opinion on something he knew nothing about.

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Suddenly, anger flares up in Dan’s chest. This man didn’t know him. They’d just met, and even if they did have the whole immortal being thing in common, Dan knew that there was something huge separating them, something that Phil likely already knew.

“Why are you talking to me?” He demands, leaving little room for an argument. “I know you know.”

Phil tilts his head again, clearly studying him. “Know what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Dan seethes. “It doesn’t suit you.”

A chuckle spills from the lips of the man seated next to him, and Dan frowns. He was being serious, this was not a time for laughter. “Really, Dan?” He questions, sounding far more amused than he has any right to.

“Why are you still here talking to me?” Dan asks again, feeling almost pained at this point.

“Do you want me to leave?” Phil inquires, quirking an eyebrow.

Dan huffs, kicking the brick a little harder. “I don’t care what you do,” he mumbles.

“Really?” Phil is clearly hiding a smile, and Dan is having none of it. “You sound like you’ve got an opinion on it.”

“I don’t want your pity,” Dan suddenly snaps. Something about the way Phil was still sat there talking to him, despite knowing what Dan was (and Dan knew that he had to know by now) just pissed him off. He didn’t need this, he really didn’t.

“You don’t have it,” Phil replies easily.

Dan snorts. “Then what the hell do you call this?” He asks, gesturing between the two of them wildly.

Phil surveys him. “A friendly conversation,” he finally says, smiling brightly.

Rolling his eyes, Dan flicks a rock off the building. “I don’t have friends,” he mumbles. The “I don’t have anybody,” was unspoken.

A silence settles over them as Phil seems to consider this. Dan has a moment to run his gaze over Phil’s white clothes, and he nearly snorts. Typical angel, dressed all in white. He glares down at the black clothes clinging to his own body and thinks maybe he’s feeding into the stereotype as well.

“Would you like to have one?” Phil asks eventually, his voice soft.

Dan prickles at the question. “No,” he snaps, annoyed. “I’m alone, and I like it. I like being alone.”

“No one likes being alone,” Phil insists with an eyeroll of his own.

“I do,” Dan spits. He’s had enough of the conversation, and he pushes himself to his feet with far more grace than he would have had as a human.

A thought occurs to him as he turns to leave, a twisted one. He smirks as he feels his wings expanding from just below his shoulder blades. They spread out elegantly, he’s sure, the black feathers probably melting into the darkness around them. He’s almost positive this will be it. Phil’s eyes will widen in fear as he realizes, since he apparently hasn’t already. He’ll likely stutter out some form of prayer, and Dan would likely scoff, or gag, at the sound of it.

Dan’s so sure about the reaction he’s expecting, he nearly trips when he realizes Phil’s face hasn’t changed, not a bit. His eyes merely drift over Dan’s tapered feathers, so dark they look like they’ve been dipped in ink, with barely a twitch.

Swallowing down his annoyance about the reaction he didn’t get, Dan crosses his arms, lifting his wings even higher. “See? I don’t have friends. And I like it that way.”

Phil’s eyebrows furrow in a way that’s almost cute, and Dan frowns at the word as it passes through his thoughts. This Angel wasn’t cute. He wasn’t.

Assuming his lapse in judgement is due to the length of time he’d spent being annoyed by the man, Dan turns to leave, still in the middle of deciding whether or not he felt like flying.

Just as Dan reaches the edge of the roof, Phil speaks again. “You may like being alone, but no one likes being lonely.”

This causes Dan to pause, and he very nearly turns around to argue about it. There’s a loud commotion below, though, followed by laughter, and he takes that as his cue to leave.

“Bye, Dan. Enjoy your night,” Phil calls, his voice bouncing across the rooftop to reach Dan’s ears.

Ignoring his sentiment, Dan launches himself off the side of the building, allowing his body the moment of panic it still held to, even in death, before expanding his wings for flight. Even all these years later, it still amazed him how almost-human he was, minus the fact that when he was in his natural form he had two gigantic black wings. The almost-human part of him even longed to cast one last look over his shoulder at Phil, and just study his features one last time.

He doesn’t look back.

~~~

Dan would be lying to himself if he said he completely forgot about meeting the strange Angel after a few weeks had passed. As a matter of fact, it seemed like he could think of very little else. He hated it, but he couldn’t help but think about those blue eyes, darker in the shadows than they’d be in the light of day. The almost-human part of Dan foolishly longed to see them that way, but the part that knew what he was dismissed it. Phil knew he was a Fallen now, there was no way he’d ever want anything to do with Dan now.

Not that Dan wanted that anyway. He didn’t. He really didn’t.

Despite how much he definitely did not want that, Dan couldn’t seem to keep wondering what Phil did in his spare time, which Dan knew from experience that he had a lot of. Being an Angel sounded like a great gig until the whole dying and being alone for eternity bit kicks in. But Dan wasn’t bitter or anything. Of course not.

Besides, why be bitter when now he had all the time in the world to travel the world, as well as a free way to do it? Financially free, at least, because the physical toll flying took on his almost-human self definitely came at too high a cost.

Rather than fly all the time, Dan actually preferred to walk. Sometimes he’d even go so far as being Unconcealed to walk among the humans, and once or twice he’d even spoken to passersby. But as a general rule, he preferred to stay away from them. It only made the reality of how alone he truly was sink in, and he needed that even less than he needed to be thinking about Phil.

Today, Dan was Concealed. He’d been in Dublin for a few days and was considering leaving, but he’d yet to decide where he would go. So, as if it would help his thought process, he was strolling around a park, by himself as usual. This time he wasn’t even privy to the lives of passing humans, as it was late enough that none of them were out and about. It being January probably didn’t help things, either, considering how cold it was. Luckily, Dan couldn’t feel the cold, so he wasn’t bothered by the slight breeze as he followed the path through the greenery.

He’d been there for an hour or longer, he wasn’t sure; time moved differently when you were dead and it didn’t matter. He almost wished he could stay until the spring, when all the trees would be in bloom, but he knew he was too restless to stay in one place for so long. Despite the fact that he probably didn’t take full advantage of his gift of flight, he couldn’t handle how stir-crazy he got after spending more than a few weeks in one place.

The idea of settling somewhere and attempting to have a quasi-normal human life had occurred to him before, but he didn’t think he was strong enough to watch the humans around him die. Or maybe, the deeper and more angsty part of his brain suggests, it was just because he couldn’t stand the idea of them leaving him feeling even more alone than he already felt.

Either way, it was a rubbish idea, one that really didn’t even appeal to him. The idea of settling and having some kind of family just disgusted him. Truly.

He pauses at a lake, his eyes roaming over the still water. He finds himself wishing, again, that it was warmer, so that he’d at least have some ducks or something to look at. The water was pretty, but something about the stillness was just unnerving.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a pleasant voice comes from behind him.

Dan startles, his steps faltering as he tries to place the voice. It doesn’t take long for him to recognize who it is, and he struggles to decide whether or not he’s happy or annoyed about it. Sparing a glance to the side, where Phil has suddenly appeared, Dan raises an unamused eyebrow. “Are you following me or something now?” He asks with a snort.

Phil smiles at him, an adorable little grin that has Dan struggling to look away. “Why? Would that freak you out or would you be into that?”

The question has Dan stumbling on the path, his eyes widening at the obviously flirty tone. “What?” He nearly screeches.

“Like, if I were following you,” Phil explains, brushing a strand of hair back into his quiff. “I’m not, by the way, but some people... are, you know... Into that.”

Dan stares at him, his mouth opening and closing awkwardly as he ponders how to respond to that. “Stalking?” Dan asks incredulously.

Phil nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You’re asking me if I’m into stalking?” Dan deadpans.

“Yeah?” Phil asks slowly, almost unsurely.

“You’re weird,” Dan says, shaking his head.

Phil smiles brightly at him. “Thank you!” He says cheerfully.

Dan studies his side profile for a moment, his thoughts jumbled as he tries to figure out why Phil is there, talking to him again. Before Dan even has a chance to vocalize this question, Phil is sighing, looking up at the sky with almost a dreamy expression.

“I love how the sky looks this time of day,” Phil says softly, his eyes not leaving the view as he speaks.

Dan glances up, surveying the sky with a small frown. “It’s not bad I guess. I prefer the dark.”

Phil grins at this, nudging Dan with his elbow. “Of course you do,” he teases.

Ignoring the tightness in his chest, Dan huffs in mock annoyance. Truly the banter didn’t bother him, and he’d even go as far as saying that he enjoyed it, but that was one thing he just wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

“Wanna sit?” Dan asks, gesturing awkwardly at a bench as they pass it. He almost hopes that Phil says no, just so he doesn’t have to feel the obnoxious fluttery feeling in his chest any longer. Just almost.

Phil sends him a smile, nodding eagerly. “I’d love to.” He veers off the path first, taking a seat closer to the middle of the bench, rather than sitting on one side.

Dan bites his lip as he assesses how little space will be left between them, but he’s already asked, so he can’t back out now. As gracefully as he can, he sits beside Phil, keeping his arms and legs tucked close to his body so he doesn’t accidentally brush against Phil. That would just be too awkward, even for him.

If Phil notices his uncomfortable position, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he begins humming something under his breath, leaning back and surveying the trees around them. Soon it would be rather dark, much too dark for any humans to be outside, but another one of the perks afforded to them was the gift of significantly better eyesight, so Dan knew that it wouldn’t be a problem for them.

“What are you singing?” Dan asks softly after a few moments, unable to sit in silence with the other man.

Phil glances over at him, tilting his head. “I don’t know what it’s called. It’s some new song, I keep hearing it in shops and things.” He waves a hand dismissively, but he has a questioning look in his eyes. “Do you not follow the human music scene?”

Dan laughs once, without humor. “I used to, when I was one of them.”

“Yeah? What kind of music did you like?” Phil seems to be trying his damnedest to engage Dan in some sort of conversation where he has to share things about himself, and although friendship is clearly the intent, Dan hates the idea of doing it.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He bursts, unable to keep the question from spilling out. It’s what’s been on his mind since the last time he’d seen Phil, and he needed answers. “I know you know I’m a Fallen. So, what gives?”

Phil has a sad look on his face as he surveys Dan’s face. Carefully, he raises a hand and brushes a single curl out of Dan’s eye. Dan resists the shiver it invokes. “Do I have to have an ulterior motive to be kind to you?”

Dan shifts away, unsubtly. “In my experience, yes,” he admits, trying to control his breathing. He can tell he’s about to go from being annoyed to angry, and he needs to keep that under control. Phil hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d really only done everything right, and that was the problem.

Apparently his answer is the wrong one, because Phil’s lips dip down in a frown. Dan doesn’t miss the sympathy there, and he wants to scoff at him. He didn’t need his pity. “I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just want to be your friend,” Phil says quietly, his voice dripping with sincerity. Dan nearly gags at that.

Even still, he feels the uncomfortable sinking in his chest at the word “friend,” as if he wanted more from the raven haired man. He didn’t. That was ridiculous.

“I’ve told you. I don’t have friends.” Dan picks at a string that’s come unraveled from the rips in his jeans, tugging on it. To him, the string represented his patience with this conversation. It was wearing thin, and eventually it’d snap. Maybe a pretentious and overly philosophical thing to even consider about his jeans, but still.

“Ah, yeah I forgot. You’re all edgy and alone. Sorry.” Phil sounds actually sarcastic this time, and Dan finds himself glancing over at him, pleasantly surprised at the humor that almost matches his own. Phil meets his gaze with what is almost a smirk, and Dan rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Yeah, well. Not everyone can be one of the popular kids, Phil. Some of us are outsiders.” Dan feels that he might be making it more personal than it strictly needs to be, and really, he pretty much is. He doesn’t know why, but something about the situation makes him think of secondary school, and how hard it was for him to feel like he actually fit in. He didn’t want to go down that path again, he really didn’t.

Phil is quiet for a moment as he seems to consider this. “You can have friends and still be an outsider, Dan. Ever read The Outsiders?”

Dan snorts. “Outdated reference, bub.”

He doesn’t miss the eyeroll Phil shoots him then, although Phil probably doesn’t mean for him to see it. “Okay, fine. How about The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Ever read that?”

That draws Dan up short, as he had read it, and seen the movie. It was one of his favorites. He’d related far too much to that story in his teen years, so for Phil to mention it now was just... a lot.

Apparently, Phil takes his silence as an affirmative. “Charlie and Patrick and Sam were all outsiders, Dan. But they were still best friends, and they had each other. They weren’t entirely alone, you know.”

Dan glances over at him, considering. After a brief staring contest, he lets out a deep, exaggerated sigh. “Okay then.”

Phil quirks an eyebrow, clearly not following. “Okay then what?” He asks cautiously.

Gesturing vaguely with his hands, Dan gives him an impatient look. “Well now you have to woo me. Or do whatever you do to get a friend. You’ve talked yourself into it now, mate.”

Dan wishes he had a camera to capture the answering grin that lights up Phil’s face. But since he doesn’t, he’ll just have to stare and commit it to memory for later.

“You’re not gonna know what hit you, Dan. I’m going to be the best friend you’ve ever had,” Phil holds his pinkie out childishly, clearly expecting Dan to link pinkies with him for the silly gesture.

Despite himself, Dan loops his pinkie around Phil’s, staring at their hands as Phil squeezes tightly. He ignores how warm Phil’s skin seems against his, letting go the moment the opportunity presents itself. Clearing his throat, he shifts so that his arms are resting against the back of the bench, trying hard not to brush up against Phil’s arm. “So... I’ve never... um I’m not great at the whole friendship thing. You might need to walk me through it.”

Phil doesn’t seem phased by this. If anything, he seems excited. “Okay! I can do that.” He runs a hand through his hair as he moves so that he’s almost fully facing Dan. Something about the way he’s got Phil’s full attention warms Dan’s cheeks, but he tosses his head back to look at the sky so that Phil won’t notice.

“I guess we have to get to know each other?” Dan asks, already resigned to the idea of sharing things about himself. He didn’t like it but he was pretty sure that being an Angel and all, Phil could fine out whatever he wanted with the endless records that they had access to. Must be nice, he thinks bitterly.

“Yeah, that’s a good start!” Phil gets a hesitant look on his face then, glancing over at Dan before his eyes flit down to his lap, where his hands are fiddling uselessly. Dan watches the movement with vague interest, wondering if maybe he had adhd or something as a human. “How about you ask me questions? I’ll answer anything you want to know, and then when you’re comfy we’ll switch?” Phil suggests.

Dan doesn’t miss the hopeful tone in his voice, and honestly Dan is grateful that he suggested it. He wasn’t great at talking about himself as a human, and considering he’d been afforded even less opportunities to do that after he died, he was pretty certain that he still sucked at it. “Sure. We can do that.”

Phil smiles at him, his hands finally stilling on his lap, his fingers laced together delicately. “Alright, hit me with those sweet questions,” Phil sings, his tongue poking out between his teeth in that goofy way. Dan can’t help but find it a little endearing, though he’d never admit it.

After thinking for a few minutes, Dan comes up with a vaguely interesting question that he only partially cares about the answer for. “How long have you been... you know?”

A fleeting look of sadness crosses Phil’s face, but he wipes it away with a contemplative glance up to the sky. “Um, I think twenty-two years, this summer.”

“Hm,” Dan hums. He was a little surprised. Phil had died around the same time as him. He wonders vaguely how they never crossed paths in all the years they’d both been there, but he supposed that heaven or the great beyond or wherever the hell they’d ended up was pretty crowded. “Do you live with the others?”

Phil shakes his head then, gesturing around them. “I prefer to live on earth. We all have the choice, you know, but all the stuffy angels think they’re better than that and they just choose to stay up there in their stupid castles or whatever.” His nose crinkles up as he says this, and Dan wonders if he’s imagining the trace of bitterness he hears in his voice.

“Yeah? So where do you usually stay?” Dan hates it, but he’s actually very curious about the answer to this.

“London is nice,” Phil says with a shrug. “Sometimes I jump over to New York, but generally...” he shrugs again as he trails off, as if that’s explanation enough.

“I was from near London,” Dan finds himself saying. He hadn’t even planned on sharing this bit about himself, but now that the opportunity has presented itself, he sees no reason not to. “From before… well, you know.” Even all these years later, it still feels so weird to describe his own death, but he knows that if anyone would understand, it would be Phil.

“Really?” Phil sounds pleasantly surprised. “I was from near Manchester.” His gaze slides away from Dan then, and a wistful look covers his features.

“Yeah? You’ve lost the northern,” Dan says in a poor attempt at a joke.

Phil’s lip barely quirks up at the tone of Dan’s voice, but his eyes hold a sadness now that hadn’t been there before. “I know,” he says softly to his shoes.

Dan suddenly regrets ever bringing it up. He hated the way that sadness twisted Phil’s features, and if he had some sort of power to rewind time and erase that comment, he’d use it now. Gently, as if he’s approaching a frightened animal, he reaches a hand out and brushes his fingers lightly over Phil’s knee. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly, trying his best to do the decent, human thing here.

“Yeah,” Phil shrugs one shoulder, but his lips quirk up into a small smile that proves that he’s not entirely lying. Dan allows his hand to fall away from Phil’s body, and he doesn’t miss the way that those blue eyes track the movement. “It’s just… the thing about being Chosen… You have to watch your family pass. And…” He gets choked up there, and Dan’s certain that his heart would be breaking if it was still beating.

“Were you close to your family?” He inquires, hoping that maybe recalling fond memories will help Phil feel less miserable about having lost his family. He hopes desperately that it doesn’t have the opposite affect.

Phil nods firmly. “I was. I… We were very close.” He pauses there, as if he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to continue. Something about that makes Dan flinch. He hates the idea that Phil hasn’t had anyone to talk to about this. Sure, he didn’t have anyone either, but he hadn’t really felt like he had anyone when he was alive anyways, so in his head, it was different.

“Tell me about them,” he requests, nodding encouragingly when Phil sends him a surprised look.

Shifting, and looking more uncertain than before, Phil’s gaze flickers back and forth from Dan and the ground. “Well… I lived with my parents after uni. Sometimes I felt like a failure for going back home after I’d finished, but they never made me feel unwelcome. Which,” he grins then, rolling his eyes playfully. “I guess they wouldn’t, seeing as I’m their son and all.” He hesitates then, before speaking softly. “Well, was. I was their son.”

Dan’s chest constricts at the way he’d corrected himself, and he gently bumps his knee against Phil’s thigh. “You’re still their son, Phil. Their passing doesn’t change that.” He speaks softly, trying to sooth the despair in Phil’s eyes.

It seems to work, and Phil has a cute smile on his face when he glances up at Dan. “Thanks. That… That makes me feel better, actually.” Dan shrugs at the praise, gesturing for Phil to continue speaking. “I was really close to my mum, Kath. She was the best mum in the world, and no, I don’t take constructive criticism about that statement.”

Dan raises his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t going to argue, I promise. I’m sure Kath was lovely.”

Something shifts in Phil’s gaze then, and his eyebrows draw together as he studies Dan curiously. Shifting uncomfortably under the steady gaze, Dan hopes that he isn’t wondering about his own home life, as he wasn’t sure he was so ready to share about that just yet. Instead, he asks Phil if he was an only child.

“No, I had- have- an older brother, Martyn.” He rolls his eyes with fondness as he says this, and the action makes Dan smile. But with that smile, he feels a familiar sting in his chest, trying desperately not to think of his own brother, whom despite not getting along with when they were alive, he missed very much.

“So, you were the baby?” Dan teases gently. Phil sticks his tongue out childishly, and Dan snorts at the gesture. “Yep, you were definitely the baby.”

Phil crosses his arms with a pout, but Dan can tell his lips are twitching as if they want to fall into a smile. “Okay, fine, yeah. I was the baby. What about you? Any siblings?”

The smile is immediately wiped off his face as his eyes fall to his lap. “Yeah,” he says softly. “A brother, younger.”

There’s a pause where Phil seems to be assessing Dan’s reaction to the question, and then he’s softly asking, “Is he…?”

Dan nods wordlessly.

He doesn’t expect it, so he jumps when he feels Phil’s hand fall on top of his own gently. He stares numbly as the pale fingers wrap around his hand in what is clearly meant to be a reassuring gesture. “I’m sorry,” Phil says sincerely.

Dan can’t stand the sincerity in his gaze and he pulls his hand away with a nod. “Yeah, I’d just- I’d rather not talk about it? If that’s okay.”

Phil’s eyes widen, and he nods quickly. “Of course. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, really. I’m sorry about that.”

Shrugging, Dan stares down at the ground where he’s kicking the ground with the toe of his black booted foot. “’S fine,” he mumbles. “Change the subject? Please?”

If the request bothers Phil, he certainly doesn’t show it. Instead, he launches into a new question. “I know I said I’d let you ask the questions, but I have a question for you. If you’re okay with answering it?” Phil’s voice lilts up at the end of his sentence, making it sound more like a question.

Dan nods, gesturing for him to speak. “Go for it.”

Phil is quiet for a moment, and he appears to be trying to figure out how to word something. “It might be presumptuous of me to ask this, but considering you’ve been Concealed both times I’ve seen you, and considering… well, you know…” A blush crawls across Phil’s cheeks, and Dan finds it endearing that he feels embarrassed for referencing the fact that Dan isn’t quite like him.

“Considering I’m a Fallen Angel?” He finishes for Phil, with a teasing smirk.

“Erm, yeah…” Phil looks a little taken aback, and Dan lets out a laugh.

“It’s fine, Phil. I know I’m Fallen, and you know it. Not like it’s a swear word, you can say it.”

Phil doesn’t seem to share this sentiment, because he still avoids saying it. “Well, anyway. Considering what I know about you now- which isn’t a lot, mind you- I was wondering… Why do you do that?”

Dan hums. “Do what, exactly?” He’s fairly sure he knows where this is going, and he’s not sure if there’s a not-lame way to tell Phil that he’s just socially awkward and honestly too emotionally ruined to try and befriend the humans he sees every day.

“Why do you live alone? Like, why don’t you try and… I don’t know, try and find some friends?” And there it is. The question Dan doesn’t really want to answer.

With a sigh, Dan sits back on the bench, dropping his head back to stare up at the sky. “There’s a really easy answer to that, actually,” Dan drawls, trying to fight back the bitter laugh he can feel bubbling up in his throat. He tilts his head over to the side to look at Phil, quirking an eyebrow up and smirking. “I’m dead, Phil.”

There’s a look of surprise that briefly colors Phil’s face, but almost as soon as it came, it’s gone, replaced with a look of disbelief. “That’s your brilliant answer?” He pauses, and when Dan only shrugs, Phil snorts out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous, Dan. You’re allowed to be Unconcealed, you know. Even as a Fallen, you can still have a sort of normal life.”

Dan stares at him, his smirk dropping as his lips press together in a thin line. “I’m dead, Phil. I’ll never have a life ever again.”

Phil studies him, a sad look in his eyes that Dan absolutely hates. “It might help,” he says softly. “To try and talk to the humans, try to be part of that life.”

Dan snorts, ungracefully. “Yeah? How do you figure it would help?”

After a moment of quiet, Phil glances down at his hands. “It might help curb the loneliness.”

This gives Dan pause, and he has to just sit there and consider that for a moment. He was alone, sure, but was he really lonely? He never really had friends before, so it wasn’t like he had something to miss. Perhaps he did long for a friend, but he really didn’t know the feeling well enough to have something to crave. Still, Phil’s phrasing did give him something new to consider about himself.

“Sorry if I crossed a boundary by saying that,” Phil says after a moment where it’s clear that Dan won’t be responding.

Dan shakes his head quickly. “No, course not. Just, not sure how to respond to that.”

The silence hangs between them, growing heavier with the longer they choose not to disrupt it. Eventually Phil seems to realize something, sitting up and looking around suddenly.

“Sorry, I know this is incredibly rude, but I actually should get going. I’ve got some… things to take care of.” Phil’s got this adorable apologetic smile on his face, and Dan can’t even think about being annoyed with him for leaving so soon.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t disappointed, however. “Oh. Um… Will you…” He trails off, unsure how to go about asking to see him again.

“Yeah?” Phil asks, tilting his head.

Dan lets out a breath, forcing himself to just say the words. “Will I see you again?”

Phil looks startled by the question, but pleasantly so. “Do you want to?”

The answer to this comes easy to Dan, surprisingly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Phil grins, looking pleased with himself. Rather than answer Dan’s question, Phil moves to stand, smiling down at him. “I’ll see you soon, Dan. Promise. Stay safe out here, okay?”

Quickly, almost as if he’s afraid of what Dan’s reaction will be, Phil leans down, brushing his lips against Dan’s cheek gently.

Dan can’t hide the look of surprise that graces his features then, but he does try. “Oh. Um. See you- soon?” He hates how desperate he sounds, but he genuinely can’t help it. This is the longest conversation he’s had with someone in literally years, and he feels an odd stirring in his chest at the feeling of human interaction. Weirdly, that human instinct hadn’t been wiped out when he’d died.

Phil smiles, nodding as he goes to step away. “Soon. Promise.”

And before Dan can even respond, Phil is leaving, strolling out of the park in a way that’s so human that Dan can only stare after him in wonder.

~~~

After the day at the park, days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into a month, and soon Dan starts wondering if maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. Surely his imagination didn’t conjure up Phil himself, but perhaps the second time they’d met it was merely a trick of his, admittedly lonely, mind and heart.

Either way, imagined or not, Dan does take some of the advice Phil had given him to heart. He feels uncomfortable at first, being Unconcealed, but eventually, after trying it a few times, he manages to start feeling a little more comfortable. Every time he does it, he tries to last a little longer without the protection that being Concealed grants him, growing steadily better at minimal human interaction. His limit so far was five hours, but today he was going to try to push that at a Starbucks. He’d loved those when he was alive, and he was relieved that the corporate coffee chain was still very much thriving, even all these years later.

He’s ordered a caramel macchiato, just like he did before, and he settles into a booth away from the windows of the store. He hadn’t thought to wear a coat, and he knew it would seem odd for him to sit close to the front, where it’s coldest, in a thin black jumper. So, he settles himself into a booth and settles on people-watching for now. Occasionally he stirs at his drink, unsure if he’s even interested in drinking it. Being dead had its perks, such as not needing simple human things like food or sleep, and Dan honestly hadn’t even tried to indulge in either of them since being Chosen, so he wasn’t even sure if he’d even like it now.

He’s considering this as he stares down into the frothy foam of his drink, his eyebrows furrowed together contemplatively. He’s so lost in his own little world that he truly doesn’t even realize that someone is sitting down across from him until the table jostles.

Startled, Dan’s gaze darts up to find a grinning Phil, for once not wearing an all-white ensemble like the two Dan has seen so far. Instead, he’s wearing red t-shirt with a denim jacket thrown over it. Dan’s a little surprised to see how casual he is, and the irrational, still human-thinking part of his brain wonders if maybe he should try clothes that aren’t all black. It’s not as if he has a dress code, and angels do have access to practically anything, even Fallen ones such as himself.

“You’re a tough man to find, Dan Howell,” Phil announces, still smiling as he props his arms onto the table, lacing his hands together.

Dan quirks an eyebrow at this, his ears zeroing in on the name. “I never told you my surname,” he observes in lieu of a hello.

Phil rolls his eyes at this, lowering his voice as he leans across the table. “You do realize that we’re angels, right? Infinite knowledge at our fingertips and all that.” Phil is definitely referring to the files that are kept, accounting every human life, kept safe There, with access granted to Angels- almost all of them.

So, maybe there was one thing that the other Angels were afforded that the Fallen weren’t, but Dan wasn’t bitter about it or anything.

Rather than act on his slight annoyance, Dan rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh. “I’m actually… well, I guess I’m kind of on probation, of sorts.”

Phil’s lips tug at the corner as if he’s going to smile, but he controls it well. “Would it be rude of me to tell you that I could tell that by the wings?”

Dan snickers at the way Phil’s politely danced around saying it again. “No,” he sighs after a moment. “I knew that you already knew about it. That’s why… that’s why I was a little weird about being around you at first. I thought… I thought maybe you just felt sorry for me.” He suddenly feels very sobered at the thought that he may not be wrong, maybe Phil does pity him, and maybe that’s the only reason he was here now. There’s a violent tugging in his chest at the thought, and he hates it. He hates the idea that he’s just a charity case to the man across from him.

“Is sympathy such a bad thing?” Phil inquires softly, curiously.

“I guess not. Pity is. I don’t want to be pitied.” Dan doesn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

There’s a moment of silence as Phil studies Dan, his eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t pity you, love. I just hate to see you being so lonely.” Phil’s voice is dripping in sincerity, and Dan’s stopped short at the honesty he hears there.

Quietly, as if he doesn’t really intend for Phil to hear it, Dan murmurs, “I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I met you.”

He doesn’t miss the smile curving at Phil’s lips when he says this, but he really does try not to smile back like some sort of idiot. It doesn’t work, and he returns the grin, feeling a flush crawl up his neck.

Phil doesn’t give him very long to feel awkward for saying that out loud, though, because he’s already moving onto something else. “Are you going to finish that?” He asks, pointing to Dan’s drink with a hopeful look on his face.

Dan smiles, shaking his head as he slides the mug towards Phil. “Go for it, mate.”

And Phil does, drinking probably half of it all in one go. Dan’s jaw drops a bit at that, and Phil smiles behind the mug. “What? ‘M thirsty,” he mumbles around another sip.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Dan can’t help the smile that’s tugging at his lips as he watches the man across from him. His black hair is pushed back in a quiff again, and Dan wonders how soft it is.

Finished with his- well, Dan’s- drink now, Phil pushes the mug away and tilts his head at Dan, appraising him. “Do you want to go to my flat?” He asks suddenly, looking rather nervous for the answer.

Dan knows, he really does know, that Phil doesn’t intend it in the way it sounds, but that doesn’t stop him from smirking, leaning forward across the table so that only Phil can hear him. “How very human of you, Phil. You could at least buy a man dinner first.”

Phil’s eyes widen comically, a frantic look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “Not like that!” He protests, almost a whine. He stops then, tilting his head again as if considering something. “Well… Maybe like that.” He bites his lip then, and Dan is almost positive that this man will find a way to kill him again.

Rather than address the rather obvious flirtation, Dan shrugs, sliding out of the booth and stepping away to let Phil out. “Lead the way,” he gestures ahead of him, and he just barely catches the excited look on Phil’s face as he slides out of the seat, leading the way to the door.

As they walk down the sidewalk, Dan falling in step beside Phil, Dan starts to ponder what kind of life Phil lives outside of being an angel. He was clearly much more comfortable with the whole human dwelling thing, and even had his own flat. That was a pretty big commitment for a dead person, even if that dead person was technically now an immortal being.

Unable to quell his curiosity with his pondering, Dan nudges Phil’s arm with his elbow. “Hey, I have a question.” When Phil nods for him to continue, Dan gestures around them, lowering his voice when he speaks. “Is this like, how you live? You really just… act like one of them?”

Phil nods, looking excited all over again. “Yeah, pretty much. We’re given the option, you know, and I just couldn’t stand the idea of staying up There with the others. I prefer an independent lifestyle, but this way I still get to mingle with people, I’m just not as… attached, I guess.” He shrugs, as if he isn’t positive he’s explained it right, but Dan thinks he gets it, somehow.

“Why do you bother with it, though? Like with actually going through the human motions? Like you could just stay Concealed and basically live the same, and no one would even know you were here.” Dan is just genuinely curious at this point, trying to understand Phil better.

Phil crinkles his nose at this question. “I don’t know. I guess I just miss it sometimes. I miss the simplicity of human life.”

Dan hums at that, turning the idea over in his mind. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he replies eventually.

“What about you?” Phil asks eventually. “Where do you usually live? Since you’re… kind of stuck here…” He still won’t say the word, but Dan knows he thinks he’s just being more respectful by avoiding it.

After considering Phil’s question, Dan shrugs. “I’m actually more of a nomad, personally. I don’t really live anywhere. I’m just constantly on the move.” He kicks at the sidewalk a little as they walk, hearing it in his own voice how lonely he really is.

“You don’t sleep?” Phil asks, sounding appalled.

Dan give him a confused side glance. “You do?”

Phil nods vigorously. “Absolutely. The best part of my human life was sleep, I’m not about to give that up just because I’m an Angel.” He sounds so serious, and Dan can’t help the fond smile. He barely knows this man, and he’s already feeling so attached to his personality. It’s a dangerous game for him to play, but one that he thinks is worth risking.

“What else are you not going to give up because you’re an Angel?” Dan asks quietly, stepping just a little closer as they walk and giving Phil a wink when his head whips around to stare at Dan in surprise.

“Are you flirting with me, Dan?” Phil asks, fighting back a smile.

Dan shrugs, feeling a little uncertain suddenly, but intent on seeing this through. “Maybe,” he hums, trying to be mysterious and vague. People found that attractive, right? Not that he wanted Phil to- who is he kidding, of course he wanted Phil to find him attractive. Phil himself was hot as hell (if Dan could use the phrasing) and he’s definitely got the kind of personality Dan finds attractive. Is it so wrong for him to want the same thing in return?

“That’s cute,” Phil coos, pressing his arm against Dan’s as they step around a busker’s area of work on a sidewalk.

Dan would be lying if he said he didn’t blush when he heard Phil say that, but luckily Phil doesn’t seem to notice, being too busy pulling Dan into a building. There’s a simply modern looking lobby, and Phil pulls Dan to the elevator, tugging on the sleeve of Dan’s jumper in order to lead him around. He presses the button for the fifth floor, and Dan files that away. Just in case.

“Here we are,” Phil announces a few moments later, once they’ve arrived to the door of his apartment. The gold numbers indicate that he’s in apartment number 505, and Dan files that away as well. Phil glances back at him before pushing the door open, waving Dan in before shutting the door and sliding the lock back into place. Dan finds something about this very endearing, considering neither of them could be murdered or hurt by anyone who may want to break in. Old habits die hard, he guessed.

“So, it’s pretty small, honestly. The kitchen’s through there, and down this hall is a bathroom, a closet, and my bedroom.” Phil explains after they’ve taken their shoes off, leading Dan into the lounge and gesturing at the areas as he mentions them. He drops his hand to the back of his neck, and for the first time, Dan thinks Phil seems a little nervous.

“It’s nice,” Dan compliments, hoping to sooth his nerves a little.

It seems to work, if Phil’s answering smile is anything to go by. “Thanks! It’s cozy, even if it is a little small.”

Dan shrugs, biting his lip to hold back the joke he’s desperate to make. “Yeah,” he says lamely instead.

Phil gestures to the tv in the lounge, glancing up to Dan with a curious smile. “So, what do you want to do? I’ve got Netflix, games, and pretty good internet, so… what’ll it be?”

Biting his lip, Dan surveys the room, studying all of Phil’s little knick knacks. It strikes him then how similar their tastes seem to be, and he really hopes that this goes well. He decides to suggest anime after seeing a plushy from one of his favorite anime shows, one that he’d obviously only seen in passing since he died.

The suggestion seems to be the right thing, because Phil smiles brightly, looking positively thrilled. “Sure! Have a seat, and I’ll put it on.”

Dan takes a seat on the sofa, feeling a little shy and awkward, but not really as awkward as he thought he’d feel, going to someone’s flat and watching anime with them after years of having next to no contact with anyone. But remarkably, this was nice, and almost comfortable. He felt at ease when he was around Phil, as inexplicable as that was, and he really couldn’t find a reason to deny himself of that. It was lonely being a Fallen, and it seemed that he’d found someone who understood his struggles, or at least some of them. Enough to be his friend.

“You know, it’s strange, but you actually seem really human to me,” Dan observes from his spot on the sofa, not missing the way Phil giggles softly.

“Is that like an insult or something?” He inquires, standing and coming to join Dan on the soft grey material of the sofa, pulling his legs up onto the furniture. Dan’s eyes catch on his mis-matched socks, and he grins.

“Of course not!” Dan hurries to reassure him, even though he’s fairly sure that Phil isn’t even serious. “I actually… um, I think I really miss the whole human thing, sometimes.” He admits quietly, his eyes trained on the tv, so he can pretend that he isn’t invested in the conversation he’s just created.

He can tell he’s piqued Phil’s interest, as the other man sits up, turning his head to fully face Dan. “Yeah? Which parts do you miss?” He says this lowly, and Dan has to do a double take, but he’s almost positive that Phil is trying to be seductive in the way he’s biting his lip.

Smirking, Dan decides to tease him. “Are you flirting with me?” He asks, expecting Phil to blush and stutter his way out of it.

Phil shrugs, looking completely nonchalant. “I’m trying to,” he responds, his tongue poking through his teeth adorably.

Dan hadn’t expected the blunt answer, and he’s honestly stunned into silence for a moment. After recovering from his surprise, he slowly works out what the original point of the conversation was. “Well, on the topic of what I miss,” he starts, not missing the way Phil smirks slightly, clearly aware of how Dan tries to change the subject. “I miss human food. And sleep and…” He hesitates then, unsure if he should even finish that thought. Deciding there’s really nothing stopping him from being honest, he decides to just go for it. “And sex,” he rushes out all at once.

The smirk Phil had been wearing immediately falls from his face as he processes Dan’s words. “You haven’t… you haven’t had sex since you were Chosen?” Phil asks incredulously.

Dan startles at this. “No. You have?” It’s not like being an Angel really meant that you weren’t allowed the human perks, but Dan hadn’t met very many angels who actively participated in things like that. Although, it’s not like he was very popular with them when he was there anyway.

Phil ignores his second question, and Dan can’t decide if he’s relieved or not. “How long has it been? Like, since you were Chosen?”

Fidgeting with the rips in his jeans, Dan carefully avoids Phil’s gaze. “A while,” he whispers. He didn’t want to admit that, not only because of the context of why Phil was asking, but also because he hated thinking about how long it had been since he’d seen… well, he just didn’t want to think about it.

There’s a heavy silence that settles over them for a moment, but eventually Phil speaks quietly. “Did you have a preference, before?” He asks quietly, almost like he doesn’t want Dan to hear.

A little thrown off, Dan stumbles over his answer. “About what? The position I preferred?” He could feel his face flooding with heat, and although he generally wasn’t embarrassed discussing sex, he felt that maybe Phil was an exception.

“Oh, um, no! Er… I mean, yeah. I guess I want to know that too, but I just meant, like gender wise. Did you have a preference?” Phil sounds just as awkward as Dan feels then, and somehow that helps to balance out Dan’s embarrassment.

“No…” Dan shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I um… kind of slept with anyone who’d sleep with me.”

“Oh,” Phil says softly, surprised.

“I’m sorry. If that… um… makes you uncomfortable or whatever.” The awkwardness is back, and Dan suddenly wonders if that’s how the whole entire visit is going to be.

“Of course not! I just had a different experience, I guess.” A cloudy look crosses Phil’s face then, and Dan can tell this topic might be a little more sensitive for Phil.

“Yeah?” Dan asks, moving his leg to press it against Phil’s in what he means to be a reassuring gesture. “What was your experience?”

Phil laughs then, and whatever unhappy emotion that had been clouding his thoughts seems to disappear, and Dan hates the way he feels so giddy to see the smile on Phil’s face reappear. “I preferred men, but it took me a really long time to come to terms with that, and I mean, even after I did, I didn’t really… I didn’t have the confidence to do much, before… well, you know.”

Hearing Phil say that he wasn’t very sexually active when he was alive honestly surprises Dan far more than he’s probably allowed for it to. “Really?” He asks, unable to contain his shock.

Phil rolls his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised,” Phil says with a teasing tone in his voice.

Dan shakes his head then, slowly and thoughtfully. “But… I am!” He protests, gesturing his arm around wildly to try and express his surprise physically rather than just verbally. “You’re hot, Phil. I don’t know that there’s many pants you couldn’t get into.”

“Dan!” Phil near screeches, and even with the obnoxious volume, Dan can’t help the warmness he feels in his chest. He wouldn’t mind hearing his name yelled in that voice for a while. Maybe in several different contexts.

“What?” Dan tries to hide his laughter but isn’t very successful. “I’m a Fallen, Phil. I don’t have to be perfect.” He rolls his eyes with a grin, his voice light and joking.

Suddenly, Phil’s expression morphs from mildly horrified from Dan’s words to a little concerned, and maybe even sad. “Do you think that’s what’s expected of us?” He asks softly.

Dan shrugs, staring down at his hands, which are pulling on the strings of his jeans again. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation, but it looks like it’s going to be something he can’t avoid. “That’s what was expected of me,” he replies.

“Was it?” Phil inquires, tilting his head as he studies Dan.

“It felt that way,” Dan nods. “Do you even know what happened? Like, why I’m a Fallen now?” His tone is shifting, he can hear it, as he recalls the memories of what happened.

“No, you didn’t tell me,” Phil replies, looking confused. He probably doesn’t see that it has anything to do with their current conversation, and maybe it really doesn’t, but Dan feels that they’re connected.

“I… Tried to kill myself… after.” Dan’s tone is completely bitter now, and he can feel his skin itching with anger at recalling everything that had happened that day. “Like, after I was Chosen,” he elaborates when Phil just quirks a brow at him in confusion.

The expression on Phil’s face is completely mortified now, and honestly, Dan’s not very surprised. “You what?” Phil whispers, his eyes wide.

Dan drops his gaze again, unable to handle the pain in Phil’s expression. “I was so miserable,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s almost as if he thinks that keeping them quiet will keep them less true. “I was so young when I died, and everyone else was so damn holier than thou, and I just… I couldn’t do it.” His voice breaks at the end, and he can feel the wetness growing hot behind his eyes, his vision beginning to blur.

“Dan…” Phil chokes out, sounding on the verge of tears himself. Before Dan can even really process what’s happening, Phil pulls him into his lap, tugging Dan over his legs so that Dan’s straddling his lap. Without waiting for Dan to really protest it, Phil runs a hand through Dan’s curls, and tugs his head down to lay on his shoulder. Dan’s body is now wracking with sobs, and if he wasn’t so engulfed in the emotion, he’d be completely embarrassed that the first time he’d cried in years was in front of another person, and someone he really liked at that.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Dan repeats over and over like a mantra, trying to convince Phil that he isn’t as pathetic as what he seems. He can barely choke the words out though, so he’s fairly sure that it’s not working.

“Dan, hush. You have nothing to apologize for. You can’t help the way you feel, love.” Phil’s words are soothing, and Dan can feel himself growing calmer. It could be in part due to the soft, gentle way that Phil is petting his curls, a gentle pressure on his scalp when Phil lightly scratches his nails there. “Shh. Shh, now. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Phil murmurs soothing words against Dan’s hair, humming under his breath to calm him.

“I don’t want to feel this way,” Dan breathes against Phil’s throat, trying to keep his lips from pressing against the skin there. “I want to feel better.”

“I don’t want you to feel that way either, Dan. I want you to feel better. Do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay? If crying is what you need, then I’m going to sit right here with you while you get it out.” Phil speaks against his curls, his voice slightly muffled, but Dan’s chest constricts with the words.

“Whatever I need to do to feel better?” Dan echoes, inching his face slightly closer to Phil’s neck. He knows he doesn’t need to- there are boundaries, of course, but-

“Yeah, of course, I hate seeing you cry,” Phil says quietly. “What- oh,” he squeaks, stiffening beneath Dan when Dan’s lips make contact with his throat.

Dan is slow with his movements, he very gently kisses the spot his lips have met, and only after Phil’s rigid posture has relaxed does he move to do anything further. He parts his lips and gently sucks the skin into his mouth, suckling without doing it too hard. Phil shivers beneath him, and Dan pulls away just enough to speak. “This okay?” He whispers.

Phil gasps softly, nodding quickly. “It’s fine, but… I…” He swallows when Dan reattaches his lips, and the sensation is weird, but Dan is unbothered, and only snuggles in further as he leaves a mark on Phil’s neck. “Can I make you feel better?” He breathes, and before Dan can ask what he means, Phil rolls his hips up, causing Dan’s bulge to grow in his jeans.

“Yes, god, please,” Dan mumbles, licking the mark he’d just left on Phil’s neck before shifting back.

“Lay back,” Phil whispers, helping Dan slide off his lap to lay back on the sofa. Dan’s heart is racing, and he catches a glimpse of the tv, still left on the title screen of the anime they’d wanted to watch. He nearly giggles at it, but then Phil is moving to hover over him, settling in the space between Dan’s legs when he parts them. “If you want me to stop, at any time and for any reason, you have to tell me, okay?” He breathes against Dan’s lips.

Dan nods frantically. “I will, just-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Phil’s lips are connecting with his then, pressing softly at first, but growing more insistent when he is met with enthusiasm. Dan’s hands fist at the back of Phil’s shirt, trying to draw him in even closer as their mouths work together. Feeling bold, Dan slowly traces Phil’s bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, silently requesting entrance. He’s granted it, and Phil allows him to explore with seemingly no problem, and Dan feels one of his hands petting his hair while the other one trails down Dan’s front. He has an idea of where it’s headed, and that only makes his excitement grow.

Sure enough, Phil begins fiddling with the button and zipper of Dan’s jeans, unfastening them as well as he can with one hand. “Bloody hell,” Phil mumbles against his mouth.

Dan giggles. “Fuckin’ jeans, eh?”

Phil snorts in response, finally undoing the fastenings keeping him from Dan’s cock. “Wanna suck you, can I?”

Dan’s eyes roll back in pleasure, and he groans out a response. “Please, and thank you for asking,” he mumbles out hurriedly.

A giggle falls out of Phil’s mouth then, and Dan leans up to capture anymore sounds, bringing a hand to the hair at the back of Phil’s head to hold him in place gently.

“Alright, let me blow you,” Phil eventually whispers against his lips.

“Not stoppin’ you,” Dan mumbles.

“You’re being distracting,” Phil laughs. He shuffles down the sofa, his lips getting further and further away from Dan’s. But Dan isn’t going to complain, since he’s getting closer to another thing Dan is excited for him to touch.

They both fall into silence, filled with heavy panting as Phil tugs Dan’s jeans down. They’re so tight that his pants come with them, and finally his cock is free from the restraining fabric. “God,” he mumbles.

“Not my name,” Phil mutters as he works on tugging Dan’s jeans and pants completely off, tossing them to the floor carelessly. “Fuck, Dan,” he breathes, nuzzling back in between Dan’s legs and bringing a hand up to wrap around Dan’s length. “Look so good for me.”

Dan’s head tosses back, cracking against the arm of the sofa, making him wince. “Don’t talk like that, or I’ll finish in like negative two seconds,” he snaps without malice.

Phil snickers, but before Dan can reprimand him for that, he’s wrapping his lips around the head of Dan’s dick, suckling gently. Dan can’t help but buck his hips up a little, having gone without this for so long, but apologies immediately fall from his mouth. “Sorry, sorry, won’t do it again, swear.”

“It’s fine, you’re fine, love.” Phil’s hand that isn’t wrapped around the base of Dan’s cock moves up to find Dan’s hand, and he intertwines their fingers as his eyes stare up at Dan innocently. “Let me take care of you.”

Dan nods, swallowing hard as he looks down at the scene before him. It’s undeniably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his human life or his afterlife, which is probably sad, but he couldn’t care less. He’s being sucked off by the hottest Angel he’d ever met, and probably the hottest human, so he was allowed to think that it was the best thing that had happened to him. “Thank you,” Dan breathes as Phil begins moving his mouth, hollowing his cheeks on every upstroke, his hand following his mouth to help spread his saliva along Dan’s length. At Dan’s words, Phil only squeezes his hand gently.

It doesn’t take long for Dan to start losing what little control he had over himself, and eventually his hips are bucking up of their own accord, but Phil doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. If anything, his encouraging hums and moans seem to indicate that he’s enjoying it just as much. The noises he makes are definitely helping, the vibrations a heavenly feeling against Dan’s cock.

“Close,” Dan whispers eventually, reaching a hand down to tug softly at Phil’s hair so he’d know to pull off.

He does, but only for a moment. “Can go in my mouth, it’s fine,” he gasps out before going right back down on Dan.

The words send a flurry of heat to Dan’s stomach, where he can already feel his muscles tightening as his release approaches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles. “Phil, I-“ whatever praise he was about to give the man is lost as Dan’s orgasm tears through him, white hot and euphoric. Phil never stops moving his hand, his mouth suctioned around the top to catch Dan’s load as he comes down his throat. Something about the intimacy of that action just makes him feel even more turned on, if it’s even possible.

As soon as he feels himself finish, Dan slumps, his vision blurry and dark. He’s not even aware of Phil pulling away and tugging his pants back up his legs to cover him up. It takes Phil a moment to realize how out of it he is, and only then does Dan start to come back around. “Dan? Dan! Are you okay?” Phil calls frantically, gently shaking Dan’s shoulder with one hand as the other hand flutters around his face, checking for a temperature or something, Dan’s not sure.

“’M fine, just tired,” Dan mumbles. It’s true, but part of it is just that he hadn’t felt this kind of relief in a long time, and it was more than just a little overwhelming.

Phil laughs softly, but then brings his mouth back up to Dan’s, pressing his lips gently to the brunette’s. Dan tries to deepen the kiss, but Phil pulls away. “I swallowed, remember?” He says, sounding a little uncertain.

Dan shrugs, tugging on Phil’s shirt until he leans down again. “Don’t care,” he mumbles against Phil’s lips. They settle into the kiss and Dan can taste himself on Phil’s tongue when he gently opens his mouth, but after a moment, Phil pulls away again.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” He asks gently, stroking a finger down Dan’s face.

“Do you want me to?” Dan asks in surprise.

“I want you to want to stay with me. I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Phil admits, glancing down at his hands.

Dan can’t have Phil looking at him like that after everything they’d just done, so he quickly reaches up and grabs Phil’s chin, brushing a finger across Phil’s lips as he does. “I want to. I’d like that a lot,” he tells him, before really even considering what all that would entail.

But the way Phil’s face brightens just cements that it’s the right decision for Dan, and so he doesn’t even think about being regretful. “Okay. I’ll go get us some pajamas,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Dan’s lips again before getting up and leaving the lounge.

A little dazed, and more than a little unsure about what he’s meant to do now, Dan shifts on the sofa, trying to decide if he should actually stay or not. He’s never done that; when he was human he was a “love them and leave them” kinda guy, so he wasn’t entirely sure how this was supposed to work. He’s suddenly full of a burning anxiety that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he can feel the itch under his skin as the uncomfortable feeling settles in.

“Hang on a sec, I’m trying to find a T-shirt for you,” Phil calls from somewhere down the hall, probably where his bedroom is. “Unless you’d rather sleep without a shirt?”

Dan knows he has to make a split decision then. Making as little noise as possible, Dan moves out of the lounge and tugs his shoes on silently. He can still hear Phil moving around, and he knows that he’s probably about to call out again to ask about the pajama situation, which means he only has a few minutes to leave without being noticed. He pauses, breathes out a quiet apology under his breath, and then ducks out the door, closing it silently behind him as he goes.

He hesitates for only a moment, listening closely to see if Phil had noticed that he was gone. When he heard no indication of the sorts, Dan slowly trekked down the hall, biting the inside of his cheeks as guilty tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn’t stay, though, he just couldn’t. Because regardless of how Phil lived his afterlife, they weren’t human. And since the future Dan had stretched on into infinity, he knew it would only hurt that much more for Phil to leave him once he’d let himself get attached. So, in order to avoid that kind of pain, Dan would just have to avoid getting attached. Even if it made him convulse with guilt, he would walk out of this building and go back to his old routine, devoid of any and all interaction, human and nonhuman alike.

And that was fine. Dan liked it that way. He would be fine. Really.

~~~

Months pass slowly, slower than they’ve ever passed for Dan, and he finds himself wishing, not for the first time, that he had some sort of reprieve from the same routine. He was so tired of it, so beyond sick of the way he felt when he moved on to a new place, never sleeping or eating, only moving and observing the lives of humans he would never really know unfold in front of him. It was, for lack of a better word, lonely. And for the first time in a long time, Dan found himself hating that feeling with every fiber of his being.

It wasn’t like it was a new feeling; it was one he was quite accustomed to, but suddenly the lack of a certain blue eyed male in his life was bringing him to dread the days with a passion he hadn’t in years. In short, he was miserable.

That’s probably why he found himself here today, in a place he hadn’t visited in close to a decade. There was no point, really, not even today, but for some reason he found it somewhat therapeutic to return to this particular spot.

He moves between the granite stones silently and gracefully, a trait he’d been blessed with as an Angel, and one that for some reason hadn’t been taken from him when he’d been cast out. Really, other than the wings and the status symbol, he didn’t feel that he was missing out on much there. But perhaps being the only Fallen didn’t offer any great rewards either, which made him question why he was even Chosen in the first place. It made his head hurt to think about, but if everything was a part of a big plan, then shouldn’t it have been known what he would try to do to himself? Couldn’t they have helped? He didn’t suppose he’d ever get the answers to those questions.

Eventually, after what feels like a long time travelling on foot through the grass that desperately needed to be cut, Dan finds what he’s looking for. The stone is rough and worn, and completely blank. He doesn’t need etchings on a rock to tell him what he already knows, though. He settles himself on the grass right on top of the grave, carrying little about things like cemetery etiquette right now.

“Hi,” he says to the stone, uncaring about his volume as he’s Concealed right now, and it shouldn’t even matter. “I see they have yet to put something on this fucking rock. You’d think eventually they’d put something. “John Smith” would be better than staring at a blank slate,” Dan grumbles to himself. He tilts his head then, staring down at the grass crawling up the corroding marble. “I guess I don’t suit the name “John Smith” though, do I?” he ponders aloud.

Of course, he’s not actually expecting a response, so when he hears a voice off to his right, he jumps. “No, I don’t think you do, actually.”

Dan whips his head around so fast he’s almost certain he’d have broken it as a human. Unsurprisingly, the voice belongs to exactly who he hoped it didn’t, but considering the fucking joke his entire life was, he wasn’t all that surprised. He feels his throat go dry as he stares at Phil, who is sat casually atop one of the taller and wider gravestones a few meters away. He’s wearing all black today, much like Dan, and for some reason the image seems all wrong in Dan’s head. The brightness that Phil seems to naturally exude is still there, obviously, but somehow it seems dimmer with the clothes, and Dan wishes he was wearing all white again, pure and happy and the complete opposite of everything that Dan represents.

Before Dan even has the chance to ask what Phil was doing there, the blue eyed man uncrosses his legs and stands, taking a few steps closer as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I kinda figured I’d find you here,” he says casually, the usual smile on his face completely gone in favor for a blank look.

Dan swallows hard. “Why were you looking?” He asks when his throat no longer feels bone dry.

Phil quirks an eyebrow at him, the rest of his face unmoving. “Are we back to this?”

“Back to what?” Dan says, his voice sounding petulant even to his own ears.

“Daniel. Come off it.” Phil’s voice leaves little room for argument or any of Dan’s usual nonsense.

Dan’s eyes find the ground, and his hands drop down to tug at the grass, just to give himself something to do that isn’t confront Phil. “Did you come here to be rude to me?” Dan asks, his voice unintentionally soft. “Because I don’t need that, Phil, I really don’t.”

He hears Phil sigh, and then his head is snapping up in surprise when Phil lowers himself to the grass across from him, mirroring Dan’s position. “No, Dan. Of course I didn’t,” Phil says gently, giving Dan a small, concerned frown. “I just… I came here because I…” He seems at a loss for words, his face morphing into a grimace as he drops his gaze to his hands, which are grasping the grass like Dan’s. “I came because I want you to not be alone.” The words come out as an almost whisper, and Dan doesn’t miss the pain in his voice.

Dan’s guilt about leaving Phil’s flat without saying anything several months ago comes back tenfold, and he cringes when he thinks about how hurt Phil must have been, and apparently still is. He hates himself for causing that pain, he really does.

But then he has a moment to process Phil’s words, and somehow he’s able to wipe away the guilty feeling when a rush of anger floods into his veins. He clenches his fists around the blades of grass under his hands, tugging hard and pulling them out of the ground with the chunks of dirt still attached. Carelessly, and without considering how rude it would be if it were any other grave, he slings them directly at the headstone barely two inches to Phil’s left.

Phil jumps, his eyes going wide as he glances at where the clump of dirt had hit, the impact splitting it into a million little pieces. His gaze slowly moves back to Dan, and his eyebrows furrow as he takes in the almost bored look that’s probably covering Dan’s face now. “Dan-?” Phil’s voice lilts up as if it’s a question, but Dan cuts him off.

“Did you know that I was murdered?” There is no emotion in Dan’s voice, nothing there except a hollow sense of detachment.

The look on Phil’s face jumps from concerned to horrified within seconds. It’s almost comical, but Dan doesn’t laugh. “What?” He whispers out, and even with the space between them, Dan can see his eyes gloss over with tears.

Dan nods, looking past Phil to the headstone. “Yeah. Couldn’t even identify my body.” He laughs bitterly then, his gaze hardening as it settles on Phil’s still-shocked face. “I was buried in a cemetery far from my family, in a plot all by myself.”

“Dan…” Phil breathes out, his voice strained with emotion that Dan doesn’t want to hear right now.

“No,” Dan shakes his head vehemently, moving to stand. He suddenly feels suffocated with Phil’s presence and the pity in his eyes, and he needs space. “Don’t you see? I’m always going to be alone, Phil. I’ve always been alone, and that’s exactly how it’s always going to be,” Dan speaks quickly and insistently, wrapping his arms around himself tightly, completely shrinking in on himself.

Phil’s gaze suddenly darkens, and he stands quickly, stepping towards Dan with purpose. His movements startle Dan, and he stumbles backwards, only just catching himself before tripping over another stone. So much for grace. Whatever pity that had been harbored in Phil’s gaze is gone, wiped away to be replaced by something closer to anger. Over what, Dan had no idea.

“No, Dan. You isolate yourself. You,” He spits the word, and Dan feels his mouth drop open in surprise. Not that he knew Phil particularly well, but he hadn’t seen him like this, and it was something he wasn’t so sure he even wanted to see. “You isolate yourself because that’s what you want. Maybe it wasn’t like that when you were alive, but you have choices now, Daniel. You can choose the people in your life, but you don’t even try to, because you like being alone, you thrive off the idea of being on your own, but at what fucking cost? Is it worth it? Being so lonely?” Phil is speaking fast, and loud, louder than he’d ever spoken to Dan. It was almost frightening, in a way that things you don’t expect in settings you’re not comfortable in are.

“I-“ Dan begins to defend himself, though he has no idea what he’s even going to say. As much as he hates it, Phil wasn’t entirely wrong.

“No. That’s exactly what you’re doing, and I want you, I do, but I’m not going to watch you destroy yourself because you’re too afraid to let yourself be loved.” Phil’s words ring with finality, and he lets out a breath as if he’s finished.

“You don’t…” Dan flounders for the right words. “You don’t love me. You barely know me,” he gasps out finally, his brain caught on the four letter word, tossing it around his skull like a tennis ball.

Phil’s gaze softens considerably then, as he takes a step closer to Dan. “I could. If you’d let me,” he whispers softly, his words just barely meeting Dan’s ears around the rushing of blood he can hear in his panic.

“I…” Dan stumbles over his words, completely at a loss for how to respond to that. “I think you should go. I can’t- I don’t-“ he knows he isn’t as articulate as he normally is right now, but he can’t help it. He feels that he’s been completely blindsided by this conversation, and he needs a moment. Or perhaps a lot of moments, away from Phil, and this cemetery, to process it.

Phil’s face crumples, and Dan is certain he can feel his heart breaking at the sight. “I know,” he sighs out. “I don’t… I’m sorry, Dan. I want to…” he sighs again, clearly struggling. “I want to be the person who makes you happy, but I can’t do that if you aren’t happy with yourself.”

“I don’t need someone to make me happy,” Dan replies weakly, barely any force behind his words.

A soft smile settles on Phil’s lips then. “You’re right. You don’t. That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to want someone.” His words give Dan a reason to pause, and before he has a chance to fully process them, Phil steps closer still, brushing his lips along Dan’s cheekbone with a featherlight touch. “Bye, Dan,” he breathes before stepping away.

Dan has little choice but to watch him leave then, staring after him with a heavy heart, and eyes that are brimming with wetness. He doesn’t even torture himself with watching Phil’s figure grow smaller the further away he gets, instead dropping down to his knees over his own grave. He doesn’t try to stop himself as the tears start flowing, and the sobs that wrack his body are loud and echoing in the otherwise serene quiet of the cemetery. It feels ridiculously therapeutic to just let out all the pent up emotion, but he has to admit that it feels like a shitty deal, to be immortal for all intents and purposes, and yet still plagued with stupidly human feelings and emotions.

An indeterminable amount of time passes as he kneels there, crying until the skin around his eyes are raw and he feels completely drained. He’d never really craved human food since being Chosen, but he’s positive he could go for a nice tall glass of water right about now, even though he knows he doesn’t actually need it to replenish himself. Crying that hard and for that long had taken a lot out of him, and if he actually had somewhere to go, he’d probably even sleep, for the first time in years.

When he manages to calm himself down, he takes a moment to just think over the things that Phil had said. He was right, on almost every level. Dan was always alone, but in a way, it was his own fault. Phil had tried, so hard, to be there for him, and Dan just left like it hadn’t mattered. The only problem was is that it had and he desperately wished that Phil knew how much that evening meant to him, how much he regretted leaving the way he did.

And maybe it was wild and foolish of him but dying had taught him a lot about time and how precious it really is, and regardless of how or when they met, he felt that maybe for the first time he’d found someone who he could like, although he dared not think further than that. It hurt enough just to think about how much he truly wanted Phil in the first place, he didn’t need to add to the pain by thinking about what could become of them in the future, depending on whether or not he got his shit together.

And maybe it was a bad time to do it, perhaps he should have worked on himself and his flaws as a human, but as it was, he was no longer alive, and he had to work with what he had. And what he had was a beautiful, kind, gentle man who wanted him, wanted to be with him, and he wasn’t so sure that he was willing to let that go.

So without any consideration about what Phil might think, Dan stands and makes his way out of the cemetery, with every intention of showing up at Phil’s door and begging for a do-over. He didn’t deserve it, but he desperately wanted it, and begging was just another thing he wasn’t afraid of getting on his knees for. No matter how embarrassed it might make him to admit that he was wrong, he would do it, because maybe some things are worth fighting for, and maybe this would be one of them. He desperately hoped it was, because he didn’t think he could handle the heartbreak that came with yet another let down.

~~~

Dan finds the apartment with little difficulty, considering he’d only been there a few months ago, but he was still a little uncertain if it was the right door number after he’d knocked several times, only to be met with silence. He was shifting nervously out in the hallway, his eyes cast down as he waited impatiently for the door to open. He wasn’t concealed this time, as he knew from experience that security cameras could pick up the interactions he had with the physical world when he was, and there was nothing that scared humans more than unexplained movement of objects on shitty camera footage.

He waited for a few more moments before raising his fist to knock again, embarrassed at how much noise he was probably causing right now. He hoped Phil didn’t have nosey neighbors, or if he did then hopefully they were out right now.

After another few moments of futile knocking, Dan decides that Phil just isn’t home right now. He had assumed that he’d have come straight here, and that’s basically what Dan had done, using his helpful little flying trick to get there faster. Still, he knew he couldn’t have beaten Phil there, so hopefully he was just out living his quasi-human life and would be back later. Resigned to this idea, Dan settles on the floor just outside his door, leaning back against the wood with a sigh.

He had no idea how long it would be until Phil returned, but he decided to settle in for a while, moving until he feels properly comfortable on the floor. Deciding that he probably won’t be back for a while, Dan allows his eyes to drift shut, promising himself that he’d just rest them for a moment.

The last thought he has before he falls into unconsciousness is that it would be well embarrassing if he were to still be asleep when Phil returned.

~~~

“Dan,” a voice says from somewhere up above, exasperated but confused. “Dan, wake up, you’re blocking my door.”

Dan groans as he stretches out, his hand hitting something with a loud thud. Pain shoots up his arm at the feeling, and he whimpers. “Wha?” He mumbles when he hears the voice speak again, struggling to blink his eyes open properly.

When he does, it barely takes him a minute to figure where he is, and why. Suddenly, he’s very awake, and he sits up quickly, looking around at his surroundings before his eyes settle on the man in front of him. He has to crane his neck back a little to meet the questioning gaze, but when he does, he feels nothing but inexplicable relief in his veins.

“Hey,” Phil says, confusion lacing his tone.

“Hi,” Dan responds with a croak, his voice feeling severely underused. He clears his throat and wonders idly just how long he’s been sitting there asleep. He struggles to remember what day it was when he showed up at Phil’s flat, and he thinks he’s almost positive that it was a Monday.

“How long have you been here?” Phil asks quietly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stares down at Dan, a confused and guarded expression on his face.

Dan sits up slowly, a little relieved that other than some soreness, he feels fine. Thank fuck for immortal bodies, he supposed. “Um… Not sure? Since um… since we were at the cemetery together? I came here a few hours after that…”

Phil’s eyes widen then, although he backs up to give Dan some space when he stands. “That was…” he seems to consider it for a moment. “That was almost a week ago, Dan.” He sounds disbelieving, and honestly Dan can’t blame him. Dan was shocked himself that he’d managed to lay there asleep for that long. Something else piques his interest then, and he can’t help but ask.

“Why were you gone for so long?” He asks softly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he awkwardly tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He doesn’t miss the way Phil stiffens in front of him. “I needed to get away from here for a while. I was… I was kind of a mess after… you know.” Dan nods at this, chewing on his lips as he tries to decide the best way to say what was on his mind. Before he gets the chance, Phil’s speaking again. “Why are you here, Dan?”

The bluntness of his question startles Dan a little, but he tries not to let it sting. He really did deserve it, if he was being completely honest. “I wanted to see you,” he says honestly, finally raising his gaze to meet Phil’s.

Phil quirks an eyebrow at him as if he doesn’t believe him. “Yeah?” He says. When Dan nods, he copies the action before moving to step closer to his door. “Well, you’ve seen me, so…” He trails off, as if waiting for Dan to get the hint and leave.

The hint was received, and while it hurt a little to hear that Phil didn’t seem to want anything to do with him, Dan had already convinced himself that he wanted this, and he was going to do his best to see it through. He takes a deep breath before stepping in Phil’s way. “I want to try again,” He says firmly, staring Phil dead in the eyes.

Phil nearly drops his keys. “What?” He asks, sounding bewildered.

Dan tries not to smile at the surprise. “I know I basically ruined things already, but I’m sorry. I…” He hesitates then, a little nervous to be so openly vulnerable with someone so new to his life. He catches the questioning glimpse in Phil’s gaze, and he knows, he just knows that this is a person who is going to accept him, no matter what comes out of his mouth next. “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispers, almost as if he’s afraid of the words.

If Phil had seemed surprised before, it’s nothing compared to the expression that colors his face now. He seems to be at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing several times before he seems to settle on something to say. “Do you want some tea?” He asks, still sounding stunned.

Dan smiles at this, and he can feel his dimple caving in. The way Phil’s gaze darts down to it is obvious, and Dan wishes he could see Phil’s answering smile all the time. “I’d love some tea,” he replies easily.

Phil nods, and Dan steps aside so he can unlock the door and lead him inside. “I’m sorry you had to wait out there by yourself for so long. I needed to cool off, so I was in New York for a few days.” Phil rattles off an explanation as they toe their shoes off by the door before heading to the kitchen.

Something tightens in Dan’s chest at the idea that he was the reason that Phil needed a break, but he knows that if he wants this to work, the guilt and self-loathing have no place in his life anymore. “Did it help?” He asks gently, interested in the answer.

Phil hesitates from where he’s pouring water into a kettle, and his eyes flicker over to Dan momentarily. “I don’t know yet,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to the task at hand. “I think it depends on what exactly you came here to say.” He sounds nervous as he says it, and Dan’s chest tightens at the idea that he’s the reason that this man sounds so apprehensive right now.

Dan takes a deep breath then, as it’s clear that Phil’s giving him an opportunity to spill his guts. He plans to do just that, but he needs a moment to breathe first. He waits until Phil has turned around to face him before stepping closer with a smile. He stops when there’s only about a foot between them, trying not to overstep any boundaries that Phil may have built up since the last time they were intimate, which he undoubtedly had.

“I thought a lot about what you said, and… well, you were right. About pretty much all of it.” Dan lets out a little laugh then, and he can’t quite help the bitterness in his tone.

“Dan, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ Phil starts, his face flooded with an apologetic look.

Dan cuts him off then with a wave of his hand. “No, really, Phil. I think I needed to hear it, in like a weird way. If you hadn’t told me my problem, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

Phil tilts his head then, looking at Dan with a look of almost fondness in his eyes. “Yeah? And why are you here?” He prompts gently.

Taking another deep breath, Dan closes his eyes. He feels it’ll be easier to admit the truth if he can’t see the object of his affections. “I have feelings for you, and I know we don’t know each other very well, but I want you too. If you’ll still have me, that is.” He opens one eye to assess Phil’s reaction as soon as he rushes the words out, and as soon as he sees the expression on Phil’s face, he forgets why he’d even been worried.

The smile on Phil’s face is heartwarming, and Dan just wants to kiss him. He wonders if that’s a thing he’s allowed to do now, but he knows he needs to wait and see if that’s what Phil wants too. “You think you could say that again?” Phil asks quietly, stepping closer to Dan and bringing a hand up to his neck, his thumb stroking along his jawline in a soft caress. “I want you to say it again,” Phil whispers, bringing his lips closer to Dan’s and gently brushing them with his own. Dan’s eyes slip closed on their own accord, but Phil pulls away slightly. “With your eyes open,” he finishes, his blue eyes intense as they lock with Dan’s.

Dan swallows hard at the demand. Slowly, so that Phil doesn’t startle, he brings his hands up and gently cradles Phil’s face, stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones. “I have feelings for you,” he repeats. “I want you to still want me, because I want you. I want you in every way,” Dan’s voice drops lower then, and he brushes his lips near Phil’s teasingly. “Please,” he breathes against the soft skin.

He can feel Phil’s resolve crumbling, as the hand not on his body yet moves up to fist Dan’s shirt, while the other one tugs him closer. Phil doesn’t even respond with words, he just pulls Dan closer, pressing their lips together with a passion that Dan matches, his own hands slipping down to cup Phil’s throat. The sounds of their lips smacking apart echoes in the kitchen, and Dan can feel himself growing in his pants as the kiss grows more heated, and he knows what way he wants this night to end, but he can’t have that unless it’s what Phil wants, too.

“Do you want me?” Dan breathes against Phil’s lips when they pull apart for air.

“Yes,” Phil gasps, shifting so that his hips press into Dan’s, proving to him what they can do for each other. “Please,” he responds then.

“Yeah? Can we-“ he starts, shifting to try and move out of the kitchen.

Phil doesn’t seem to like this idea, because he just tugs on Dan’s shirt, dragging him back into another kiss. Dan responds, but he’s smiling too hard to continue, making it next to impossible for their lips to stay connected. “I want-“ Dan begins when he pulls away yet again. He drops his hands to Phil’s belt loops and tugs to grind against him. “Can we go to your room? Please?” He requests breathlessly.

“Fuck,” Phil breathes out, his eyes closing as his head drops back a little. “Yeah, c’mon.”

He begins to lead the way out of the kitchen, but Dan quickly steps away and shuts the kettle off, sending Phil a smirk when he smiles sheepishly. “In a hurry, Philip?” Dan teases with a grin.

Phil shrugs, grabbing Dan’s hand and tugging him down the hall. “I have some other things on my mind,” he says with a shrug, shoving open his bedroom door and dropping Dan’s hand to tug his shirt off.

Dan watches as the fabric gets tossed to the side, mesmerized until he realizes what’s expected of him. He blushes slightly when he sees the soft gaze that Phil is studying him with, but quickly tugs off the t-shirt he has on, tossing it away carelessly. “Is this-“ he begins, a familiar panic settling in as he starts overthinking.

“This is fine, Dan. Everything is fine. You want this, yeah?” Phil asks, coming over to drop his hands to Dan’s hips, stroking the skin above his jeans with gentle fingertips.

Dan nods, sighing when he feels Phil’s lips meet his forehead, trailing down to his temple and across his cheekbones before moving to the other side and tracing the same path. Eventually his lips find Dan’s and it’s calming in a way that something so new really shouldn’t be, but for some reason it doesn’t feel new exactly, it feels more like coming home after a long trip, and Dan is drowning in the feeling. “I want you,” He breathes against Phil’s lips when they separate.

“Yeah?” Phil murmurs. “And I want you. So, we’re fine, love. I’ve got you, and we’re fine.” He kisses Dan again before moving back a little. “Do you want to do it proper this time?” He asks, and Dan gets what he means without having to actually ask.

Dan swallows hard, trying to get rid of his nerves. “Yes,” he breathes against Phil’s skin, dropping his face into the crook of Phil’s neck where he can trail kisses there.

Phil groans and tilts his head to give him better access, but it doesn’t last long before he’s pulling away and dropping his hands to Dan’s jeans. “You first? Or me?” He asks quietly. Dan’s heart flutters at how careful Dan is being to make this a good experience for him. It’s endearing in the best possible way.

“Me,” Dan replies, his length hardening at the idea of Phil being almost fully clothed while he’s vulnerable like that. Something about it is ridiculously hot to him. Phil only nods before he starts working on pulling Dan’s jeans off.

A few minutes and only a little struggling with the stubbornly tight fabric later, Dan’s jeans are on the floor, joined by his pants, leaving him standing bare in front of Phil. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it could have been, since Phil had already seen him, but it still gave him a thrill.

“So beautiful,” Phil breathes, pressing his lips to Dan’s shoulder before his hands start working at his own jeans. Dan has another brief flash of panic, wondering if it’s too much too soon, but when he voices this fear to Phil in a quiet whisper, the other man only laughs. “No, love. We’re immortal, remember? We’ve got all the time in the world, literally, to learn every nuance of each other’s personalities. I think we get a free pass.”

And that does it for Dan, he’s able to push the guilt at the situation out of his mind and instead watch eagerly as Phil throws his jeans across the room. He hesitates for only a moment, his eyes flickering up to Dan’s before he tugs the pants off and they join his jeans somewhere. Dan’s a simple man, so when he has a cock in front of him, he’s obviously going to look, and in this case, he hopes touch.

Phil is a little longer and thicker than him, and Dan can already tell it’s going to be a great night. Unable to help himself, he drops to his knees and opens his mouth, waiting for Phil to get the hint. His blue eyes widen comically when he sees Dan’s actions, and he seems to be at a loss for words at first.

“Jesus, Dan,” Phil swallows hard. “You look so fucking…” He doesn’t finish, because Dan is tugging on his hand before reaching up and wrapping a hand around his length as soon as he’s close enough. “Not much teasing, or I’ll finish too soon,” Phil warns as Dan wraps his lips around the head of Phil’s cock, suckling gently as he winks up at Phil to indicate he’d heard his instructions.

Ever the good boy, Dan is careful not to go too hard on the blowjob, knowing that it was very likely that Phil might actually come to soon if he were to enact some of his usual tricks. Eventually, though, he pulls away and looks up at Phil with a curious smile. “Lube?” He asks, biting his lip as he waits for the answer.

Phil nods before gesturing to the bedside table. “Second drawer,” He mumbles as Dan rises and moves over to collect what they needed. Phil moves to sit at the edge of the bed, watching Dan with what he assumes is a fond smile.

When Dan settles onto the bed, he places the bottle of lube on the mattress between them. “Do you want to do it, or watch me?” He asks, keeping a hand on it in case he wanted to watch.

A hungry look is on Phil’s face as he takes the bottle. “I want to. Lay back, love.” Dan follows his instructions, and soon Phil has a lubed-up finger at his entrance. “Good?” He asks, pressing a kiss to Dan’s thigh. Dan nods. Phil wastes no more time as he begins stretching Dan open, scissoring his fingers in a way that should honestly be illegal. Dan can’t help the little whimpers that keep falling from his lips, but Phil doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Eventually, Phil seems to decide he’s finished, and pulls his fingers out slowly, causing Dan to whine loudly. “Phil.”

“Hush,” Phil laughs, pressing a kiss to Dan’s knee, which is propped up close to Phil’s face. “Are you ready?” He asks, lining himself up as his eyes bore into Dan’s seriously.

Dan slowly nods, taking stock of himself. He wasn’t used to being fucked while he was on his back, and especially not face to face like this, so he was trying to wrap his head around it and convince himself that he wasn’t trapped. “I’m ready,” He mumbles when Phil seems a little hesitant to start.

Phil nods then, and slowly he begins pressing in, letting out little sighs as he works in inch after inch of himself. “Feel so good,” Phil mumbles. He sounds blissed out already, and while that makes Dan happy, he can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. It’s his silence or rigidness that gives him away, and Phil pauses as he opens his eyes to study him. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, brushing his lips against Dan’s temple.

Dan nods, then shakes his head just as fast. “No,” he gasps out, trying not to freak out. “Feel… I’m trapped. Feel trapped,” he stutters out eventually.

Phil looks surprised, but nods and pulls out, sitting back to give Dan some space. “Do we need to stop?” He asks, concern coloring his face. He doesn’t look remotely annoyed at the pause, just concerned for Dan’s wellbeing. The thought almost makes Dan smile.

“No, just…” Dan sits up then, moving to the side of the bed. “Maybe need a new angle,” he says in lieu of explanation, swinging one leg over Phil’s hips and settling himself over him. His hand reaches back to find Phil’s cock, guiding it to his entrance with deft fingers. “Ah,” he moans out as he begins settling down on it, taking a little more in with each controlled bounce. “This is-“ he stops, sucking in a breath at the drag inside him. “Better, this is better,” he gasps out.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil swears beneath him, his eyes clouded over with lust as he looks up at him. “Look so good like this, fuck.”

Dan smiles down at him. “Am I pretty like this?” He asks, his mouth just running away from him at the pleasure he’s feeling.

Phil’s gaze softens at this. “You’re beautiful, Dan. Absolutely gorgeous.”

The praise makes Dan’s cheeks flush with color, but then Phil is letting out little whines as his bounces become more even and the pace is smoother, and Dan can’t help but grin with pride. He did that.

He doesn’t have much time to gloat though, because when he leans forward a little to say something dirty to Phil, the head of his cock brushes against that little bundle of nerves that lights his body on fire in the best way possible. “Fuck!” He cries out. Without his conscious consent, his wings expand at the feeling, and he doesn’t have the concentration to will them away at the moment.

“Oh shit,” Phil whimpers beneath him. Dan drops his gaze down, thinking he might be in pain or something, but Phil’s gaze is locked on the ebony sheen of Dan’s wings. “That’s so hot,” he breathes out, his hand reaching up as if to touch them. He startles then, as if he hadn’t realized he was even doing it, and his gaze darts up to Dan as he retracts his hand a bit. His mouth opens in what Dan expects is an apology, but Dan is having none of it.

“Here,” he breathes, taking Phil’s hands and guiding them to the smooth feathers covering the wide expanse of wings. “I like-“ he chokes on his words when Phil begins running his fingers against the feathers, running his fingers against them rather than in the direction they grow. The sensation is unreal, and Dan shivers. “That, fuck, like that,” he whines.

“Yeah?” Phil breathes, doing it again. “This good?” He asks as he continues doing it, shifting his feet up to help press his hips up to meet Dan’s with his bounces.

“Yeah, just-“ Dan cuts himself on with a moan when Phil lands a particularly well-aimed thrust into his prostate. “Tug,” he moans out. “Just, like, lightly tug on them. Feels good.”

Phil does as he’s asked without question, but Dan can tell how apprehensive he is. It didn’t particularly feel great to have the feathers of your wings plucked or tugged out, but honestly it just added to the sensation here, in his mind. “Good?” Phil breathes.

Dan nods, then starts shaking his head frantically. “Perfect, it’s perfect,” he whines out, bouncing without inhibition.

With Phil tugging gently on the feathers and his every thrust hitting Dan in all the right places, it doesn’t take Dan long to release. When he does, he still, his wings retracting away from Phil’s fingers with the overstimulation as he rides out his orgasm. He lets out a string of words, and he’s sure that some of them were Phil’s name, sprinkled in with a collection of colorful swears. He squeezes around Phil, rotating his hips in tight circles to help him get off. It doesn’t take long before he feels Phil tense up beneath him, his mouth dropping open as he releases inside Dan.

They take a moment to catch their breath and calm down before collapsing against the bed, Dan sliding off Phil’s cock easily as he slumps onto the mattress. Their quiet for a few minutes, before Phil rolls over and studies Dan with a sweet, blissed-out smile. “Was that okay?” He asks, sounding a little nervous for the answer.

Dan rolls his eyes at the ridiculous question. “God, Phil. No, it was better. It was so perfect,” he breathes, pressing his lips to Phil’s neck in a grateful kiss.

“That good, huh?” Phil teases.

Dan nods, closing his eyes. “Mhm. I’m ready for a nap, now.”

“Thought you didn’t sleep?” Phil asks, sounding smug.

A smile crawls onto Dan’s face. “Don’t act cocky about it, sir. I just had a great orgasm and I’d hate to be mean to you now.”

Phil laughs, rolling over and tossing and arm over Dan. “Sure, love. I’ll keep that in mind.” He presses a kiss to Dan’s temple, a sweet gesture that has Dan’s heart squeezing.

“Shh, trying to sleep,” Dan mumbles, his eyes still closed.

“Right,” Phil snorts. Still, he grows quieter, obviously resigned to the idea of sleep. “Promise you won’t leave?” he whispers suddenly, rousing Dan from his almost-sleep.

Dan burrows further into his grip. “Swear on my mum’s life,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Phil’s collarbone. “Now, shh. Sleep time, babe.”

Phil laughs softly, and that’s the last sound Dan hears before he drifts off to sleep.

~~~

After going so many years without sleep, it really was a wild experience to wake up after being asleep for an indeterminable amount of time. Unlike last time, though, Dan wasn’t waking up on the floor of a hallway. Instead, he was waking up to sweet kisses on the back of his neck. He tries to pretend he’s still asleep, but he can’t help but release a pleased sigh at the feeling of Phil’s lips caressing the skin at the nape of his neck. The sound makes Phil freeze, and Dan chuckles quietly before finding his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss there.

“Morning,” Dan whispers. Phil seems to break out of his momentary frozen state. “I could get used to this,” Dan remarks quietly.

Phil giggles behind him. “So could I. Did you want breakfast?”

Dan shifts to look at Phil’s face in surprise. “You actually eat?” He asks, incredulously.

Phil has a horrified look on his face, but it’s quickly replaced with mock pity. “Babe, you really have no idea what you’re missing out on in the human world.”

With a smile, Dan presses a kiss to Phil’s cheek. “You can teach me.”

There’s a grin on Phil’s face now, and he ducks down to kiss Dan’s lips quickly. “I’d love to teach you all sorts of things,” he says, his voice full of excitement and innocence.

Dan quirks an eyebrow with a smirk. “That sounds promising,” he teases gently.

Rolling his eyes, Phil leans in and nips at the end of Dan’s nose. “It’s a promise,” he replies.

Dan pulls away enough to study Phil’s face for a moment, picking out the colors in his eyes as he stares at him. “I like you.” He says eventually, smiling softly after the announcement.

Phil grins, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “You just like me?” He asks with that cheeky little grin.

Dan rolls his eyes at him, but gets serious with his answer, glancing down at where their naked bodies are still very much intertwined. “I feel like it’s too early for me to tell you I love you,” he breathes.

Phil seems to suck in a huge breath then, and Dan holds his own, hoping it isn’t a bad thing. “Do you?” Phil asks in a near whisper.

Dan frowns. “What?”

“Love me.”

There’s a pause, and then Dan leans his head back and stares up at Phil with a soft smile. “I think I’m starting to,” he breathes before leaning in for a kiss.

And for the first time in a long time, Dan didn’t feel so alone.

#phanfiction #fallin all in you fic #fallen angel!dan #angel!phil #light angst #fluff #smut #19k words #inspired by laurainlilac's art #ty for letting me write this based on your art u r an angel too friend

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kaytewrites · 7 years ago

Text

the quick release || masquerada: songs and shadows || chapter seven

(a/n: i am SO SORRY for the wait but like… life comes @ u fast y'all but its here!!! chapter 7!!!! and i’ve officially given up bc i think it’ll probably be another two chapters before this is over but like i said that two chapters ago and HERE WE ARE ANYWAY so like… be patient w/ me blease im trying ;^;

i made this an extra 1000 words bc y'all had to wait so long n im sorry but i hope y'all like it!

more kisses for the boys. more boys kissing. more boys being vulnerable and soft w/ each other. it’s Good all around.)

also on AO3!

They eventually wander back to the carriage - Alena instantly perks at seeing them emerge from the brush, shouting a happy “Hello, sirs!” while Ricardo blinks himself awake.

“Did you have a good time, sirs?” Alena chirps, far too chipper for how late (or how early) it is.

Tristan nods, glancing back at Vasco. He’s still got that ridiculous smile on his face, the faintest brush of red around his jaw where Tristan’s beard had rubbed it raw.

“Of course, dear Alena!” Vasco’s voice is just as chipper. It makes Tristan want to laugh, or kiss him, or both. It’s new, this want that blooms in his chest and makes his fingers grip his cane a little tighter.

Tristan shakes his head and hobbles back onto the carriage. “Hope nothing bothered you out here - sorry for keeping you both up so late.”

“’Sfine,” Ricardo mutters. “Not like we would’ve been sleeping anyway.”

Alena elbows him, making him glare at his sister. “What he meant to say is that it’s no trouble at all, Valencio.”

Tristan raises an eyebrow. “As long as both of you are fine.” Tristan settles on his seat, Vasco settling next to him just like he did on the ride here - but it feels different, now. Vasco makes sure to settle on his left side, snaking a hand between them in the dark to twine his fingers in Tristan’s own, and it’s all so adolescent and silly that he can’t stop the little laugh that bubbles up from his throat.

“What?” Vasco mumbles, but the grin on his face says he knows exactly why Tristan’s a step away from giggling.

He decides to change topics, speaking low. “Do you think the twins are alright?”

Vasco frowns, a quick twitch of his lips. “Not at all. Cicero spends more time with them than I do, and Kalden besides. They might be the ones to speak to. Suddenly concerned with the Tvothes welfare?”

Tristan nods. “Yes, I suppose. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a parent the entire time they’ve been with the Registry. They’ve been with us for a year now, maybe two. I know the Citte isn’t - wasn’t - isn’t kind to the Contadani, but I never thought…”

“Orphans were always more of a Sorelle affair, weren’t they?” Vasco’s voice is carefully blank, nonchalant in a way Tristan is learning means he cares far more than he lets on.

Tristan casts a glance to the twins; Alena is staring forward, chipper demeanor lost now that she doesn’t think eyes are on her. There are dark circles under her eyes from what he can see, and she slumps in her seat, exhausted. All of this he could attribute to the time, but considering her behavior earlier… Ricardo fares no better, either, though he wears his exhaustion plainly, not hiding it behind a cheery veneer.

He resolves to ask Cicero about the twins’ welfare once they return. He carefully settles his head on Vasco’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist.

“The world is changing,” he thinks he hears Vasco say, but he’s asleep between one breath and the next.

They arrive back at Seimora’s Throne in the early hours of the morning, the horizon just barely tinged with the light of the sun. The twins give them both a salute as they disembark, looking more dead on their feet than ever.

“Do they have rooms here?” Tristan asks Vasco, to which he nods.

“They’ll stable the horses first, because they’re nothing if not dependable, and rest for the day - well, Ricardo will. Alena will probably sleep for an hour before forcing herself awake again.” Vasco shakes his head, tutting. “The girl never stops. She’s officially apprenticed, did you know that? Artigiani, if I’m not mistaken. Ricardo, too, though he is a Fabra.”

Tristan did not know. He didn’t even think the twins had the aptitude for that kind of careful maskwork - and yet, here they are. Color him surprised.

Vasco looks at him with some inscrutable emotion in his eyes. “You’ve always been a Masquerada, Tristan.” The smile on his face is not unkind, but it’s - it’s as though he’s staring a thousand yards off, reliving something in memory. “This is entirely normal for a Contadani.”

And of course Tristan knew. He knew how bad it was, he was Valencio, how could he not? But there was politics, and people, and Maskrunners - and somewhere along the way, the Contadani got left on the wayside.

He starts walking toward the Throne, a frown on his face. Vasco is just a step behind.

“Tristan, are you alright? You seem unfocused.”

It’s Kalden’s voice that breaks him out of his reverie. It’s been three days since his excursion, and he’s been absent-minded ever since, thoughts always finding a way to twist back to Vasco, or the Contadani, or the Tvothes. “I’m fine, Kalden. Why do you ask?”

“Mmm. I can see why you and Cicero are so close. You both do the same thing when there’s something on your mind.” He removes his hand from Tristan’s stump, handing his shirt back to him. Tristan tugs it on, tying off the end on his right arm while Kalden speaks. “Deflect to me so I can inform you what your tells are. Cicero does it far more than you do, but that may be because I spend more time with him.” Kalden sighs, shaking his head. “Both of you are a mess.”

“I do not-”

Kalden silences him with a look, and Tristan shuts his mouth.

He finishes tugging on his shirt before he speaks again.

“Vasco, I suppose. The Tvothes, too, but…” Tristan shrugs. “Were you ever Contadani, Kalden?”

The only thing betraying his annoyance is a twitch of the eyebrow and his carefully measured tone. “A rather personal question, Valencio.”

He winces. “Sorry. It’s just-”

Kalden smiles, annoyance smoothing over into understanding. “You might just be the only one of this little circle that hasn’t been Contadani, Tiziana excluded. And I presume this question doesn’t come from nowhere. Perhaps something to do with what’s been bothering you?”

“Now who’s asking pointed questions,” Tristan mutters, but doesn’t answer.

Kalden is silent for a long moment, pulling his mask from his face and letting it fade into the ether. He huffs. “Alright, Tristan. Cicero’s door, as well as mine, are always open to you.” There’s a strange twist to his mouth as he speaks the next, his eyes almost guarded. “If there is anything - anything - you may wish to speak about, we are always here for you.”

Tristan feels as though he’s missing something, but he’s already pushed as far as he dares. He doesn’t want to break the bounds of Kalden’s kindness - woe be unto the man that turns a good man hard, and all that. “Thank you,” he says instead.

Kalden nods. “If there’s any more phantom pain, tell me. There are some exercises I want to go through with you next time.” He levers himself off the chair next to the bed, heading for the door. “I think I’ve taken enough of your time today, though, Tristan.”

“You’re never a burden, Kalden. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Tristan speaks with a smile. He really does enjoy the other man’s company, for all his occasional crypticism. At least he’s not as bad as Vasco.

And then, there’s that same almost-guarded look in Kalden’s eyes. “I was serious when I said - anything,” he says.

Tristan struggles to put together what he means - it’s obvious there’s something he’s missing, something Kalden hopes he’ll put together himself so he won’t have to speak it aloud. “Alright,” he responds slowly, hoping Kalden will just assume he understands.

Kalden just sighs, giving him a wave as he leaves. Damn. Guess he wasn’t that convincing after all.

He likes to think now that everything’s over, this is the easy part. He’s missing an arm, sure, and he’s still limping, months after the worst chapter of his life closed with his almost-death, but he’s alive. The Citte is alive. The Consilio argue, sure, but they agree more often than not and that’s a miracle in and off itself. The guilds have become more peaceable, less fractured. It’s a world Tristan never thought he’d see. It’s a world he’s glad to wake up to.

Not everything is perfect, though.

He dreams like this: snapshot images of the Spire burning around him, smoke in his lungs his throat his eyes - he blinks, and the world changes, stars in his eyes and cold in his chest. He reaches for a sword he doesn’t have with an arm he doesn’t have, either, and when he drops to his knees, there’s a sneering face above him, sword at his throat, and he’s falling as they kick him back off the bridge. He claws at the mask on his face, begging it to save him one last time, but it flutters to dust in the air, to ether, and he knows he must be dead, must be, it’s the only way they glow like that -

“Tristan!” calls a voice to his side, and he’s darting up from his desk and whipping his arm out wildly, trying to push away whatever’s trying to hurt him next -

It takes him a long moment to come back to himself. “Vasco?”

He’s got a hand to his nose, and something conspicuously red is dripping from between his fingers. “Ages. This how you greet a friend?” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but it’s smothered by his wince.

“Ages, ages, Vasco, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think-”

He gives a short sort of cut-off laugh, holding his nose pinched between two fingers. “Next time, I’ll let you nap.”

Tristan ushers Vasco to the bed, making him sit and grabbing a cloth from the bedside table to dab at the blood. He inspects it carefully, moving Vasco’s hands away with a huff. It doesn’t look broken, which he’s thankful for - ages. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he’d actually broken Vasco’s nose. Probably feel even more guilty than he already does.

Vasco looks far too bemused by the whole affair. “If I’d known all it took to get your attention was waking you from a nap, I’d have done it more often - even with the danger to my face.” It’s a joke and a question all in one - Tristan can hear the unspoken how often do you wake fighting? in his voice.

Tristan doesn’t answer. He has a feeling it’s far more often than either of them would like.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead, and prepares himself to summon his mascherine. He can at least heal this, his own problems be damned -

- but Vasco rests a hand on his arm, distracting him. “Now now, you’re a hard working man. I won’t begrudge you a nap at your desk - though your bed is barely ten feet away, you know, and much softer than the one they gave me.” He emphasizes by leaning back against the pillows, sighing - and then flinging a hand up with a wince when he jostles his swelling nose with the motion. “Damn,” he grins, and then drops the grin when that, too, exacerbates the injury.

Tristan feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips, but the guilt still writhes in his chest. “I shouldn’t have been sleeping, anyway - I knew you were coming by, and I know how I am when I’m woken.” It’s an answer of a sort to the question Vasco didn’t ask.

Vasco’s face takes on that inscrutable emotion again - Tristan is becoming more familiar with it by the day. He redirects the conversation ever so slightly, which Tristan is grateful for. “Does it look broken, then?”

“No, thankfully. Just bruised.”

“Damn. Maybe a broken nose could enhance my ruggedly good looks - how about you punch it again for good measure?”

“You absolute bastard,” Tristan admonishes. Vasco has a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, and Tristan knows it has to hurt his nose, but he doesn’t even flinch.

Tristan finishes cleaning up Vasco’s face with a deft, practiced hand - most of the waterbrands were taught at least rudimentary first aid, Tristan included, seeing as it’s the element most tuned to healing. He makes to summon his mascherine again, but Vasco shakes his head. “Nah. I think it’ll be fine.”

Tristan thinks of all the times Vasco has seen him struggle with the thing, and realizes Vasco is much kinder than he gives himself credit for.

He’s holding a new cloth to his nose, but now he’s leaned back against the pillows and the headboard. Tristan shutters the thought that he looks good there before it even begins to float around in his head. He just punched the man in the face, not three days after kissing him -

Tristan feels his cheeks heat, and the silence suddenly becomes thick, awkward between them.

“Have you seen the twins recently?” Tristan asks, for lack of things to fill the space. He still hasn’t asked Cicero about them, and mentally kicks himself.

“Nope,” Vasco answers, popping the ‘p’. “Not since our little adventure.” His eyes turn fond, and Tristan feels the distance between them keenly; he remembers it being closed, remembers Vasco’s breath mingling with his own in the night air -

Shame floods him, and he bites it back, shoves it down his throat, swallows it. What had he said? You’ll have to be patient with me. Ages, if he isn’t feeling it now.

Vasco’s face drops into a frown. “Tristan, I don’t - I was under the assumption we were on the same page.”

Tristan is quick to soothe, almost jumping off the bed in his haste. “No! Yes, I mean - we were - are - are on the same page. I just…” He slumps, running a hand through his hair. Oddly, he thinks about how he needs to get it cut, and shunts the thought from his mind to focus on the matter at hand.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you these past three days. It’s been,” he pauses; he knows his next words might hurt, but they’re the truth: “It’s been easier to not think about what happened, honestly. I don’t want to forget it, but -” He looks at Vasco, pleading. He doesn’t know what he wants; here, in the light of day, it’s harder to face than in the dream-soft haze of night.

Vasco’s lips twist into a frown. “Sorry for pushing you, then. If you’d rather forget-”

“Ages, Vasco, I just told you I didn’t want that!” Tristan lets his irritation seep into his voice. “I just think that maybe it’s - ill-advised at best. Or maybe I’m overreacting! There are barely even Legacies anymore,” and his voice tapers off, finally noticing the hurt look on Vasco’s face.

“So that’s what this is about,” Vasco breathes, and Tristan feels like a fool.

“Yes? No. Maybe. I don’t know!” The fight dies in him, irritation cooling to regret. “Sorry. You don’t - deserve this. I’m-” being a child, being foolish, being an idiot, he wants to finish, but the words die in his throat. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to be so patient with me.”

Vasco sighs, frown slipping from his lips to something fonder. “You’re an idiot,” he says, and when Tristan nods it makes him laugh; it’s the best sound Tristan’s ever heard, even when he winces and his nose starts bleeding again.

Tristan’s hand is dangerously close to Vasco’s where they lay on the bed, and he debates whether he should take hold of it for far too long - long enough that Vasco notices his internal argument and just grabs his hand himself, pulling him closer on the bed. It’s a little precarious, and Tristan feels like he might fall off any moment now, but he can feel where Vasco’s hip presses against his own, and when Vasco winks up at him and drops the hand holding the cloth, well -

He’s always been weak to a pretty face.

He’s careful of Vasco’s tender nose as he leans forward, pausing just before their lips meet.

“Second thoughts, Valencio?” Vasco says, and there’s something underneath the words that makes Tristan want to wrap his arms around Vasco and never let go.

“Not now,” Tristan says instead, and means it.

The kiss is slow, careful, almost an apology. Vasco reciprocates readily, deepening it with a sigh.Tristan is lost in the sensation of it, Vasco’s hand sliding onto his neck, deft fingers curling into his hair. There’s intent behind the motion, and when Vasco tugs on it ever so slightly as he takes Tristan’s lower lip between his teeth, he gives a sharp inhale.

Vasco lets him breathe a moment - it’s new, here, with just them, nothing outside this room feeling more real than where they press together, Tristan near sitting in Vasco’s lap - and he’s just a touch overwhelmed.

Just a touch, he consoles himself, as Vasco’s nose begins to bleed anew. It prompts a string of curses from the other man, and Tristan laughs.

“You’re the one that gave me this damn problem,” he grumbles, but he can’t quite repress the smile on his lips. “What were you even working on before I arrived, anyway?”

“A report,” Tristan says, then wrinkles his nose. “I’ll probably have to rewrite it. I tend to - drool.”

Vasco laughs, which makes Tristan pout, which makes Vasco kiss him until he stops pouting. It’s a good deal, all things considered.

#masquerada #masquerada songs and shadows #trisco #tristan delzole #vasco tessitore #masquerada: songs and shadows #the quick release #the quick release chapter 7

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