#ngl..... this was alot of fun 2 write nd its not like the best thing ive ever written but..
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benfeldman · 7 years ago
Text
here comes the jackpot question in advance
summary: The one where Dan thought Phil hated him, so he hated Phil right back.
wc: 7.5k
tags: teenager au, new year’s eve, enemies to friends to lovers (in a way)
tws: underaged drinking, swearing (lots of it,,)
a/n: i wrote this lil diddy in the space between christmas and new year’s, aka when time doesnt feel real. my only betas were spellcheck and grammarly so sry if there are mistakes. im a sucker for enemies to lovers and teenager tropes,, what can i say.
read it on ao3 if that’s more your jam
Of all the places in the world, the last place he wants to be seen is McDonald’s. Dan’s exhausted from work and he just wants some chicken nuggets and an iced coffee, some comfort food to get him through the rest of the day. It’s super busy, so the possibility of him seeing someone from school is high, unfortunately, but he’s just come off of work which is killing him slowly so the risk is worth it. While he waits in the queue he mindlessly scrolls through Twitter.
It’s been a pretty fine holiday, as far as things go. Not too exciting, but nothing traumatic or particularly harrowing, either, which in his family is somewhat surprising. And it’s been nice getting to avoid schoolwork and classmates for a while, as the halls of sixth form can be crowded with some right pricks. In fact, there’s one prick in particular he hasn’t missed one bit, and as he sees him on his Twitter feed he’s reminded of how glad he is not to have to be in his presence every day.
The only reason he doesn’t have Phil Lester blocked and muted is because he doesn’t want to seem petty. All of his friends seem to like Phil just fine, but they also know that Dan isn’t exactly his number one fan. However, the last thing Dan wants is to cause drama where there doesn’t need to be, and a single tap of the ‘block’ icon could put him in a world of unnecessary trouble. But that doesn’t change the fact that Dan Howell, from the bottom of his heart, hates Phil Lester.
Though, surprisingly, no one else seems to. It seems like Dan’s the only one who can see past his persona of Mr. Perfectly Quirky and Funny and into who he really is. He’s not that funny, and he acts like he’s the smartest kid in the entire world but surely, he must not know everything, despite his best attempts to make everyone think so. Seriously, he’s always the first to raise his hand in chem, spewing facts left and right, which makes him the worst lab partner in the entire world. Phil always has to double check Dan’s work even though he’s right on all his arithmetic ninety-five percent of the time, he always makes some comment about how Dan’s handwriting is getting messier by the week, and worst of all, he’s never wrong. That’s what sucks about it. Phil Lester is never wrong. He’s perfect.
And he makes Dan feel like an idiot. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going out of his way to purposely paint Dan as this huge moron, which he knows he isn’t, but it’s hard not to feel that way around Phil. Perfect Phil, with the perfect hair and perfect life and the brightest eyes and the best jokes, who always manages to make Dan trip over his words and say the wrong thing, something stupid. He's always quick to point out Dan’s mistakes. Which, obviously, makes him feel great.
Yeah, well, out of sight, out of mind. Dan scrolls past and tries not to think about him. Why do people even retweet his stuff, anyways? He’s not that funny, but the whole school seems to think he’s some sort of comedy king or something, which gets old really fast, in Dan’s opinion. He’s a smartass, that’s what he is.
Dan finally gets his order in and moves to the side to wait for his food, when the voice he least expected to hear sounds from behind him.
“Dan?”
Sure enough, Dan turns around, and Phil sort of materializes before him, in a hoodie and skinny jeans and, funnily enough, glasses. Dan’s not a confrontational person. He’s not. Never has been. He tends to internalize his seething rage against Phil. Usually, it works. “Hi there,” Dan replies, and thus continues his long list of dumb things he says in front of Phil.
“Small world, eh?”
Dan shrugs. “I suppose.”
Silence. Then, “You getting food?”
“Yep.” Dan takes a breath. “You?”
“Yeah. But not for me. My brother’s been a bit under the weather since boxing day and he asked that I go get him some extra crappy food to help him feel better.”
Of course Phil’s not getting McDonald’s for himself. He’s way too perfect, way too healthy, for that. When doesn’t he have a pedestal to stand on? “Cool,” Dan says instead. “I mean, not about your brother. That sucks, I’m sorry.”
Phil laughs. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. How’s your break been?”
“Alright. A bit dull, I guess. But sometimes it’s better if nothing happens rather than something bad, right?”
“I agree. You never know when loose cannon racist Uncle Joe is gonna ruin Christmas dinner, right?”
“I’ve been there one too many times.”
“Same.”
Could it be true? Could Dan actually be getting through a conversation with Phil Lester without making a fool of himself or wanting to strangle him to death or both? Only time would tell, he reasons, but still. So far, so okay. “Get anything good for Christmas?” Phil asks.
“My brother and I got a Switch for Christmas, and we’ve both been playing it a lot. At least, when I’m not at work.”
Phil gasps. “No way! We did too!”
“That’s awesome,” Dan replies, a grin spreading across his face. “What games do you have?”
“So far we’ve just got Super Mario Odyssey, but we also really wanna get the new Zelda game so my brother can play it before he has to go back to uni.”
“I hear it’s amazing,” says Dan. “We want to get that as well.”
“Maybe if we both play it we can compare notes and stuff.”
“Yeah, maybe.” This is easily one of the longest conversations he’s ever had with Phil, and certainly the only one where he didn’t feel like self-destructing out of pure annoyance at Phil’s stupid face. The longest he’d gone without seeming like a massive idiot. Maybe there’s something about Phil wearing glasses that makes him easier to get on with.
“So, any New Year’s plans?”
“Well, I’m going to my friend Chris’ for New Year’s Eve. Since his birthday is so close, he always has a party then.” Okay, Dan, stop talking. It always really bothered him when people talked about their plans in front of others who weren’t invited. “It’s gonna be super cool, you should totally come, I mean, if you don’t have plans.” What the fuck are you doing? “He’s gonna have alcohol and stuff, too, and it’ll be legal, well, for him at least, and obviously he’ll have, like, real food too.” Are you done now, moron? “Anyways, yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to have you, if you were interested. I mean, you probably already have stuff planned, I’m sure.” He waits for his dumb tongue to stop betraying him, and eventually, he really does stop talking, exhaling slowly. Dan, one day your mouth is going to get you killed.
Phil raises his eyebrows, but he wears a huge grin. “That sounds like fun, Dan. I’ll totally come.”
Well, Dan was eventually bound to do or say something stupid, right? It wouldn’t be a real conversation with Phil unless it ended with Phil’s superior smirk and Dan’s sinking feeling of inadequacy. “Great, cool, see you then,” Dan says. Oh my god, you fucking idiot.
“Phil!” a guy from the front counter announces.
“Oh, that’ll be my food,” Phil says, still wearing the same stupid grin on his stupid face. He pushes through the small crowd and examines his bag. Dan, in the meantime, stares back at his phone. What did he just do? It’s not as though he has a great track record for getting along with Phil, and the last thing he wants to do is ruin his friend’s party. And besides, since when did he have permission to invite random people from school to any of his friend’s parties, birthday or otherwise? Was it not a teeny bit presumptuous of him to say ‘Oh Chris won’t mind another person in his flat, where he’ll have to accommodate more space for you as well as getting even more food and drinks?’ This was a mistake. Maybe it’s not too late to rescind the invitation, to make up a fake story about how the party isn’t happening anymore. “This yours?” Phil asks, pulling Dan out of his thoughts. He hands him a bag and a coffee.
Dan grimaces. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
“You must not have heard your name,” he explains. “It was next to mine, so I just picked it up.”
“Cheers,” Dan replies, but all he wants to do is melt into the floor and forget the past five minutes ever happened.
“Well, I’ve gotta run,” says Phil. “But I’ll see you New Year’s Eve, yeah?”
Now or never, Howell. “Uh, yeah. Great.”
“Cool. Bye, then!” He flashes Dan one last friendly smile before leaving. Of course, on top of it all, he gets the last word.
---
Since there’s not a lot Dan can do about it now, the next day he rings Chris to tell him about his grave mistake, to at least attempt to be a better friend.
“What’s up?” greets Chris upon answering. “Still coming to the party tomorrow, right?”
“About that,” Dan replies, biting his nails. “I kinda invited someone yesterday, is that okay? I know space can be tight but I promise I didn’t really mean to, and if you say no it’s fine, I just--”
“Dan, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He can practically hear the smirk in Chris’ voice, and he already feels a bit daft. “You’re totally fine, I promise. The more the merrier. Who’d you invite, if I might ask?”
Deep breaths. There’s no way he can phrase this without sounding like an idiot, so he might as well bite the bullet now. “Uh, you know Phil Lester, right?”
Chris actually laughs, which Dan half expected, because everyone knows they don’t like each other. Although, to be fair, he didn’t think Chris cared. “That’s who you invited?” he manages to choke out between giggles.
“Yeah, I know, shocker. Like I said, I didn’t mean to, I just felt bad because I mentioned you and stuff. It’s okay if you say no.”
“I didn’t, uh.” Chris stops. He releases another little giggle before continuing. “I didn’t mean to laugh, at least, not at you.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.” Dan rolls his eyes, though Chris obviously can’t see.
“It’s just kinda funny, because I already invited him, and as far as I know he already said he was coming.”
Dan’s eyes widen. “What the fuck?” he says, before he can stop himself. “I mean, no. Sorry, that’s not what I meant. Why did you invite him?”
“I dunno, we have Lit together and we got to talking about the break and I invited him to my party. Why did you invite him?”
“I already told you, it was a complete accident, and obviously I didn’t know he was already coming, otherwise I wouldn’t have, clearly.” Dear Christ, was he doomed to make a fool of himself every single time he was in front of Phil? Maybe the safest course of action would be to just never say anything to him or in front of him ever again. That still left the possibility of him physically doing something stupid, but at least he could minimize the damage.
“Well, either way, Phil’s already coming, so no need to worry. Anyone else you want to invite who I invited myself? PJ maybe? Or Hazel?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Dan responds through gritted teeth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great! See ya!” Chris hangs up, and Dan can hear him laughing.
It doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t Phil say anything yesterday? Did he derive pleasure in seeing Dan make an idiot of himself? How was Dan supposed to know he and Chris were friends? It wasn’t fair, it so wasn’t fair. Can Dan not have just one day where he doesn’t make a complete joke of himself?
No, not where Phil’s involved. As long as Phil is there, Dan isn’t safe from being the laughingstock of the universe.
---
December thirty first comes around, and a big part of Dan wants to just pretend he’s sick and stay home, because he can’t stand to be around Phil or even Chris, frankly, after embarrassing himself so profusely. But that would only make him seem like a coward, and Chris would make some smartass remark to Phil and make Dan seem foolish without him even being there, so he drudges himself over to Chris’ flat, despite his wishes, and hopes for the best. For all the good that’ll do him.
Dan buzzes into Chris’ place (by now he knows the code) and treks up the stairs. Chris answers the door before he can knock and shouts, “Dan! I’m so glad you could make it!” He leads him inside. “Everyone! Dan is here!”
‘Everyone’ shouts a chorus of slurred hoorays. So the drinking has already commenced. He greets a few people, saying hi to Hazel and PJ and Louise who are deep in a very loud conversation about the new Star Wars movie, and Tom and Jack, who are locked in perhaps the most intense game of go fish Dan’s ever seen. He gets some crisps and migrates over to the couch, where he collapses. He’d been working all day long; he’s actually kind of exhausted, and doesn’t feel like socializing, especially considering how sober he is compared to everyone else. He closes his eyes. It’s too much right now.
“Hey, stranger.” Dan opens his eyes and there sits Phil, on the other side of the sofa. Great. Just what he fucking needed right now.
“Hi,” he replies.
“You seem tired.”
“I was working overtime today. I kinda don’t want to be here, if I’m honest.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Phil says, and he smiles, and it’s so genuine, too genuine, just like everything Phil does, so overly thoughtful and perfect. “Get the new Zelda game?”
“Haven’t had time.”
Phil nods. “Me neither.”
Here’s what Dan doesn’t get: Why is Phil being so nice to him all of a sudden? He usually teases Dan for getting answers wrong in class or in the labs or for his messy penmanship or whatever else he chooses after spinning the things-to-make-fun-of-dan-for wheel. He’s the basic definition of a walking dick, though no one else seems to see that, and he has no reason to be nice to Dan. So, what’s changed? Maybe he’s still feeling post-holiday forgiveness or good tidings or whatever else. Maybe he’s planning to lure Dan into a false sense of security before yelling at him for his dumb hair that he didn’t feel like straightening or his old car or the fact that he foolishly invited him to Chris’ house even though he already had every intention of going. Or maybe you think too much.
“Is work going okay?” asks Phil.
“I suppose. It’s not fun but it could be worse, and at the end of the day, a paycheck’s a paycheck. Can’t complain.”
“Right.” Phil smiles. They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the music. At any moment, their truce could come toppling down, Dan realizes. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”
Dan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, Chris told me you were already coming, so.”
Phil smiles sheepishly, looking down at his shoes. “He did?”
“Yep. Thanks for the memo, by the way. Would have been nice to know before I, ya know, invited you to a party you were already going to, like a moron.” And just like that, the truce has ended.
“Hey! In my defense, I was really surprised that you did that, and I had no idea what to say, because it was really nice of you.” He shakes his head a little bit. “I just kind of went along with it. You weren’t, I mean, it wasn’t…” he stops. “It wasn’t moronic. Not at all. It was sweet.”
“Oh, that makes me feel loads better,” Dan scoffs. “Look, next time you wanna make a fool out of me, at least have the dignity to tell me to my face that I’m being an idiot.” Christ, he didn’t mean to sound like such an asshole. Why can’t you ever say anything right?
And, what’s worse, Phil actually looks hurt. “You weren’t a fool,” he insists. “You aren’t one, okay? And that wasn’t my intention at all.”
Right, Dan, there’s your cue to shut up now. “Oh, really? Because it feels like every time I talk you, all you want to do is make me feel like I’m nothing, like I’m a fucking idiot. So, excuse me if I thought this was just another one of your secret schemes to turn me into the laughingstock of the century.” He knows he needs to stop talking, but a huge part of him feels good for finally standing up to Phil for once in his life.
“I’ve never purposely tried to make you feel like an idiot, Dan, I promise.” His voice remains surprisingly even. “I’m sorry if you felt that way.”
Dan stares at the floor, hoping if he says nothing he can’t possibly say the wrong thing. “Me, a secret schemer?” Phil continues. “Honestly? You’re the one who doesn’t like me, Dan. I’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since we met but you don’t want to accept it, for whatever reason. Did you honestly think I was trying to trick you, or something?” Great. Perfect. Dan the Fucking Idiot strikes again. “Okay, whatever, don’t respond to me. But I wish we could be friends, Dan. You make up all these stories in your head about how much I hate you or whatever but they’re not true. They’re so far from the truth.”
“Well, great, I’m still the idiot, then.” Dan sighs and sinks into the cushions. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“No, I’m sorry, Dan,” replies Phil. “I’m sorry for lying to you about the party. Believe me, I was the one who felt like an idiot afterwards. I was way too awkward to tell you the truth so I kind of just didn’t say anything and hoped for the best. Which clearly didn’t work.”
Dan actually smiles at that, just a bit. “No, it did not,” he agrees.
“Can we just, like, start over?”
“Sure, yeah.”
“Cool.”
“Come on,” Phil prompts, sitting up. “Let’s go get something to drink. You look like you need it.”
Dan rubs his eyes and rises to his feet. “You have no idea.”
---
So it takes Dan vodka and coke to warm up to the idea of maybe being friends with Phil, but who could blame him? Everything’s happening so fast; Phil’s dragging him to the kitchen and talking to him like a pal as if the past ten minutes, or even the past few months, haven’t happened. Phil pours the bottle of vodka into a cup of soda and asks Dan what his favorite TV shows are and it makes no sense.
They’re too different, Dan always thought. That’s why they never got on, because they were so different they had no hope of ever understanding each other. It was a fruitless quest. But maybe they’re not. Phil gets a refill on his drink as well and laughs a bit and remarks that he forgot to ask Dan what he wanted, he just assumed he’d have the same thing Phil was having. Dan assures him that it’s fine and this is probably what he would have made for himself too and, maybe they’re not that different.
They move back to the couch and try to ignore the fact that everyone’s staring at them, and Dan really can’t blame them as they did just kind of have a loud fight a few minutes ago. The first sip of the drink doesn’t go down well, it never does, but it gets easier and easier and pretty soon Dan’s already starting to feel better. He knows this can’t last, because he has to drive home in about four and a half hours but for now he can pretend like the future isn’t coming. Instead of thinking about that, he and Phil just talk, they just sit on the couch and talk and it feels different and nice. That’s what he really can’t get over, most of all. Who knew Phil would actually turn out to be a nice person?
After a while, Chris decides to turn his music up, and Dan and Phil kind of have to shout at each other to be heard. “Okay, so can I just ask,” Phil starts, frowning slightly. “Why, uh, why don’t you like me? Or why didn’t you like me?”
Not really the question Dan wanted to hear, after trying to turn his opinion about Phil around. “I don’t dislike you.”
“That’s a lie and we both know it.”
Dan sighs. “Fine. It’s because you don’t like me.”
“I like you,” he insists. “I’ve always liked you.”
“You don’t really act like it.”
That stops Phil short. “Well, in my defense, you’re pretty easy to tease about stuff.”
“Hey!” Dan exclaims. “That’s not very nice.”
“Trust me, it’s not a bad thing.” Phil smiles a little bit. He’s got a nice smile. He should do that more often. “I only do it because…”
“Because why?”
“Because nothing.” He crosses his arms. “Be serious, why don’t you like me?”
Dan frowns. “Well, okay, it’s just, like…” Don’t mess this up, don’t mess this up. “You’re just so fucking perfect, like all the time. You come here and you’re the new kid but you make friends effortlessly because you’re perfect and you’re smart and always say the right answers in chem which infuriates me because I used to be that kid that always knew everything but you waltzed into class and you were always right and suddenly I knew nothing . Every single day you come to class, you make me feel so stupid because you’re so smart and your hair is perfectly straight and exactly what I wish my hair looked like, and you’re just as tall, if not taller than me but you manage to make it look good, and you’re always up there on your high horse and I feel inadequate around you all the time. And it, like, never made sense to me that other people couldn’t see how too perfect you are.”
It all comes out in a complete rush, before Dan can stop himself. Instantly he knows he’s overshared, as Phil winces when Dan looks at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I’m not perfect,” Phil finally says. “I can’t believe you think I’m perfect.”
“Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at yourself. You weren’t even at McDonald’s for you, you were getting food for your brother. Kind, thoughtful, healthy and conscientious Phil.”
Phil just shakes his head. “I can’t believe that’s why you don’t like me, because I’m too ‘perfect.’” He does air quotes around that last word.
“Whatever,” Dan mumbles. “I feel embarrassed even though I also feel like I’m right.”
“I’m furthest thing from perfect,” Phil protests. “I swear.”
“Okay, name one imperfection of yours, I dare you.”
“Fine.” Phil crosses his arms, accepting the challenge. “That day, when I went to McDonald’s. It, I…” He takes a sip of his drink before continuing. “Well, my brother wanted food, but my mom wouldn’t get it for him, and he doesn’t trust me to drive around anymore so he drove the car there, but waited in the parking lot for me to get the food, because he didn’t want to come inside himself.”
“What’s your point?”
“My parents won’t let me drive anymore, because I’ve failed my driving test three times and one time I was driving around and almost got in an accident because I’m literally the shittiest driver in the entire universe.” He sighs, and glances at Dan. “So. Strike one. I’m not perfect.”
“To be fair, no one passes their driving test the first time around. You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Okay. Fine. I wear contacts.”
“Yeah, well, I already guessed that. I saw you in glasses, remember?”
Phil’s face turns a brilliant shade of pink. “Oh, right.”
“And you looked cute in glasses, so, whatever, that doesn’t count as an imperfection. Try again.”
He thinks for a moment, then, “I dye my hair.”
“What?” Dan gasps.
“Yeah. I’m naturally a ginger but I look horrendous so, I dye it like once a month. It’s kind of embarrassing.” He takes another sip. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that.”
“Well, it looks great. I had no idea.”
“I’m only telling you that because I’m not sober, just so you know.”
“I’ll take it.”
Phil smiles. “But speaking of hair, I didn’t know yours was curly.”
“Oh,” Dan replies, cheeks turning red. “I didn’t have time to straighten it before going to work, and then I just couldn’t be bothered, so.” He self consciously brushes his fringe out of his eyes.
“I think it looks great.”
“Thanks.” He takes a sip. “Well, anyways, you get my point, right? You’re frustratingly perfect. It makes me want to strangle you sometimes.”
“You’ve completely misjudged me, Howell. I’m so far from perfect.”
He’s almost finished with his drink so he’s feeling extra brave, and before he knows it, he blurts, “Well, what do you think of me? You know, so I can also prove your misconceptions about me wrong.”
“I dunno. I think you’re really funny, you’ve got a sort of dark sense of humor that I like, and you’re also super passionate about your opinions, which I appreciate. Even when those opinions happen to be regarding your deep hatred of me.”
“Look,” Dan tries to defend, but Phil isn’t hearing any of it.
“No, it’s okay. You wear your heart on your sleeve. And you care an awful lot. That’s not nothing. I admire that about you.”
Dan’s heart stops in its tracks. His stomach churns. “I’m such an idiot,” he mutters to himself.
“Why, Dan?”
“I really thought you hated me,” he says quietly, wishing he could disappear.
“No, I don’t hate you, Dan. I feel like I know you, ya know? Like, I just have this feeling, like, I look at you and I know who you are. I wish I had that ability, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, you clearly had me all completely wrong in your head. But I can just see you for you. I know that you’re passionate and loyal and compelling and--”
“Guys!” Chris shouts from behind their place on the couch. “We’re about to play cards against humanity, and you have to play. Also you’re not allowed to say no because it’s my birthday.”
They begrudgingly sit around the dining table, with their friends who are all decidedly at least twice as drunk as Dan and Phil are, which is fine, but maybe a slight bit alienating. Dan’s tipsy, sure, but he’s not flat-out drunk, mostly because he has to drive home but also because he hasn’t eaten anything all day and the last thing he needs is to throw up at his friend’s place. Especially since Phil’s there, and, yeah, he really needs one more reason to feel like an idiot in front of him. But, Phil doesn’t think of him as an idiot, in a strange turn of events. He’s not one hundred percent sure that he believes him, but why would he lie?
“Do you guys need a refill?” Hazel asks them, nodding to their almost empty cups.
“I’m good, thanks,” Dan says. “I’m driving, so.”
She shrugs. “Suit yourself. Phil?”
“I’m alright.”
“God, do you two even know how to have fun?” She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Whatever, more for us fun people.”
Hazel makes her leave to the kitchen to refill her drink and Phil laughs a little. The sight makes Dan’s heart rate speed up a little; Phil sticks his tongue out of his mouth and his eyes crinkle in the perfect way and all of his teeth show and okay, okay, why is he thinking like this right now? What just happened to make him notice something like that, something so trivial and inconsequential? Why has Dan never noticed that Phil’s eyes aren’t actually blue, but they’re blue and green and gold and they kind of look like a kaleidoscope?
He has to turn his mindset back around before it’s too late. “What, Goody Two Shoes Phil doesn’t want to get drunk?” Dan teases.
“Yeah, well, my parents are already mad enough at me as it is. I don’t need another reason to upset them.”
“Why are they upset with you?”
“They’re just…” He sighs. “I guess they’re not mad, they just really didn’t want me to come here, because they’re frustrated that they have to come pick me up and drive me home so late, and I guess I just feel bad, because we usually spend today together, and like, I turn eighteen in a month so it’s gonna be legal for me to drink soon, but they don’t want me to until I’m nineteen, which is bullshit, but they’re my parents, so.”
“Guys!” Chris shouts, interrupting their conversation. “Have either of you played your cards yet?”
“Fuck, sorry,” Dan apologizes. He picks a random card about George Clooney and passes it down. Phil follows suit. Chris begins to read out the cards he has, but Dan is barely listening. “I can take you home,” Dan says quietly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?” Phil asks.
“Positive.”
“Okay. I’ll text my parents.” The group laughs hysterically at one of the answers, bringing them back to reality.
“Right, I’m picking this one,” Chris announces. “Who played it?” Louise proudly raises her hand, and everyone claps.
Even though the game continues, Dan and Phil don’t really pay attention, lost in conversation with each other. It’s a bit hard to hear over the noise of drunk teens yelling dirty jokes at each other, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Dan feels relaxed around Phil for the first time ever, and maybe it’s the vodka but that’s starting to wear off in all honesty and it more just feels like Phil’s a generally nice person and he’s been missing out on him and his company since September when they met. It takes them about ten minutes to realize no one’s actually playing the game anymore and they’re instead just finding their favorite cards in the pack, trying to make each other laugh. They quietly sneak off back to the couch to continue to talk and no one seems to mind. It’s like he’s been missing Phil his whole life, like the moment they start to just talk he’s picking up from where they left off, even though really they never even started, not really.
Maybe Phil Lester the jerk wasn’t such a jerk after all.
---
Eventually, the group moves to the living room and puts on a movie, crowding the space that was previously just being occupied by Dan and Phil. But Dan doesn’t really mind, and anyways the more he talks to Phil the more he realizes that maybe his feelings of hatred were a bit misguided or maybe they were disguising themselves as hatred because he couldn’t face the truth. Now there’s something he’s really afraid to consider.
Phil gets up from his self-proclaimed spot on the couch to go to the bathroom at around eleven, when people are starting to get either drunker or more sober, waiting for the clock to strike midnight and ring in the new year. PJ takes this opportunity to slide over to press up against Dan, a huge grin on his face.
“What’s up, Daniel?” he asks. He smells overwhelmingly of vodka.
“Not much, excited for the new year, I guess.”
PJ waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You gonna go for it?”
“Go for what?”
“Oh my god, you’re absolutely daft. Everyone knows of the tradition of kissing someone exactly at midnight on New Year’s Day, right?”
Dan freezes. “I… Who…”
“This is your chance, Dan. He likes you, I promise, just go for it.”
“Okay, you keep saying that, but I still don’t know what you’re referring to.” Though, obviously, he does. “Peej, you’re super drunk right now.”
“And you’re not?” He laughs. “You should be!”
“I have to drive myself home.”
He pulls a face. “So?”
“Right, let’s get you some water, you goof.”
He gets up to go to the kitchen and pour him a cup of water from the fridge, and when he comes back to the living room Phil’s back, deep in conversation with Hazel. He tries his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his gut because Seriously, are you fucking kidding me? One minute you hate him and the next you don’t want anyone else to look his way? Maybe he’s always felt that way, like there’s always been some kind of underlying jealousy. But jealousy of what? His personality? His hair? His ability to make friends with all of Dan’s friends but somehow be better at it?
“Here you go, Peej,” Dan says, handing him the cup.
“I don’t want it,” he whines in response, but Dan practically forces it down his throat. He makes eye contact with Phil as he attempts to shove the cup into PJ’s hand, and Phil smiles at him and his heart explodes a little bit and, yeah, you’re an absolute gonner.
“Do it, Dan,” PJ whispers into his ear. “Do it for me, if nothing else.”
“Drink your water and I’ll think about it, arsehole.”
It works. PJ sits up straight and practically chugs the whole thing in an instant, earning him a satisfied pat on the back from Dan. He doesn’t mind playing the mom friend at parties, in fact, it makes him feel good. If he can save someone from dying of alcohol poisoning, he can justify coming to this party.
“Dan!” Phil gestures for Dan to sit next to him, as Hazel’s gotten up to get snacks.
“Having fun?” Dan asks, eyebrows raised. He’s pretty sober as far as things go but he still feels like his brain is going a bit haywire which is just great, just brilliant, because that confirms everything and why does this have to happen here, at a party in front of all his friends, on the most cliche night of the year, with music from the movie on TV swelling and laughter and drinks and it’s all just so much, it’s way too much for him right now. And seriously, of all people, Phil? Like, why couldn’t it be someone he knew and actually tolerated?
“Did you hear me, Dan?” Phil asks, bringing him back to reality.
Brilliant, fucking brilliant. What was it about Phil that always made him feel like he was one step behind, all the time? “Sorry, no, what did you say?” Seriously, can God just come smite me where I stand already?
“I said I’m having a great time. Your friends are super cool.”
“Glad you think so.” Can this not happen, please? Not now.
“And you aren’t so bad yourself.” Phil winks, and seriously, Dan feels like a year four, like a child in primary school, with a secret crush and a secret diary full of unsent love letters and this cannot be happening.
“Thanks, Phil.”
“So, any resolutions for the new year?” Phil asks.
“No, not really. What’s the point of making them if you can’t stick to them?”
Phil shrugs. “You never know until you try, right?”
“Okay, fine, what’s your resolution then?”
Phil thinks for a moment, then says, “To just be more authentic. To live a more honest version of myself, whatever that means for me. No unrealistic or unattainable goals. Just, not try to hide or fix myself in front of others. However it happens.”
Dan laughs in spite of himself. “A bit too meta for me, but the sentiment is there, I suppose.”
“I think New Year’s resolutions are fun to make, even if you don’t end up sticking to them. It’s the thought that counts, really.”
“See, this is what I’m talking about. Everything you say, it’s perfect. How do you do it?”
“What can I say? I must be born with it.” He does a fake flip of his hair and giggles. Phil needs to stop fucking giggling because it’s driving Dan insane, it’s contagious and it makes Dan laugh right along with him. Phil makes him feel so safe and warm and like he’s Dan’s missing piece and every other cliche the world has to offer him but fuck it, it’s true. And maybe he’s just completely misreading the signals and maybe Phil still secretly hates him and maybe Phil’s straight as a stick (though to be fair Dan used to think he was so that means nothing) but if he can’t say it now, when can he?
“Phil, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Dan.”
His confidence is dwindling by the nanosecond. “You’re not mad at me for being a dick to you for months, right?” Justsayitjustsayitjustsayitjustsayit--
“No, of course not. How could I be mad at you? I’m mad at myself, if anything, for being a dick to you.”
Dan opens his mouth to speak, but his words die in his throat and he knows he needs to just say it but nothing is happening.
“I wasn’t doing it with any malicious intent,” Phil continues. “It’s just that being nice to you didn’t seem to work, and it was the only other way I could think to get you to talk to me.”
“And why…” His voice is close to failing him. “Why would you want that?”
“Well, I--”
“Guys!” Chris shouts, interrupting them. “It’s eleven forty-five! Almost midnight! I’m breaking out the champagne! Come help me!”
Phil rolls his eyes and gets up with the rest of the party, which is moving to the kitchen to break out the grand finale of alcohols, the champagne. Dan tries not to feel disappointed, but then again, perhaps this is a sign. Chris pops open the bottle and everyone cheers and PJ brings him glasses. Jack helps to pass them out to everyone and Dan takes his, even though he has no intention of actually drinking it.
Chris changes the channel so they can watch the countdown live with the rest of Britain and Dan’s nerves go completely haywire. Everyone’s crowding around the TV and anticipation buzzes in the air and the guy on TV announces that there’s two minutes left until the new year begins and Phil’s on the other side of the room now and his heart hurts a bit. He puts his cup down on the side table to resist temptation. One minute left. He feels someone brush the back of his hand and it’s Phil and time slows down and the people around him fall away.
The countdown is happening around him. He locks eyes with Phil and he’s pretty sure someone just shoved a party popper into his hand but he really doesn’t care. Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen… Phil grabs his hand. Okay, okay, breathe, you need to remember to breathe, don’t fucking pass out for the love of all that is holy. Ten, nine, eight…
Now or never, Dan. Now or never. Now or never.
Five, Phil pulls him closer.
Four, Dan moves his hands to Phil’s waist.
Three, Phil moves his hands to the back of Dan’s head.
Two, Dan leans in. Or maybe Phil does. Or maybe--
One.
Shouts of joy, the mini explosions of party poppers, and choruses of “Happy New Year!” fill the room, and Dan kisses Phil. He feels soft and warm and they fit together so perfectly, and Dan pulls him impossibly close to his body and wow, why didn’t they do this sooner? It feels like fireworks, like the fireworks that are currently going off on TV, and it’s everything he could have imagined only magnified by about a million. It’s perfect. Perfect, just like Phil.
Applause erupts. Dan and Phil finally break away and see that everyone seems to be cheering for them. He completely forgot that there were other people in the room that could see them and now everyone knew. Awesome. Phil giggles and breaks the embrace, squeezing Dan’s hand instead. He’s completely and utterly mortified.
“About bloody time,” Chris remarks, shaking his head.
Dan scoffs. “Mind your own damn business.”
“Stop making out in front of everyone!” retorts Chris.
“What, we weren’t,” Dan stutters, but Phil just smiles and squeezes his hand again. Somehow, it’s not making Dan feel any better.
“Oh, leave them alone,” Louise scoffs at her friends, and soon their attention turns back to the TV, though they don’t stop laughing. Phil peers at Dan from behind his fringe and Dan can’t help but push it back a little and he can’t stop smiling and he knows he’s gone all red from embarrassment but he’s still on cloud nine. He kissed Phil. Or maybe Phil kissed him. Now he can’t really remember. It doesn’t matter, probably.
Party poppers explode and glasses clink and Dan kisses Phil again and nothing has felt more perfect in his whole life. He tastes like vodka and sugar cookies and Dan probably tastes the same and how could he have ever thought a thought as stupid as hating Phil Lester?
Phil laughs a bit, and pulls away. “My phone’s ringing,” he explains apologetically. He pulls it out of his pocket. “Fuck. It’s my mum.”
“Oh.” Dan takes a step back. “You should get that.”
Phil accepts the call while Dan sits back down on the couch. Around him, his friends start to clean up the flat. He hasn’t had a lot of time to process what just happened but now he can. Though, it’s fruitless, as he can barely believe any of this just happened.
Phil curls up next to him. “No… Mum, don’t worry… I don’t… Yes, he’s gonna take me home… I promise… Okay. Love you.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “Bye.”
A ghost of a smile remains on his face, but his eyes have lost their sparkle. “My mom wants me to come home,” he announces. “Do you still want to take me?”
“Yeah. Not like I still need to be here.”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay to drive and stuff?”
“I swear.”
“Positive?”
Dan leans in and plants a kiss on Phil’s nose. “Let’s go.”
Phil smiles and blushes. Dan’s never seen him so soft before. He’s still perfect, though. Still perfect. “Okay,” Phil whispers. “Okay.”
On their way out, Dan swears he can hear Chris whisper to PJ, “My work here is done.”
---
“Come on, slowpoke!” Dan shouts from his car, leaning on the horn. No response. Figures, the guy takes about a half hour at least to straighten his hair. And besides, he liked to make Dan wait. Annoying, since it was Dan doing him a favor and Dan asking for nothing in return. But then Phil comes bounding down the stairs and pulls the passenger’s door open.
“Right. Let’s go,” Phil commands, slamming the door shut.
“Yes sir,” replies Dan.
“Alright, alright, lose the attitude.”
“I’m your school chauffeur, I can act however I like.” He backs out of the driveway and speeds down the road to school. “By the way, we’re late. Again.”
“We’ll be fine.” He leans over the dashboard and gives Dan a peck on the cheek. “Better?”
“Marginally.”
“Whatever. You’re no fun.” Phil fake-pouts, crossing his arms and staring out the window.
Dan concentrates on the road in front of him, but a grin appears on the corner of his mouth. “I think what you meant to say was, ‘Thank you, my wonderful, beautiful, attractive boyfriend, for driving me to school every day, how could I ever repay you.’”
“As soon as I get my license, I am never driving in a car with you ever again.”
“Good to know you’ll always ride with me, then.”
Phil scoffs. “I’m telling you, the fourth time’s the charm.”
“Whatever you say, Lester.”
They’re both quiet for a bit, watching blocks and blocks of flats go by. “Thank you, Dan.”
“For what?”
Phil shrugs. “Everything?” Dan glances at him, and God he’s so beautiful, it almost hurts. Even in the early morning sun, it’s like looking into the night sky, into an entire galaxy.
“Ditto,” Dan replies. They’re almost to school, with only five minutes to spare.
“Ugh, don’t get all sappy on me.”
“What can I say? I’m a poet.”
Dan parks the car and turns to face Phil properly. They kiss, a real one this time. It’s warm. Phil pulls away slightly. “We’re actually going to be late, though.” He grabs his backpack and opens the car door.
“Your fault,” Dan replies, doing the same.
“I can live with that.”
“Yeah.” Dan leans across the car to kiss Phil one last time. “Me too.”
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