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adorkablephil · 7 years ago

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Fic: Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

Title: Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs Summary: Dan knows he’s a freak of nature Rating: Teen (for a tiny bit of language) Word Count: 2.5k Author’s Note: This is actually only the first of two related stories I plan to write about an asexual Dan, but I just spontaneously decided to try to quickly finish this one in time for @optimistphan’s Phandom Pride Month Meetup, which starts in a few hours. The second story will be these same characters, but later in their lives, set in the modern day, and I’ll write it when I get a chance. Mostly, I just wanted to put this out there to represent us ace folks at the meetup.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

Dan wasn’t a virgin.

I mean … duh. He had a girlfriend for three years, and everyone knows that teenage boys just want to have sex all the time. It’s all they think about. So, yeah, he had sex with Erin. Plenty of times.

Except that he hadn’t particularly wanted to. All that stuff about raging hormones? Well, that wasn’t Dan’s experience. He liked flirting … but he wasn’t actually interested in following through with anything more substantial.

He sometimes tortured himself by calling himself a “tease,” because really all he wanted was the attention, the heated glances, the knowledge that people thought he was “hot” … but he didn’t want to actually have sex.

And so, to avoid being a tease, he had sex. First with Erin, and then with some random guy at a party, somebody he didn’t even really know, just to try it out and see if his problem was something about girls, if maybe he was just into guys instead.

But it turned out he just wasn’t really into anybody.

And it made him feel like shit. What kind of crappy person actually enjoys getting people riled up, turning people on, without any interest in the rest of it? What kind of asshole posted nearly naked photos of himself on DailyBooth, and liked the idea that some people probably wanked while looking at him, when he actually had no interest in sex whatsoever? What kind of jerk flirted outrageously and very publicly online, where it was safe, where he never had to follow through on any of the implied promises?

When Phil asked him to come to Manchester, asked him to come stay for the weekend, Dan’s heart sank in his chest. They’d been flirting like mad for months, and it had always felt safe and fun, because Dan didn’t actually have to follow through. But now, if Phil wanted to meet, Dan knew he would have to put on the same act he’d used with Erin: pretending to be excited, pretending to be eager, pretending to … well … pretending to want to have sex.

He could get an erection—he even very occasionally masturbated—but he just didn’t feel that heated rush that everyone else seemed to feel, the way it was in movies, the way it was in books. He didn’t feel that need, that … lust. In his psychology class, they’d studied something called “Maslow’s hierarchy of needs,” and the teacher had explained that a human’s most basic needs were food, sleep, shelter, and sex. Dan had been fascinated by the concept of “self-actualization” that was at the top of the hierarchy … but he’d been very aware that apparently he did not feel one of the basic human needs that should be much more important to him.

Sex was a basic human need.

And that was when Dan had known that something was seriously wrong with him.

But he didn’t want Phil to know. So he would … he’d play the role. He’d try to be that naked boy covered in stuffed animals, the one with the eyes at half-mast while he bit his lip. He’d try to be what Phil wanted him to be … what he’d made Phil want him to be.

He was a nervous wreck at the train station, so Phil probably thought he was weird as hell. But Phil just giggled and nearly ran into a lamp post and seemed kind of nervous, so maybe he didn’t mind so much. Things wouldn’t get really bad until they got back to Phil’s house. He’d told Dan his parents would be away, and Dan knew what that meant.

Phil showed him around Manchester, and in most ways it felt really great to be with Phil. Like … someone finally really understood him. But he knew that Phil wouldn’t understand everything. So even while they were riding the Manchester Eye and sipping drinks at Starbucks, Dan was bracing himself for when they got to Phil’s house.

And eventually they did. They rode the bus from Manchester to Rawtenstall, then walked from the station to Phil’s house. They were talking and joking while they walked, sort of laughing and purposely bumping shoulders now and then, and it felt perfect. Flirty and comfortable and fun and exactly what Dan wanted. If the world were perfect, they’d go inside Phil’s house and curl up together on the sofa and just be close, cuddling. Maybe Phil would stroke his hair, or he’d run a hand down Phil’s back. But there wouldn’t be any of the pressure for more, for it to get … well … sexy.

But he knew the world wasn’t perfect.

So when they got inside the house, after Phil had showed him around, Dan nodded that sure, yes, of course he wanted to share Phil’s bed that night. He smiled, and Phil leaned down in the bedroom doorway and kissed him, very softly, and that was nice, actually. Dan liked it. He liked the warmth and closeness, the gentleness and caring.

When the kiss grew more passionate, Dan did his best to play his assigned role in the proceedings, but Phil pulled away almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking into Dan’s eyes with obvious concern.

Dan smiled and laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s probably just nerves. Let’s just … it’s okay. Let’s keep going.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Phil’s again, running a hand along Phil’s chest. Maybe if he trailed his hand lower, he could get things moving along, and it would be over soon.

But Phil pulled away again, catching Dan’s hand with his own. “Dan, what’s going on? I can tell something’s off.”

Why did Phil have to be so much more perceptive than Erin? Dan cursed silently to himself. He looked down, not meeting Phil’s eyes anymore, and let his hand fall limply from Phil’s grasp. He shrugged uncomfortably. “I guess I’m just not much good at this sort of stuff,” he mumbled, wishing he could just disappear or cease to exist or something.

But Phil gently took Dan’s hand in his and wove their fingers loosely together. “Everything seemed okay before,” Phil prodded. “It seemed like you liked it when I kissed you. I thought … I thought you wanted that.” He sounded hurt now, hurt and confused, and Dan felt guilty as hell.

He pulled his hand out of Phil’s and crossed his arms across his chest. This wasn’t going as planned at all. He wondered if he was going to have to walk back to the train station on his own. He didn’t even know the schedule for trains back to London, and his return ticket…

Phil interrupted his panicky thoughts. “Dan? Please, talk to me. We’re friends, right? Even if there’s nothing else … even if you don’t want anything else … we’re friends. Right?”

Still staring fixedly at the ground with his arms wrapped tight and defensive around his body like a shield, Dan nodded. He felt like a recalcitrant toddler, but he didn’t want to tell Phil the truth, because he’d never told anybody the truth, because he knew then somebody would know he was a freak. And he didn’t want Phil to think he was a freak. He liked Phil. He maybe more than liked Phil. Just … not like that.

“So,” Phil ventured, keeping his distance now, since Dan figured his body language wasn’t particularly inviting at the moment, “we’re friends. Nothing’s going to change that. So … all the flirting and stuff … on Twitter and Skype and stuff … that was just joking around? You just want to be friends?”

Dan sighed heavily, then muttered, “Not exactly.” He looked aside, staring at the base of the doorframe, just for something to look at.

“Dan, please tell me what’s going on. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I promise. I just want to understand.” Phil sounded like the nicest guy on the planet. Dan was a prick to have ever gotten involved in this, in leading him on and making him think Dan was a normal guy…

Gentle fingers brushed Dan’s fringe away from his forehead and Dan startled. Phil had moved closer and was looking down into Dan’s face again. “Could we go sit in the lounge, maybe?” Phil suggested, pulling his hand away again, not pushing. Dan nodded nervously. Could he actually tell Phil? He didn’t think Phil was the sort of person to actually make fun of him … or post about it online. Maybe it would be safe to tell Phil?

The thought of someone else knowing was somehow equally comforting and terrifying.

When they got into the lounge, Dan asked quietly, “Is it okay if we sit together on the sofa, nothing more than that, just … sit together?” and Phil nodded as if it was the most normal request in the world. They sat side by side, and then Dan let his hand slide back into Phil’s, which felt warm and soft and gentle. “I’m probably giving you the wrong impression by doing this,” Dan said miserably, lifting their hands up to show what he meant.

Phil smiled, though, and asked, “Do you like holding my hand?” Dan rolled his eyes and nodded. He’d been the one to initiate it this time, after all. “Well, I like holding your hand, too, so I vote we keep doing it.”

Dan sighed. “Yeah, but … I don’t really want … I mean…”

Phil gave Dan’s hand just the slightest squeeze. “You don’t feel ‘that way’ about me?” He sounded rueful, disappointed but unsurprised.

Dan felt like he owed Phil more than just half-truths. He met those pale eyes directly and explained hesitantly, “I don’t feel that way about … anybody.”

Phil looked confused. “But you had a girlfriend…”

Dan nodded, humiliated. “I … I played along, you know. I mean, guys are supposed to want to have sex, you know, so I … I did. I had sex. I acted like I wanted to … but really … that wasn’t the part I liked.”

Phil’s expression lifted, as if he suddenly saw something beautiful, but that couldn’t be right, because all that was here was Dan, and Dan was saying he didn’t want to have sex, and nobody would think that was beautiful. According to Maslow, he was a fucking freak of nature.

“What do you like?” Phil asked, sounding curious but not demanding. “What would you like?” When Dan began to pull away, Phil rushed to add, “I honestly want to know, Dan. Seriously.”

So Dan sat and thought about it in a way he never really had before, because he’d never really let himself think about it that much, because he’d always been so focused on what he should want instead. “I like … flirting. Feeling like people think I’m attractive, even like I’m sexy…” but he rushed on to add, “but I don’t actually want to have sex with them! I’m the worst kind of tease!”

Phil shook his head. “Forget about what other people want. I want to know about what you want, what you like. I want to know about you, Dan. You’re the one I care about. Just … I don’t know … close your eyes or something. Forget I’m here if that helps. I don’t know. Just … tell me what you like.”

Dan closed his eyes, and that actually did help a little bit, because he felt less exposed. Like a baby playing peek-a-boo … if he couldn’t see Phil then it was like Phil couldn’t see him either. It made it easier to talk. And so he began to ramble. “I like … cuddling … and holding hands…” Phil’s hand squeezed slightly, and Dan squeezed back before continuing. “I like kissing, sometimes, but not always, and … I guess I like it better when it’s like kisses on the cheek or something. Not so much … on the mouth it’s more … I like kissing, but … not like it’s going to lead to sex.” He opened his eyes to look nervously at Phil.

Phil’s fingers were still holding Dan’s, and Phil’s lips looked soft and happy. How could Phil be happy after hearing what a freak show Dan was? “Dan?” Phil asked on a breath.

“Yeah?” Dan barely breathed in response.

“Is it okay if I kiss you, just a little, and you can tell me if you like it?”

Dan bit his lip, then nodded, tensing slightly. He closed his eyes and waited, but was surprised to feel Phil’s hand gently against the side of his head, sliding through strands of his hair. “Is this okay?” Phil whispered, and Dan nodded without opening his eyes.

And then Phil pressed the lightest of kisses on each of Dan’s eyelids, then another to his forehead. Dan felt his body relax, as if he’d been braced for an onslaught that had turned into a caress. Which was pretty much what had happened.

When Dan didn’t feel anything more for a while, he opened his eyes and saw Phil looking at him. “Was that okay?” Dan nodded. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Dan wondered if he should be honest or not, then decided that he could. He could with Phil. “Could we just … if you put your arms around me … and we could spoon for a while? Just lay together, close, but without…” but Phil was already pulling Dan into his arms, not needing him to finish the thought, scooting and pushing and pulling until they were cozily curled together, Phil’s long legs pressed along the back of Dan’s, Phil’s arms wrapped around him, Phil’s warm breath against his hair and ear.

“Like this?” Phil asked, and Dan nodded again. They lay there together until Dan imagined their hearts beating in unison, hating himself for the cheesy thought. Phil’s voice in the quiet room startled him when he said softly, “You know, this would be a lot more comfortable in a bed…” but before Dan could even begin to tense up Phil was rushing to explain, “not to do anything else, but just because the sofa is kind of narrow and I’m kind of smashed up against the back, and we could cuddle easier in the bed. Not do anything but cuddle. Just cuddle … better.” And Phil huffed out a bit of a laugh, and it sounded nervous. Like maybe he was afraid he was pushing … like maybe he was afraid he was asking too much.

But he wasn’t. That was the important thing. Phil wasn’t asking too much. He was only asking for what Dan wanted … and nobody had ever done that before. Maybe Dan hadn’t given them the chance, because he hadn’t told them how he felt, but he had a feeling that nobody would have understood like Phil anyway. Even if he’d told somebody else, they wouldn’t have reacted like Phil. Because nobody else was like Phil.

So Dan said, “Yeah, okay, let’s go lay in your bed. Just to cuddle.” And they did. For hours. And they held hands. And Dan kissed Phil on the cheek. And they exchanged soft words. And Dan felt truly safe and happy and accepted for the first time. He knew he wasn’t a freak of nature, that there wasn’t any cookie cutter hierarchy of basic human needs, and Whatsisname Maslow could suck it.

The irony of the thought made him snort, and he heard Phil ask behind him, “What’s so funny?” When Dan explained, Phil kissed him soundly on his shoulder through his t-shirt, pulled up the duvet around them like a sheltering cocoon, and held him tight.

***

Author’s Note: To be clear, not all asexual people are the same—there is no cookie cutter sexuality. This is a portrait of a particular asexual character who should not be taken to represent the feelings, needs, or desires of any other asexual person, let alone all of us.

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