#smutty phan

[stillwaitingforthedoor]

in light of recent fem!dan appearances and the reactions they elicit from phil i'm begging you to read this fic i stumbled across and then to look at the date of publishing :))))) yes it does say 2016 :)))))))))

[simplydnp]

hey there!

I kind of consider you the resident dnp expert (at least in dnp culture) so I wanted your opinion on a question that's been building for a while now.

What are the boundaries for dnp now?

There are so many things that I feel have changed even in the last four years: writing smutty rpf was Gross and Weird, along with art along that line, speculating about their relationship was ABSOLUTELY a no-go, all things that I see happening on Tumblr now. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!! I'm just acknowledging things have changed over time. They're different people now and so are we, and the "we know you know" era is lots of fun.

I was browsing reddit today (bad idea, do not recommend) and came across a post from a new Phannie asking if DnP were in a relationship. And while I agree that we cannot say for absolute certain that they are, the responses had a VERY different vibe than on here, emphasizing how bad the speculation was (true) and essentially saying "don't even think about that, just enjoy their content." (or something to that extent.)

Which... is very different from this here website in which we joke about them being horney for each other constantly lmao.

Being a very rules-driven person, I like expectations to be made abundantly clear for pretty much everything. So that's why I want to ask: Is there a line here? Are we crossing that line? How defined is that line? (All of this, of course, I recognize is your opinion and yours alone, and if this is posted I encourage anyone else to share their two-cents in a respectful way.)

Obviously, trying to find out where they live/things like that is very clearly crossing a boundary. But is there some sort of limit or boundary I (and tbh the rest of the phandom), in your opinion, should be keeping in mind?

thanks xx

hi!

'resident expert' is a hefty title, i'm just here trying my best!

'what are the boundaries for dnp now?' is really a great question. cause the thing is, we used to know. there used to be a fairly well-defined and mostly agreed upon line, and ever since the dapg revival in particular, the line keeps moving.

i'll be honest, i never really saw phanfic as rpf, even though it is. my stance on phanfic is the same as dnps: it's a beautiful expression of art and creativity and is so, so important. they've always been pro-fic (even though we subjected them to some absolutely horrific crack fics), so i don't think 'smutty' fic has ever been gross or too far. they've given their blessing, and, as the conversation has been in fandom communities the last few years, rpf isn't 'for' the people in them, it's for the fans. so i digress.

art is much the same way. they love art! they even included art of them kissing in a tumblr tag video back in the day, so to say that's not allowed especially after they're out is kind of crazy to me.

i think the line with stuff like that was showing it directly to dnp--tagging them in explicit stuff, that kind of thing. but creating it? go for it! it's always been a green light. (i think fans have previously overpoliced this and we lost a lot of great fic, art, and community members over it)

browsing reddit is always a Choice. i've never participated on dnp reddit before but i am aware that it is an entirely different space than here. something that's important, i think (and i think you think this too as you're asking about them), is to respect the fandom rules of the place you partcipate in. tumblr is generally one of the most phan-positive places on the internet, especially publicly facing. we make a lot of relationship jokes, particularly because we run on the assumption it's already true, based on what they've both said publicly (mostly dan).

i won't comment on reddit specifically just because i'm not a part of the community there, but the speculation about dnp online was a Lot for a long time. but the worst part of it was the stalking, the digging into personal lives, the contacting family members--that is what was bad. dnp have always had a connection--and, honestly, they kind of love flexing it and kind of always have. they absolutely play into things now, but they certainly did even way before coming out too. i think a certain level of speculation was to be expected, especially in that era of online fandom. but it wasn't just the 'teenage girls' who cared, the media did too, and so did many others.

i think one of the biggest differences now is 1 the awareness of 'our' past and trying to make up for it, and 2 the broader societal conversations about parasocial relationships.

you see this reflected on the snippets ive seen from dnp reddit and dnp twitter. they tend to be Very 'cautious' about the words they say, often undercutting perfectly reasonable statements with 'but whatever their relationship is'. on one hand, they don't want to cross a line, and i can respect that. on the other hand... it's 2024 babes. they just put out merch of them holding hands. dan's directly, intentionally, and explicitly called phil a bottom on dapg. they reacted to all of the pinofs, made jokes about 'theyre touching', and even joked about the tackle being 'wrestling 👀'. dan posted half-naked catboy pics and showed us phil was taking them. the 'watch your step babygirl' tweet & their reactions to it. phil is credited in WAD. they're making threesome jokes about themselves as a unit. i could go on and on.

to me, there's a few things that have 'moved the line' for us, so to speak.

1 - DAPG returning. for the last few years they specifically were not a duo (for projects) anymore. (and no, not because they hated each other). they just weren't. they wanted to focus on their goals and projects. they didn't have to resurrect dapg, but they chose to. marketing and money aside, they knew that if this went over well, it would well and truly revive the 'dan and phil' brand again. it would be specifically returning to being a duo in the public eye. (however they've also fully embraced this in all aspects, including merch, videos, and general attitude)

2 - pinof reacts. even though they'd been out since 2019, we hadn't had regular joint content from them since before that, therefore, while they had become more comfortable with themselves and their 'outness', we hadn't (in terms of them making explicit gay jokes together). so i really think dnp had to de-fang a lot of the 'theyre touching' of it all, because we didn't really know where we stood on it anymore. i think they succeeded, too. we couldn't be here, with the content of the last 3 months, without them tackling it head on (well, as head on as they're want to do).

3 - dapc. genuinely another big shift. they did this for the real fans. purely a passion project, and a specific choice in doing the handhold. they know what we're like. and this wasn't a brief, unplanned, unscripted moment. it's a specifically blocked out scene. they know it's opening a door, and they chose to. this is doubled by the fucking iconic merch selling, and furthered by phil's twitter likes of arguably romantic phanart, and then dan's full straddle like.

even throughout the current 6 months of revival, the line has moved. i don't know where it will settle. dnp keep moving it, in my opinion, and, genuinely, i don't think it's going to leave much to the imagination. as you say, obviously not the stalking or the contacting, but beyond that? especially here on tumblr? i wouldn't get too worried. obviously people will have their opinions, but as long as you're generally respectful and recognize that humans will see your posts and humans interact with them, i think you're good.

my rule of thumb is anything they intentionally put on the table, we can joke about or at the same level. but in terms of art/fic? go off, live your dreams. dan and phil would want you to.

[greencatalystcomet]

yall remember like a week ago when there was all the phan porn addiction controversy on twitter?

we should all draw a bunch of smutty fanart and write smutty fanfiction about dnp getting fucked in the ass by deadpool and wolverine

or fucking eachother AS deadpool and wolverine

[andiebomb]

We as a community talk a lot about the old gay smutty romantic phan fanfics of back in the day with cringe BUT I feel like we are skipping over a VERY VITAL part of the phandom and that is…

Adoption fics.

[natigail]

Week 50 (2024) updates:

Wrote 2k on my skz wolfpack AU - Rest in the Belly of the Wolf

Wrote 1.7k on my phan Stardew AU - Broke, Gay and New in Town

Replied to about 375 comments on AO3

And I journalled every day

Total words: approx. 18.5k

That number is mostly the replies, which one could argue that I shouldn't include in these but I include my journalling as well, and honestly going through so many comments takes hours. It's such a joy though, even if it always melts me into a puddle on the floor. What do you mean so many people read my works and find such joy in them? It's a gift, truly. And we did some work on those two beast works too. Last chapter of skz wolfpack AU now, can't believe that I'll be saying goodbye to it. Even if I might write a smutty one shot for the main man and his three loves. We shall see. Also nowhere near as far as I hoped to be with Stardew AU as the year is drawing to a close but still trucking along!

[yazihowell]

Hello! I have a fic prompt for the #phan thing! What about Phil (mr sweet tooth himself) eating too much Belgian chocolate while they’re in Antwerp? (Mindfully eating it of course.) Or having a Belgian waffle with mountains of chocolate on it? Feel like there’s a few cute non smutty directions you could go with this 😊

hey there!! thank you for this cute idea, i’ll start on it today! :3

[poisonousquinzel]

full offense but if you write smutty Reader x Real Person stories you're fucking weird and on the same level in fandoms as the folks who ship real people together (ex: larry & phan)

like there's something really invasive and incredibly inappropriate about writing graphic sex stories about real life people. It does not matter if they're a celebrity. In The Slightest. It doesn't matter if once n a while they have a reaction to thirsty comments that isn't just "uh, okay wtf", it's still weird. Like the amount of reader/real person porn that's in tags for like Pedro Pascal and Tom Holland is severely disturbing.

& it's not being a prude or sensitive to sex / being against sex positivity or some shit to have a problem with it.

Being a public figure doesn't mean that fans have the right to push past those standard societal boundaries, it doesn't suddenly make it so those boundaries don't exist.

And seeing folks in fandoms leap past basic common decency and morals because they wanna be able to self insert themselves into a written fantasy about getting fucked by a celebrity that did not consent to being written about in such a manner, is so beyond screwed up.

[dnpredacted]

(feel free to delete this if this is too weird)

I like to imagine that whenever dnp wanna spice up their sex life they search for a smutty fic on AO3. Like I imagine that curiosity has gotten the better of them and they’ve developed their own phan porn addiction.

⭒

[adorkablephil]

Ficlet: Tight Places

Title: Tight Places Word Count: 750 Rating: Explicit Summary: The bunks on the Interactive Introverts tour bus are really small. Inspired by Phil’s latest video, “What Dan and Phil Text Each Other.” Tags: Established Relationship, Sexting, Interactive Introverts Tour Bus, Dirty Talk, Implied Masturbation, References to Various Sex Acts (including fellatio, anilingus, and anal penetration) Author’s Note: Written for @agingphangirl because I just listened to her podcast with @charlottekath and @ineverhadmyinternetphase, and she mentioned what a sucker she is for a tour bus fic.

Tight Places

Dan: you awake?

Phil: Yeah. Why?

Dan: what you doing?

Phil: Reading. Why?

Dan: i’m bored

Phil: I recommend books

Dan: and horny

Phil: oh

Phil: I recommend porn

Dan: horny for you specifically

Phil: Well, that isn’t going to happen. These bunks are too small.

Dan: i know

Dan: but you could talk me through it

Phil: No way am I talking dirty to you from a separate bunk over the sound of the engine when the bus driver might hear. You’re just going to have to get yourself off without my help.

Dan: come on phil

Phil: No

Dan: i’m desperate

Phil: You’ve wanked enough in your life, you’ll manage

Dan: i want your hand not mine

Phil: Tough

Dan: then text me

Phil: You want me to sext with you from a few feet away?

Dan: please

Dan: please

Dan: please??

Phil: fine

Phil: Think about the last time I was eating you out.

Dan: oh yeah that’s good

Phil: I was getting you so wet and open with my tongue. Remember that?

Dan: jesus yeah keep going

Phil: Remember how you begged me to fuck you? You were so desperate then, too. So desperate, Dan. You get desperate for my cock, don’t you? Just like you are right now.

Dan: omg yes

Phil: Think about how I teased you, how I slipped my tongue inside until you were so wet, so slippery and open and making those noises you make.

Dan: fuck this isn’t working

Phil: what isn’t working?

Dan: i can’t wank with my right hand, but i have to hold my phone with my left if i want to type

Phil: Try this. Keep holding your phone, keep talking to me, but don’t try to stroke. Just use your right hand to cup the head of your cock.

Dan: okay yeah thats good

Phil: Squeeze it just slightly. Think about when we were home, when I let you fuck me, how tight I was when you pushed inside. Think about that when you squeeze yourself harder.

Dan: oh fuck yeah that was so good

Phil: I know. You loved it. You always love it when I let you top. When I let you shove your hard cock in my ass and lose control.

Dan: jesus i need more this is hot but i can’t come just from this

Phil: Okay. I want you to just play with your slit now, just with a fingertip. Tease yourself. Think about how I tease you there sometimes with my tongue.

Dan: oh yeah oh yeah that’s working

Phil: Are you leaking, Dan? I’ll bet you’re leaking for me. I’ll bet pre-come is just dripping down your cock, getting you all wet, lubing you up like you want to fuck me again, but right now all you get to do is run your fingertip over the slit. Slow.

Dan: no i need it faster

Phil: Keep it slow.

Dan: phil please i’m getting close

Phil: I know. I can hear the noises you’re making up there. You’re going to scare the bus driver.

Dan: fuck the bus driver

Phil: No, I think you’d rather fuck me. Or have me fuck you. Or have me suck you. Which one do you want the most right now, Dan?

Dan: suck me

Phil: okay use your fingertip to spread the pre-come around your head

Dan: oh jesus fuck

Phil: yeah, i know how you like it when i lick the head of your cock like that

Phil: imagine that’s my tongue lapping at you, dipping my tongue into your slit while you beg me to take you all the way in

Phil: all the way in my hot mouth until i’m sucking your entire cock and you can feel yourself bumping against the back of my throat

Dan:

Dan:

Dan: wow ok

Phil: i heard that

Dan: oh my god

Phil: good?

Dan: so good

Phil: now i’m the one with the problem, dan, because you got me all hard and i don’t have your sweet ass here to take my cock

Dan: let me come down there

Phil: the bunk is too small

Dan: i guess ill just have to press against you real tight

Phil: oh

Dan: yeah and probably wiggle around a lot to get comfortable

Phil: oh

Dan: let me come down there?

Phil: um

Dan: i promise i’ll be good

Dan: so so good

Phil: get your fucking ass down here dan

Dan: oh fuck yeah

[lexxwithbooks]

📖: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑸𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 (𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑄𝑢𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡 #1) 🍨 🐉 🎹

✍🏽: 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐠

[huphilpuffs]

flares

chapter: 32/? summary: Dan’s body has been broken for as long as he can remember, and he’s long since learned to deal with it. Sort of. But when his symptoms force him to leave uni and move into a new flat with a stranger named Phil, he finds that ignoring the pain isn’t the way to make himself happy. word count: 3.7k (106k total) rating: explicit (note the rating increase!) warnings: chronic illness, chronic pain, medicine a/n: Immense thanks to @obsessivelymoody for beta’ing!

Ao3 link || read from beginning

Dan wakes with an anxious sort of buzzing in his chest. 

He doesn’t know what he dreamed about to make it that way. Probably nothing. It’s probably just the after effects of speaking his fears into the void and trying to figure out how to make them go away. His joints feel swollen and his ribs ache and he wants to bounce out of bed, push himself until they start to feel better.

He doesn’t do that. He groans as he pushes himself to sit, and winces when his feet hit the floor, and walks into the lounge with slow, unsteady steps.

Phil’s already standing there, behind the breakfast bar, wearing a t-shirt and his pyjama pants and a smile. 

The stools at the breakfast bar aren’t cushioned enough for Dan’s ass, and they have no support for his weak spine, but he goes and sits there anyway. His fingers wrap tight around the edge of his seat, as though that will steady him. There’s a bar that digs into the bottom of his feet when he leans over to kiss Phil good morning.

His smile’s gone wider when Dan pulls away. It makes all the soreness worth it.

“Can I get you anything for breakfast?” he asks. 

“Cereal?”

Phil makes a show of serving him, a clumsy one that results in cinnamons dotted across the countertop and cupboard doors left open. He’s laughing when he slides the bowl over. Dan is too, until the happiness mixes with the anxiety in his chest and makes a muscle there spasm.

His heart feels tight. He takes a big bite of his breakfast in a feeble attempt to ignore it.

“I need to run to the shops today,” says Phil. “Do you need anything?”

Dan shakes his head, mouth still full of cereal, grip on his spoon going shaky. It’s dumb that his brain decides he should feel bad that Phil does the shopping, as though it hasn’t been months. As though Phil looks anything but fine with needing to do stuff for the both of them.

He thinks of the rent he hasn’t paid in weeks. The cereal feels stuck in his throat when he swallows.

“Okay,” says Phil. “I’m gonna get ready then. Text me if you need anything.”

Dan hums. He tries to eat while Phil gets dressed, but only manages one bite before he’s stepping out of his room in a different t-shirt and black skinny jeans. His hair’s still pushed back into a quiff. He must not be bothered enough to straighten his fringe today. 

He comes over, runs his fingers through Dan’s hair and presses a quick kiss to his head before leaving.

A curl flops down over his forehead as the door clicks shut. Dan reaches up to fix it. He needs a haircut. He really needs a shower.

Something in his chest goes tight again. He knows he probably shouldn’t do it while he’s home alone, but the anxiety is growing louder, spreading up his throat like a burning sort of nausea. He can do it without Phil here. He needs to be able to, if this fibromyalgia thing means he’s never fully going to get better.

It probably doesn’t count as graded exercise or whatever. Dan doesn’t care.

He leaves his breakfast on the counter and goes to take a shower. 

---

The water is still kinda cold when Dan steps into the shower, feeling like tiny pinpricks where it hits his skin. 

He tilts his head back so his hair gets wet. His scalp feels tight under the chill, shoulders going tense. The pressure points at the back of his neck are starting to hurt, a dull ache at the spot where Dr. Kissel had pressed. He rubs his hands along his arms where gooseflesh is starting to rise as though that’ll erase the spreading sting of nerves that can’t quite handle this.

Dan tries to ignore it. 

He thinks about the first time Phil helped him do this instead. He leans back into the water so his shampoo runs down his spine and pictures the moment when Phil had taken his shirt off, his concerned frown and the spattering of hair across his chest. He remembers, perhaps too vividly, the touch of Phil’s hands against his skin.

Not for the first time, it makes something warm swirl in his stomach. Dan’s started to get used to that, the hints of arousal that come with taking a shower now, only to get washed away and swept down the drain when his body remembers how much work this actually is. 

The water, warmer now, still beats down against the skin of his back.

Dan stares down at himself. His dick is starting to stir. He reaches for his body wash for an excuse to drag his hands down along his neck, his chest, his thighs. He thinks of Phil’s touch trailing down his spine and what might have happened had he gone lower, had his grip tightened at Dan’s hips, had he helped Dan wash other parts of himself.

He swallows. His cock is starting to get proper hard now. Dan wonders, for a moment, if wanking counts as graded exercise. Probably not.

Dan doesn’t much care.

He wraps a fist around himself, letting his hiss get lost in the sounds of the shower. 

It’s a lot, whatever pleasure’s there is getting lost to a sting of pain, the sensation shooting past overwhelming. He doesn’t let go, though. His free hand comes up to steady himself against the shower wall and he drags his fist up along his shaft, another hiss rolling off his tongue when it seems to throb through his whole body.

He’s never really done this before, not like this. His brain went haywire too young to have ever wanked with any real purpose. And afterwards, whatever arousal he did feel was almost always lost to the ache welling in his bones.

Dan’s pretty sure running an actual marathon would feel just as familiar. 

He doesn’t much care though. Running a marathon sounds bloody miserable and this, he thinks, as he drags his hand back, feels the sting start to ebb on the downstroke, this could be good. 

His hand is starting to shake against the wall. He turns so his back is pressed there instead, feet braced against the slippery floor. The tile presses a tad too harshly against his shoulder blades. He’s not entirely sure he trusts his legs to hold him upright. 

Dan squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore all the ways his body feels not quite right, tries to focus on the one thing that does. 

Or maybe it doesn’t. He doesn’t actually know what this is supposed to feel like, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t much matter, as long as it feels good.

And it does, now. He rubs his thumb across the head of his cock and hears his own moan echo off the bathroom tiles. His eyes squeeze even tighter shut, and the burst of black behind them shifts into something brighter and blurry, like a dream.

It’s not the time Phil helped him shower this time, but the way Phil’s tongue slips into his mouth after they’ve been kissing for a little while, the way his teeth catch at Dan’s lips and leave them tingling in the best way. It’s the press of his hand against Dan’s jaw and how, whether intentionally or not, he almost always starts rubbing circles at where the joint starts to ache. 

Dan moves his hand faster, reaching up with the other to splay his palm across his chest. The pleasure is starting to get overwhelming now, edging past the pain that twinges under his touch.

He wonders what a moan would sound like in Phil’s voice, if it would feel good to have Phil roll over on top of them as they kiss. He thinks of how Phil’s touch already makes his brain forget it’s in pain, of how good it would feel to have Phil touch him like this.

That’s what he’s thinking about when he comes, pleasure throbbing through his entire body until it starts to fade away. The shudder that wracks his spine is so harsh it hurts. His ribs are starting to burn from how heavily he’s breathing. When he blinks his eyes open, the world is blurry, doubled and out of focus.

There’s a prickle at the base of his skull, dizziness swirling in his temples.

“Shit,” he murmurs. His throat feels scratchy. His hand is shaking when he reaches for the tap and turns the water off with a single twist of his wrist.

He’s not sure if it’s the how water or the orgasm that has his head spinning. It doesn’t matter. Black spots erupt at the edge of his vision and even though there’s still a bit of spunk on his stomach, Dan needs to get out of the shower before he collapses onto hard ceramic. 

He wraps his towel around himself before settling onto the floor. The edge of the tub digs into the back of his neck and his hands are too weak to hold the fabric tight around his body. His cock is still softening against his thigh.

It’s probably the delirium of a blood pressure crash that makes that seem so funny, but Dan laughs anyway.

---

“You took a shower,” is the first thing Phil says when he gets home.

He’s dropped his shopping bags by the door and sat down on the armrest of the sofa, gaze locked on the top of Dan’s head. His hair dried a long time ago, but it’s gone all curly from the moisture, less matted over his forehead. Phil reaches out to run his fingers through it.

“Made my blood pressure crash too,” says Dan. 

Phil’s brows furrow. He tucks a curl behind Dan’s ear. “Were you okay?”

Dan hums. “Sat down. Waited it out. Came back up, I guess.”

“Oh,” says Phil. His hand drifts down the side of Dan’s face, settling by his jaw before falling away as Phil moves over on the sofa, wedging himself into the space between the armrest and Dan’s knee. His head falls back against the cushions, eyes meeting Dan’s. “You could have waited, you know. I wouldn’t have minded helping you. Or at least being here in case something happened.”

Warmth blooms in Dan’s cheeks at the thought. He doesn’t have the energy to entertain the ideas that come to mind, the images that faded after a few minutes of lying on his bathroom floor. He hardly has the energy to push them away.

“I know,” he says. And he does.

He did a week ago, at least.

Phil’s still looking at him like he means it, like he wouldn’t have minded at all to linger in the bathroom listening to the pattering of the shower, rubbing shampoo into Dan’s hair. Like it doesn’t cross his mind at all that he’ll have to do it again, and again, and again, if Dan doesn’t learn how to deal with it himself. 

Dan wants to ask. He doesn’t.

He leans over, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. 

“‘M tired,” he says. 

Phil shifts beneath him, adjusting his legs, looping his arm around Dan’s body, holding him close. “You should rest,” he says. “Blood pressure crashes are hard, huh?”

Dan nods. A silly part of his brain points out that it’s not the only thing that was hard today. The rest of him has gone warm with the sort of momentary comfort that comes from knowing Phil’s still willing to help, for now.

It takes a little while for that thought to lull him to sleep.

---

He’s still on the sofa when he wakes up, curled up on his side, throw pillow tucked under his head. Phil’s hand is on his shoulder, voice in his ear, whispering his name. There’s a blanket draped over Dan’s body, he realizes, that wasn’t there when he fell asleep.

“Good afternoon,” says Phil. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I made us a proper lunch for once.”

“Oh.” Dan takes a breath. “Smells nice,” he says. “I should learn to do that for myself.”

He rolls onto his back, the armrest digging into his neck and the blanket getting all twisted around his legs. Phil’s hand falls from his shoulders, landing on the sofa cushion. When Dan blinks up at him, Phil’s brows are furrowed, slips pressed tight together.

“Why?” he says.

“Why what?”

“Why should you learn to cook?” says Phil. He holds his hand out to help Dan off the sofa, pressing the other against Dan’s hip to steady him when he sways onto his feet. His lips dust against the shell of his ear. “I don’t mind cooking, you know. You were tired.”

Dan’s chest goes tight. His hand lands on Phil’s stomach, clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt. “I know,” he mumbles. “Just, like, I’ll need to cook for myself one day.”

“I guess,” says Phil. His voice is low, unconvinced. “Not today, though. Come eat.”

He squeezes Dan’s hip once before letting go and leading him to the dining table. His frown has settled into a shaky smile. He motions to the table with a twist of his wrist, a flourish that doesn’t quite reach his fingertips. There’s two plates set out, paired with apple juice poured into wine glasses. 

Dan smiles back at him. His cheeks feel tight. His eyes are stinging. He stands there as Phil pulls his chair out for him and motions for him to sit. 

The serving of spaghetti piled onto his plate is too much for him to eat.

Dan grabs a fork and digs into it anyway, because he’s a little hungry and Phil’s too nice and there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t quite force down on his own. 

Phil watches him. His smile has fallen again. He hasn’t even reached for his fork. Dan’s halfway through a sip of juice when he says, “Is that why you showered while I was gone?”

Dan sets his glass down slowly, the clatter of it against the table top echoing too loudly. “Huh?”

Phil shrugs. He grabs his fork and starts fidgeting with it, gaze locked on his plate. “The whole needing to do stuff for yourself thing,” he says. “You usually wait until I could, like, help. I mean, if you need it.”

“Oh,” says Dan. A muscle in his chest spasms, the pressure in his throat growing painful. His hunger has morphed into something more like nausea that makes him want to go back to the sofa, curl up with his blanket and ignore the fact that he knows it’s not the food that caused it. “Doesn’t matter. Just felt like showering.”

It’s shaky. He hears it in his own ears, watches something shutter across Phil’s face in response. 

He knows Dan’s lying. He must. And the thought makes Dan’s breath catch in chest, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He flattens his hands against the table to push himself back, fingers shaking over the table top, sweaty palms leaving smudged prints on the glass. 

“‘M not hungry,” he says, because at least that’s actually true.

Phil reaches for him before he can try to stand, hand stopping just far enough that his fingers drift across Dan’s knuckles, hesitant.

He looks scared.

“Sorry,” he says. “I know how annoying it is when people ask about stuff that you’re, like, anxious about.”

Dan almost says, I’m not anxious. He almost asks, What were you anxious about? His fingers are shaking and his legs feel too weak to flee and he ends up just staring at the table, swallowing when his brain lets him start to breathe again. Phil’s palm has landed flat against the table, right next to his.

He’s not touching anymore.

“Unless you want to tell me?” he says. “I’m all ears. Only if you do.”

He shrugs. “It’s gonna sound like I’m asking for something,” he mumbles. “And I don’t want you to say yes just because you have to.”

“Oh,” says Phil. His fingers twitch on the tabletop. “What if I promise I won’t do that?”

Dan laughs. It comes out as a breath. “You can’t do that. Not if you think it’ll upset me.”

“You’re right,” says Phil. Dan looks back up at him then, catches the slightest upturn of his lips. “But if I know one thing about anxiety, it’s that usually when you expect something to hurt you, it’s not, like, actually gonna do that.”

“How wise,” says Dan. He manages half a smile back. “I just, like, don’t want you to feel pressured or whatever.”

Phil nods. He sits back in his chair, just for a moment, just long enough to shift his chair over so he’s closer to Dan. He doesn’t need to reach over their meals from there, just grabs Dan’s hand and holds on tight.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “But I promise I’ve never felt pressured by you before.”

Dan swallows. He’s not even sure he entirely means to when he says, “Even when you asked your parents for money to cover rent because of me?”

Without hesitating, Phil answers, “Yup. Even then.” 

“Oh.”

That makes it easier. Dan sucks in a breath through his nose and lets it out through his mouth, letting himself sink heavier against the back of the dining chair. Phil’s grip on his hand tightens even more, lips pinching into a thoughtful line as he watches Dan.

“Is that what this is about? Rent?” he asks.

Dan shrugs. “I guess? Sorta?” He glances down, staring at where Phil’s fingers are wrapped around his. “Just, like, if this whole fibromyalgia thing is gonna be permanent, I figure I can’t expect your parents to help pay forever and I don’t think I can work and then if you can’t pay rent I’ll have to move and I really don’t want to move back in with my mum–”

“Hey, whoa, stop.”

Dan clamps his mouth shut, looking back up at Phil. His eyes are gone wide and a little glossy and an apology for making him look that way is curling at the tip of Dan’s tongue. It falls silent when Phil tugs their joined hands into his lap, pressing his palm across the ridges of Dan’s knuckles and holding on tight.

“What makes you think you’d have to move out?” he whispers. His voice cracks at the end. 

Whatever pressure was lingering in Dan’s chest crumbles. 

“Money? Being sick isn’t exactly conducive to fiscal success, in case you didn’t notice.”

“And? You think I’d kick you out?” says Phil.

“Not because you wanted to,” says Dan. “But you need to be able to afford to, like, live. And if your parents can’t help anymore, I’m bloody useless.”

“So? I told you, I’d smuggle you into my bedroom,” he says. The corner of his mouth quirks up, pink tinging his cheeks. “Probably makes more sense now that we’re…”

Dan’s whole body goes warm, gaze flicking back down to their joined hands. “We’re?”

“Together?” says Phil, voice lilted with hope. His thumb drifts over Dan’s, grip careful and comforting.

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “Together.”

He watches the smile spread wider across Phil’s face, reaching his eyes. Despite everything, Dan feels himself mirroring it until he’s certain both his dimples have popped in his cheeks.

“Okay, good,” says Phil. “So, even if my parents did stop helping, you wouldn’t have to leave, okay? We could share my room and get a roommate. Or move into a smaller place with just one bedroom, if we don’t need the second one.”

Dan tries not to let it show on his face, how nice that sounds. “Do you think we should tell your parents now?” he asks.

“You haven’t even told your mum yet,” says Phil.

Dan shrugs. “She’s not helping us with money,” he says. “Your parents– I feel bad that they’re paying because I’m sick and they don’t even know with what.”

“Neither did you, until a few days ago.”

“But I do now,” says Dan. He squeezes Phil’s hand, the one still in his grasp. “I don’t want them to feel like I’m hiding it from them.”

Phil squeezes back. “I don’t think they will,” he says. “Are you even ready to tell them?”

Dan doesn’t bother to shrug this time. His silence probably says enough.

It must, because Phil heaves a sigh. He brings their joined hands up to his mouth and brushes Dan’s fingers across his lips. 

“Think about it a bit more, okay? I promise they’ll understand.”

“How do you know?” whispers Dan. 

The corner of Phil’s mouth quirks up. “Maybe they have a bit of experience with a kid who needed time to tell them certain things,” he says. The upward jolt of his shoulder is probably meant to be more casual than it actually looks. “Trust me, I’ve known Kath and Nigel for twenty-four whole years, they won’t be cross.”

Dan’s responding, “Yeah?” comes out more like a chuckle. 

“Yeah,” says Phil. “If anything, they’ll be more cross about us not telling them we’re, like, proper more than friends now.”

Dan actually laughs then. He reaches over with his free hand to grab at Phil’s shoulder and draw him closer.

“Shut up,” he says.

Phil does, pressing their lips together and giggling into the kiss.

---

They settle into bed early that night.

Dan crawls in after Phil, tucking himself beneath the duvet, pressing his head into the crook of Phil’s neck. His fingers skim across Phil’s chest to the same rhythm as Phil’s tracing lines along his spine. 

“I think I’m gonna wait to tell your parents,” he says.

Phil hums, the sound vibrating against Dan’s ear. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I want to get more used to it before I do, I think.”

“Okay,” says Phil. He turns to press a quick kiss to the top of Phil’s head. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Dan smiles into the bright yellow fabric of Phil’s sleep shirt. His eyes fall closed. His breathing’s gone mostly steady and his brain a little hazy when he says, “Thank you.”

He wonders if Phil knows that it’s for so much more than today when he says, “Of course.”

[scifiphan]

Pas de Deux

PART 1

summary: for ten years they’ve been friends with benefits; no messy feelings, no exclusivity, and no commitment. for ten years that arrangement was great, except dan’s hopelessly in love with his best friend and he can’t keep doing this. not when phil doesn’t love him back. 

rating: e

word count: 2.1k

author’s notes: title + the mood of this fic was inspired by the score pas de deux (it’s v pretty go give it a listen). ps: this fic does have a happy ending! + a big big thank you for the amazing @agingphangirl for beta’ing! ^w^

[read on ao3]

[d3athwish]

some people really don’t understand that when dan talked about people speculating his sexuality triggering his ptsd, he meant when people constantly would ask him if he was gay/bi/whatever, asking him about the nature of his sex life, throwing his own words and actions at him to prove he was gay, etc etc. what he didn’t mean is people on the internet talking amongst themselves about how dan looked at phil lovingly, or saying whether or not him and phil would be cute together.

some people really don’t understant that fetishizing is a whole different world from appreciating a healthy and happy queer relationship. fetishizing is when people say stuff like “omg my sinning gaybies are so hot i wonder how they fuck” which is obviously not okay. appreciating their relationship is “aw look at how dan looked at phil. how cute.” queer people are allowed to admire queer relationships, especially because there aren’t many real life examples to look up to.

some people really don’t understand that dan and phil have both explicitly stated they are okay with shipping AND fanfiction. you can think it’s weird all you want, but they apparently don’t so don’t attack the people who write it. of course there are boundaries that people should not cross when shipping and writing fanfiction; it should be handled with respect and a level of grace, and some people do not do that. but the majority of people do.

some people really don’t understand that talking about things dan and phil have put out into the public does not equal digging into their personal lives and being invasive. of course nobody should essentially stalk them to find out about the nature of their relationship, that’s a given. but talking about things they have said/done/tweeted/etc and saying “aw they’re so in love” or “they’re cute” or whatever isn’t doing that. at all.

please do not think you are high and mighty for bashing and generalizing the phandom for “fetishization” and “invading their privacy” because that is not what is going on with most of us in 2019. get rid of your “holier than thou” atitide, you do not have a moral superiority. the majority of the people within the phandom know what is okay and what isn’t because dan and phil have told us. don’t add your galaxy brained opinion on something you are misinformed about. you can have your opinion about shipping and fanfiction and whatnot, but do not actively bash the phandom when the people it’s about have allowed those things.

of course there will always be bad eggs. there will always be people who do the wrong things and are invasive. but that is not the majority of us. the majority of us know right from wrong because we listen to the things dan and phil say.

go take your brain cells somewhere else.

[loveinthebones]

YOU KINKY MOTHERFU-

Dan: "If you need a sex tip, in...certain areas that may not (may be un-?) wanted."

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN BITTEN THAT IT WOULD HURT, DANIEL?

[insomniaticality]

I’m bored so I’m writing a smutty phanfic okay

(Phil pov)

It was just like any other day. Dan was sleeping in, of course, like he always does. It was already 1 o’clock, so I figured I’d wake him up to film our next “DURR-VERS-PHURR” (As in, Dan vs Phil). I silently tiptoed into his room, ready with a hot mug of coffee for when he woke up, and froze when I walked in the door. 

In his sleep, Dan had kicked off all his blankets to the floor, and was lying there in nothing but his boxers. I felt a familiar twitching starting to begin from whenever I saw him like this, but I stifled my physical needs for now. I stepped towards him, put the hot mug of coffee on his night table, and leaned towards his face, ready to whisper his name to wake him, but realized he might feel kind of awkward if his best friend walked in on him sleeping in his underwear... So I walked over to the end of his bed to pull the blankets back over him.

As I was beginning to pull up the blankets, I accidentally glanced up. From this angle, I had an amazing view of Dan. I could see his adorable face, completely relaxed in his sleep, with his eyelids fluttering every few seconds, and his somewhat chiseled abs, visible because he was shirtless, and because he had the metabolism of a hummingbird, he never gained any weight. He was perfect. As I continued looking at the gorgeous man before me, my eyes fell past his waist. There was that twitching again, stronger now since I realized he was hard in his sleep...

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached over and tentatively touched him and rubbed my hand over the tent in his boxers. What was I doing? This was wrong. I stepped back, blinking out of the haze I had been in. Dan had grown harder from my touch, and I prayed he wouldn’t wake up. I turned to just walk out and make a new pot of coffee, when I heard him stir. I glanced behind me, expecting to see him awake, and braced myself for a flurry of questions from him, only to find he had completely removed his boxers. I glanced down at myself, feeling a strange tension, only to realize that he was causing this. My best friend. Oh god.

I guessed he had accidentally removed his underwear while turning over, so I figured I would leave before he woke up, when I saw him wrap his hand around himself. I ducked behind the door frame, in case he awoke, but continued to watch. He began pumping his hand up and down, and I fought the urge to touch myself as well. He continued this, and I continued to watch, until I heard him start to talk and moan in his sleep. At first the words were jumbled and confusing, and mixed in with unintelligible moans, but slowly the words started to take shape. 

I listened to him say useless words for a few minutes, when suddenly the words became less random and more sexual. I heard an arrangement of things ranging from: “Harder”, “Oh my god”, “Daddy”, and a bunch of groaning, when he said something as he came that made me jump back behind the wall. In a crystal clear, and also somewhat loud, voice, he said:

“Oh my god, Phil, I’m about to come. I’m about to... Oh my god, Phil!”

My lower region jumped up at least another inch when I heard that. Did he really just...? I leaned my head back into his room, to just barely make out the words: “I love you, Phil, you know that?” As he drifted back off to sleep. 

Well. Okay then.

I silently closed his door and sprinted to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and immediately shed all my clothes and ran a hot shower. I was determined to take care of my current problem and deal with Dan’s dreams later. I glanced to find myself at the hardest I had ever been. It only took me a few minutes. 

When I got out of the shower, I was surprised to find Dan wide awake, sitting at the table. I knew he hadn’t seen me in his room, so why did he look so awkward? I looked him over, to find him holding a mug of coffee. A still hot mug of coffee. A mug of coffee that I had left in his room moments before he had that wonderful dream. I was utterly screwed. 

“So... how was your sleep?” I asked, tentatively.

“Good.” Dan replied, staring directly at the table.

I decided to back off for now, praying that he couldn’t see me blushing, even though he was visibly red. I was about to say something what he suddenly mumbled a sentence.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“I know you saw me.” He said again, clearer this time.

I saw him smirk a little as he sipped his coffee. 

“And judging by the warmth of this coffee that was on my table, you stayed to watch.” He mentioned.

I tried to come up with some sort of excuse, to make it seem like I hadn’t just ruined our friendship, but I couldn’t. Dan, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care much. He was staring at me, smirking, with his cheeks stained red from his obvious embarrassment. I couldn’t tell what kind of embarrassment, though. 

“I just..” I began, but was silenced by Dan leaning forward and placing his hand on my mouth. 

“I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t need an excuse if I didn’t mind you seeing that.”

I stared at him, wondering if he was even aware of what he had said during his “session”. He must know, right? If he said he didn’t mind me watching, what could it really hurt. He was sleeping too, he couldn’t have possibly meant much of what he said. Especially not the whole “loving me” thing. I covered my head with my hands, taking his hand from my mouth, and debated what to do. 

Before I had decided on what I was doing, I had crossed to the other side of the table and staddled Dan’s lap. He did say he didn’t mind, right? I didn’t have much to lose, anyway, all ideas of friendship were a little warped right now. Dan’s voice cracked as he started to process what was happening and he turned bright red. 

“What are you..MMPH.” I slammed my mouth onto his, kissing with the most passion I had ever dared to show. 

I was terrified.

Dan pushed my face away from his, and I was struck with the most panic I had ever felt. There was certainly no going back now, so I started to cry. Now, this wasn’t a full on sob, as I would do sometimes when I realized he would never be mine, this was simply a few scared tears. I stared Dan directly in the face and he stared back, not leaving my eyes for a single second. I tilted my head down to lean on his chest and whispered the word: “Sorry.” I felt his hand wrap around my back to pull me closer. I couldn’t believe I had made such a mistake. Maybe he was just trying to be funny and joke around, and I took it wrong? What have I done to us? What have I done to myself? I kept letting myself get caught up in my own mind, when I felt Dan’s breath on my neck. 

I heard a faint whisper: “Phil, remember when we were younger and I joked about always wanting to be the dominant one in a relationship? I wasn’t joking, I was hinting.” 

I felt myself get lifted off his lap and thrown over his shoulder. What was happening? I was unceremoniously thrown onto Dan’s bed on my back. I was suddenly aware of how cold I felt, after leaning on Dan’s chest for a while, when I was enveloped by warmth. Dan, my crush, my best friend of several years, was straddling me, on his own bed. He leaned over, breathing in my face for a few moments, before diving down, straight towards my mouth. He pulled me up by my shoulders, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the muscles in his back rippling as he moved, pulling him closer. But it wasn’t close enough. I gently reached over and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and leaning back to admire him for a moment, when I felt a pair of hands move towards my waistline and tug my shirt over my head as well. Of course, like an idiot, I was wearing a shirt with a collar, which Dan couldn’t pull over my head. I chuckled as he attempted to sexily undo the buttons on the collar, and he sighed and gave up, laughing as he slipped his hands underneath my shirt and around the small of my back. I worked at undoing the buttons on my shirt, and gently pushed him away as I removed my shirt as well. I winked at him as I removed it, exposing my chest and low-cut jeans. He shuddered, and I got a taste of how nice it could be to be dominant. He scraped his nails over my back as he drew me closer, and continued to explore my mouth with his tongue. I entangled my tongue with his, tasting his saliva as it mixed with my own. 

He worked his hands down my chest towards my belt buckle and began to undo it, slowly removing my jeans until I was left with nothing but my boxers on, just as he had been this morning. He smirked, taking in my size and hardness with his eyes, and rubbed his thumb over my tip, causing me to gasp from the sudden touch. I decided to humour his behaviour and remove his jeans as well. I wrapped my hands around his ass, and giggled when he raised an eyebrow, then kissed him at the exact second I wrapped my hand around him too see how he would react. He gasped audibly, even though he was being stifled by my mouth. I set to removing his boxers, and kneeled back, kissing his chest as I went. I glanced up for approval, and began to pull down, placing my mouth on his tip the moment it was visible. He jerked his waist up involuntarily, clearly craving more. I wrapped one hand around him, then another, then placed my mouth on him and began to swirl my tongue. I licked every inch of him, glancing up every little while to see what had become of Dan, only to find him, every time, biting his lip to hold back a moan, staring at me. 

“You don’t have to hold back, you know.” I moaned in the sexiest voice I could manage. 

I set about getting him to at least moan once, and let my mouth widen to allow more of him in it. I hummed, so I wouldn’t gag, and deepthroated him as far as I could go, wrapping my hands around what wouldn’t fit. There. 5 Inches in my mouth, three in my hands. He was big. I swallowed, to see how he would react, and react he did. Dan jerked his head up, releasing a barely contained groan, before exclaiming:

“Phil, I’m going to...” 

I got the message and backed off, working with my hands for a moment, but I craved him even more, so I went back with my mouth, moving up and down as he began to pulse. Dan screamed as he met his release, and I was proud of myself for getting him there. I managed to swallow every last drop.

Now, I wasn’t expecting anything in return, and figured I could handle my seven and a half inch situation myself, but Dan quickly recovered and towered over me. 

“Now what did I say earlier about dominance?”

Oh no.

He tore off my underwear, quickly exposing me to the cool air. This was the first time anyone had seen me naked in ages... 

He kissed me as he wrapped one hand around me, and put his other hand in my hair, pulling my head closer to his, even though our faces were already crushed together in a passionate kiss. I gasped as he pumped his hand up and down while simultaneously playing with my hair. I was instantly addicted to him, even more than I had been in years. He began working his way down, trailing kisses down my chest as he went.

“A copycat, huh? You’re doing what I did to you.” I jokingly mentioned.

“Not quite.” Dan whispered, with a smile.

He landed a gentle kiss on my tip, instantly sending me to another world, but I was brought back when he started talking to me.

“So, have you ever tried, umm... anything, here?” Dan whispered awkwardly while grabbing my ass. 

“You know, I can’t say I have.” I replied, with full certainty and trust.

Dan’s awkward face instantly transformed into one I had never seen before, one of pure, undiluted lust. He pushed my legs apart, keeping me on my back, as I smiled up at him. 

“So you wouldn’t know how to...” He began.

I nearly screamed from the pleasure as he inserted a finger into me as he finished his sentence.

“How to.. reach....” 

He curled his finger slightly.

“here?” 

This time, I did scream and moan, all at once. Dan knew his stuff. 

He began to curl and uncurl his finger as he leaned down to suck me off. Within minutes, I reached my limit, and only had time to squeak out the word: “Dan” before I experienced the most violent orgasm of my life. My vision clouded over as I let my load into Dan’s mouth. 

I was suddenly very sleepy, even though it was still mid-afternoon, and once again, only barely heard his words: 

“I love you, Phil.”

My eyes were open in an instant, staring directly into his bottomless eyes, getting lost in his features as I uttered words I never thought I would ever be able to say to my soulmate:

“I love you too, Dan”

We refused to move for hours, cuddled in each others arms, sharing kisses and talking, and sometimes not moving at all, taking in the moment. 

“How are we gonna tell the Phandom?” Dan suddenly whispered.

“Shit” I had no clue. In fact, I still have no clue. 

(I’ve never even written fanfiction so this is probably bad. Also I’m sorry if any of my friends see this. Aimee, I’m sorry if you went through the trouble of reading this. I am tired. And also Kennedy I’m sorry)

[jilliancares]

Oh, We’re in Love, Aren’t We?

Summary: Dan and Phil have been dating a while, but Dan doesn’t believe in love.

Word Count: 4k

Genre: smut (listen, this was supposed to be fluff. JUST FLUFF. but there are THREE separate smut scenes in here kms)

Dan was logical. He believed in things he could see and understand, and that was the way it should be. He didn’t believe in aliens, he didn’t believe in ghosts, he didn’t believe in any of that crap. Because it wasn’t real.

Just as adamantly, Dan didn’t believe in love. It was a sham, he was sure. He didn’t see how people all over the world claimed to feel this overwhelming, all powerful feeling. Sure, he believed in it in the sense that he loved his parents and he loved, say, pizza. But people didn’t fall in love. They didn’t experience it so intensely.

Phil Lester believed the exact opposite of that.

“How can you not believe in love?” he demanded, moments after telling Dan he loved him for the first time. Dan couldn’t help it, he’d told Phil his beliefs. It wasn’t like he wanted to lie to him or lead him on, if Phil was going to be put off by his lack of belief in it.

“It’s not real,” Dan huffed. His arms were folded behind his head, and he was lounging on Phil’s bed. Phil was across the room, sitting on top of his desk. Dan didn’t know what he’d done to make Phil tell him he loved him, but one moment, he’d been lying on the bed with Phil across the room, and the next, Phil had been smiling fondly and informing Dan of it.

“You don’t think I love you?”

Dan made an unconvinced sound. “I mean, sure you love me. But it’s not—it’s not like, what everyone thinks it is.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been in love.” Phil was arguing quite pleasantly. He seemed more amused than anything else, and still appeared entirely relaxed.

“And you have?”

“Yeah. Right now.”

“You mean love as in like, you love your parents, or your brother. Or your friend. Your dog.”

“No,” Phil said, already shaking his head. “I love them, sure. But this is different.”

“It’s only different because you like to touch my dick,” Dan argued. Phil laughed, and he rose from the desk, crossing the room. He settled on the bed next to Dan.

“I mean, you’re not wrong about that,” he said, resting on his side with his head propped up on his left hand. His other one settled over Dan’s crotch, squeezing lightly, and Dan’s breath hitched. “But that’s not quite what I mean either.”

“It is what you mean,” Dan said. He wasn’t looking at Phil as he did this, instead staring hard at the ceiling. Despite the fact that they’d been dating for months now, he still got flustered and embarrassed when they were touching each other, always fumbling out of his clothes and blushing while Phil ran his fingers over his chest.

“No, Dan. I love you in a way entirely different and unique from the ways I love other people. And I’m gonna make you feel it too.”

“I’m only feeling one thing right now,” Dan muttered darkly, as he bucked into Phil’s grip. “Listen,” Dan breathed. “I don’t want you to be disappointed when I don’t end up saying it. I care about you. A lot. But it doesn’t get stronger than that.”

“Okay,” Phil said, very obviously not believing him. Dan would’ve rolled his eyes if he had more brain capacity to do so, but currently all his blood seemed to be located elsewhere.

“I love how pink your cheeks get when we do this,” Phil whispered, and Dan’s eyes flew open, briefly darting to the side to look at him. What the hell was he doing? “I love that you let me touch you, even though it clearly still makes you nervous.”

“Doesn’t,” Dan grumbled pointlessly.

“I love the noises you make,” Phil said, after which he squeezed Dan particularly hard, making him whine between his teeth. “I love how you dig your fingers into the blankets.” Dan hastily unclenched his hands. “I love how you pant and squirm when you’re getting close.” Dan made an effort to stay still, trying to control his breathing. God, how much did he notice?

“Phil,” Dan whimpered. Phil groaned.

“I love how you say my name.” And then, even quieter: “I love how you look when you come.” Dan jerked into his hand with a cry, his fingers coming up and scrabbling against Phil’s arm, clutching onto him and pressing him more firmly against Dan’s crotch as he continued to jerk upward. He finally settled back against the mattress, breathing hard, his curly hair sticking to his forehead.

“I love how embarrassed you get when you remember you came in your pants,” Phil conveyed, and Dan’s eyes shot open, his face flaming red.

“Asshole!” he whispered, hastily stumbling off the bed and walking as dignifiedly as he could to Phil’s dresser, the back of his neck hot. “I’m stealing these,” he informed, holding up a rare pair of black boxers and retreating into the closet.

Honestly, as if that… whatever it’d been… was going to change anything. Phil couldn’t make him love him just by telling him all those ridiculous things—he’d just embarrassed Dan more than anything! If love was real—which it wasn’t—then that would’ve just made Dan even further from it!

Grumbling, Dan made his way back across the room and crawled onto the bed, facing away from Phil.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Phil pleaded, turning to face him. He trailed his fingers over Dan’s side, which felt nice, but Dan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him.

“I even love the way you sulk,” Phil revealed. He scooted closer, pressing himself up against Dan’s back. He wasn’t hard, meaning he’d either finished himself off while he was doing the same to Dan, or he’d willed it away, only interesting in Dan’s pleasure at the moment.

Phil’s arm was wrapped around Dan’s torso, their entire bodies touching, but Dan ignored him, instead scrolling through twitter on his phone.

“It’s even worth you being peeved at me,” Phil whispered into his ear. His breath was hot, and it spilled over Dan’s neck in a way that made him shiver and clench his legs together, desperate to not get hard again, not so soon after. “Because you’re so beautiful and flustered and I always want to see all of your reactions.” With that, he pressed his lips against Dan’s neck, almost innocently, at first. And then he parted them, breathing hotly over Dan, and sucked.

Dan whined, almost imperceptibly. He hoped Phil didn’t hear.

Of course he heard.

Phil’s hand was soon in his boxers, tossing him off quickly as Dan clung desperately to his arm, panting into his pillow and pleading with Phil in between cursing him. God, what a bastard. Dan couldn’t believe he’d agreed to let him be his boyfriend.

—

Their relationship started on a normal Tuesday afternoon. And by normal, Dan meant in the way that millions of things had already gone wrong, and when weren’t things going wrong for him? Of course, there were constant little things—forgetting his lunch at home, getting a paper cut in an annoying place, running out of chapstick. But this day had been like all those little things happening at once, with a few big things thrown in.

It was a long story, but by the time Dan was leaving school, he had spaghetti in his hair, something mysterious, brown, and sticky on the bottom of his shoe, which clicked with every step, and he was pretty sure that he was bleeding internally somewhere. He’d just wanted to get home, and quickly, because only the comfort of his own shower, clothes, and bed could fix the many things that had happened to go wrong that day.

“Hey Dan!” someone, who turned out to be Phil, had called. Dan had spun on the spot, glaring at the approaching boy.

“What?” he’d snapped. Before they’d begun dating, Phil had just been this random, older student that Dan had recognized from seeing around the school. He’d known his name, but to him, Phil had been one of those people that Dan happened to know but what pretty sure didn’t know him back. He’d mostly expected Phil to point out the fact that he had spaghetti in his hair or something which, yes, he realized.

Phil’s eyes had widened at his appearance, taking in the hair, the red sauce on his clothes, and coming back to his glaring, angry eyes. And then he’d smiled. “Want to go out with me?”

“What?”

“You know, on a date. You’re Dan right? I’m Phil.”

“I know who you are.”

“Is that a no then?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“No. It’s not a no, it’s just—why?”

Phil beamed. “I’ve seen you around a lot. You’re cute. And I know you’re funny too.”

“I’m covered in spaghetti,” Dan had felt the need to point out. Phil nodded.

“I noticed,” said Phil. Dan nodded. “How about you go home, remove the various bits of spaghetti, and then we go and get some ice cream? You can tell me all about how you decided to start using pasta as hair product.” This had startled a laugh out of Dan, and before he’d known it he’d been grinning and agreeing. Some weird bubble of confidence had risen in his chest too, as he’d invited Phil to his house to wait while he removed the spaghetti.

“It’ll be faster that way,” Dan had promised.

“Well, faster is always better,” Phil said solemnly.

“Sometimes slow can be good,” Dan answered, and Phil raised an eyebrow. Dan raised one back. Phil nodded.

“Noted.”

—

“Alright,” Phil said seriously, his hands splayed flat. He and Dan were sitting at at the top of the jungle gym. The sun had already set, and the stars were just barely starting to come out. If anyone saw them, they’d probably be reported as teenage delinquents trying to get drunk at the park, but in reality they just liked the location. It was a kind of forested area, the pleasant atmosphere filled with nature smells and the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping. “How do you know the earth isn’t flat?”

“What?” Dan said incredulously. His legs were thrown over Phil’s lap. They were sitting perpendicular to each other, with Phil’s back against one wall of bars and Dan against the one directly next to it. Before Phil had dramatically slapped his hands on the metal floor, he’d been massaging Dan’s calves.

“The world. How do you know it isn’t flat?”

“Because I’m not an idiot?”

“No, seriously.”

“Christopher Columbus,” Dan shrugged.

“Actually, there were others before him,” Phil pointed out.

“Whatever,” Dan answered. “Satellites. History. Common sense.”

“But you’ve never seen it for yourself,” Phil said.

“Are you trying to come out to me as a believer in the world being flat? Because I’ll have to break up with you.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate!” Phil said innocently. “But how can you just believe that the earth is flat when you haven’t seen it yourself?”

“Because I have an infinite amount of resources that prove it,” Dan said.

“Correct!” Phil cheered. “Same with love.” Dan groaned. Phil pressed on: “People everywhere are in love. Novels are written every day about it!”

“Books,” Dan said. “Fictional books, about fictional love. There are just as many books about vampires. Or soul mates.”

“You don’t believe in soul mates?”

“You think I would believe in soul mates but not love?” Dan asked incredulously.

“Good point.”

“Science proves that the world is round. Nothing proves love is real.”

“Science proves love is real!” Phil argued seriously. His hands were on Dan’s legs again now, and he tugged them, forcing Dan to sit up and follow where his hands were leading. He rolled his eyes when they led to Phil’s lap, but he settled there nonetheless, his arms looping around Phil’s neck. “The serotonin in your brain. That’s science,” Phil said.

“Serotonin makes you happy, not in love,” Dan said.

“You release more serotonin when you’re with the person you love,” Phil answered.

“When you’re with the person who makes you happy,” Dan corrected. Phil growled and pushed him backwards lightly, making him sprawl across the jungle gym. His fingers worked at Dan’s button.

“Here Phil?” Dan demanded. “In a park?” Phil nodded. “Now we really are teenage delinquents.”

“Better keep quiet,” Phil answered, before taking him in his mouth. Dan immediately slapped a hand over his mouth and clenched his eyes shut. Phil’s mouth was glorious—always had been. It was hot and wet and messy, loud and filthy, and Dan was just as embarrassed about it as he was turned on.

Phil’s mouth was on him. It felt amazing and was just as amazing to remember later on, when he was alone. But in the moment, Dan couldn’t help his face from flaring red, and not just from pleasure. It was red from the way Phil’s arms were wrapped under his thighs, lifting his hips into the air so he didn’t have to bend so low to suck Dan. It was red from the way Dan twitched and jerked his hips, a good ways above the ground, contained in Phil’s hands. It was red from the way Dan was unable to help gasping around his fist. It was red from the way he came, and Phil swallowed it all without complaint, before pulling away with an obscene pop and leaving Dan cold and naked in the night air. His face was red from the way he scrambled to pull up his boxers as Phil pressed forward, kissing all along Dan’s neck. It was red from the way he reached into Phil’s trousers and touched him until he came.

“I love you,” Phil told him seriously, his fingers stroking over Dan’s skin, having hiked his shirt up. Dan’s face was pressed into his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said, and Phil laughed.

—

Lately, when Dan saw Phil, his heart thumped. His stomach twisted and his insides scrambled around. He didn’t know the meaning of it, but he did know that he couldn’t help smiling whenever he made eye contact with Phil, whether they were together on his bed or on separate sides of a classroom.

When he wasn’t with Phil, he wanted to be with him. When he was with Phil, he dreaded him having to leave. Dan could never tell him this, however—it was far too embarrassing. He was becoming a needy crybaby! No, he would man up and keep these weird, floaty, desperate feelings to himself.

“Which one should we get?” Phil asked. They’d gone to the gas station together, deciding that they needed candy and soda. Phil had driven, and they’d held hands for the five minutes it’d taken to arrive. “Dan?” Phil said, turning to look at him. Dan blinked, shaking his head. He’d been staring at Phil, reveling over how wonderful he was. Not his appearance—though that was wonderful too—but just in general. He was sweet and caring and funny and Dan’s head felt full when he thought about him. It was inexplicable.

“Oh!” Dan was jolted back into he present. “Um, just—that one, I guess,” he said, pointing uncaringly to one of the items. Phil was looking at him with some sort of knowing smile, which Dan raised an eyebrow at. So what if he always chose the same candy? It was good.

They sang to the radio on the drive home and carried their various snacks up to Dan’s room, where they then became abandoned. Dan had barely set the bag on the desk before Phil was on him, pushing them towards the bed.

“Dan,” he whispered. “Can we have sex?”

Dan’s face, immediately, flushed. He hated sex. Okay, well, that was a lie—obviously. It was just that sex, the full on kind, seemed way more personal and embarrassing than any of the others. Usually it took a lot of persuading from Phil to get Dan to relent. Usually he’d suggest it a couple days in advance, so Dan could mentally prepare.

It felt unbelievable, Dan knew that. Almost nothing compared, and sometimes, late at night, Dan imagined asking Phil to do it instead of waiting for Phil to—but he never did. It was just so personal, so invasive. Though he trusted Phil more than anyone else in the world, and longed for it just as much as he did, it was hard for him to get past that.

Sometimes Phil would tease him for a long time beforehand, until Dan was just delirious enough to beg for it. Afterwards, he always felt warm, sated, and mortified.

“Sex is nothing to be embarrassed about,” Phil had told him on several occasions.

“I know!” Dan had answered immediately, already embarrassed.

“I’m serious. It’s not shameful, it’s not gross—it’s just us.”

“I know,” Dan repeated. “I know that. I just—I don’t know. I’m embarrassed about it. It doesn’t matter.”

“We don’t have to do it, you know. We don’t have to do any of it if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” Dan had managed to say, almost choking on how uncomfortable he was. “Just—shut up about it.”

Now, Dan pulled Phil tighter against him, mainly so he didn’t have to look him in the face when he said it. “Yes,” he whispered, and Phil groaned in his ear, grinding against him and making Dan gasp.

They moved onto the bed together, Dan under Phil, and stripped off their clothes in between clumsy, hungry kisses. They were rarely naked together, their sexual acts usually taking place over their pants or with them tugged haphazardly down their thighs. Dan supposed that this only added to making him feel especially bare now, Phil’s body pressed hot and naked against him.

Phil reached over to his bedside table, fumbling inside it for lube. Dan averted his eyes. Phil must realize that he used that on himself, especially since the levels inside the container steadily went down, while their activities together were more rare. Thankfully, Phil didn’t take the opportunity to tease him about it, instead slicking his fingers while kissing over Dan’s shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked. Dan nodded. He was okay, he was just, you know, a bit red all over. Like a lobster. And lobsters got away with that all the time, so why shouldn’t Dan?

When Phil’s fingers rubbed against his entrance, Dan froze.

“Relax Dan,” Phil murmured into his ear. Dan did his best, breathing out shakily as Phil slipped a finger inside him. It felt good. Really good. He loved fingering himself, and it was even better when it was Phil doing it. He just had to ignore the fact that it was Phil doing it.

Phil eased in another finger, and then another, and he rubbed over Dan’s prostate, making him jolt and let out a moan. Phil was quickly losing patience, and soon he was slicking himself up and lining up against Dan.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” Dan moaned, panting heavily. He wanted it—God how he wanted it.

“Deep breath,” Phil instructed, and then he was pressing in, and Dan was gasping, clutching Phil and pulling him closer, taking him deeper.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, and again, and Phil kissed his cheek and nose and lips. It hurt, but in a good way. Dan felt himself stretch and clenched around the intrusion, moaning at the feeling. Phil moaned too, their sweaty bodies slick against each other as he began to move, pulling out only to push right back in. It took a couple of strokes, but he found Dan’s prostate and thrusted against it, making Dan shake all over, the pleasure filling him to the brim.

“God,” he breathed, and Phil kissed the word from his lips.

“Love you,” Phil whispered, and Dan was too occupied to argue against it. Plus, not that he would ever admit it out loud, he liked it when Phil said that. Even if it wasn’t real.

Suddenly, Phil slowed down. Really slowed down. He went so slow that it was agony, and Dan was left making tiny, jerking movements underneath him that accomplished nothing, especially when Phil placed his hand over his hip and held him down.

“Phil,” Dan whined. He would regret it later, when he was falling asleep. All the noises he’d made and all the movements he’d desperately done. But in the moment he couldn’t help it; in the moment he didn’t care.

“Dan,” Phil responded. He seemed perfectly fine, not at all agonized over this pace. His cock almost slipped out of Dan, and then he was pressing back in, slow, slow, slow… until his hips were fit against Dan’s arse again.

“You should… speed up,” Dan suggested, tossing his head back. He looked up at Phil, who was smirking at him, and looked away. He could feel heat climbing up his neck.

“I think this is a good speed,” Phil replied. “Besides, I thought slow was good?”

“Too slow,” Dan whined. His hand was fisted in the blankets beside him, which was doing nothing to alleviate the pressure building up all inside him.

Somehow, impossibly, Phil slowed down even more. Dan wanted to cry. And then Phil reached down, grabbed his cock, and slowly, slowly, rubbed his thumb over the head.

“Gonna die,” Dan panted. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You want me to go faster?” Phil asked.

“Yes!” Dan begged. Phil pushed in, still going slow, until he was all the way in, his cock hot and throbbing inside Dan, and Dan squeezed. He heard Phil’s breath hitch, knew this was affecting him too.

Now Phil wasn’t moving at all. “Phil,” Dan whined. Phil didn’t answer. He just kept thumbing Dan’s slit, and Dan was shaking all over, his muscles twitching, his body gleaming with sweat. He tried, pathetically, to fuck himself on Phil, but they were pressed too closely together. “Please.”

“But I love being inside you,” Phil whispered. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Please!”

With a soft sigh, Phil pulled out and pushed back in, faster, faster, faster. Dan was moaning now, loud, whorishly. Oh god he would hate himself later, but he couldn’t help it. He was blabbering something nonsensically, and Phil was grunting as he fucked Dan faster and faster, now tugging on his cock.

“‘M close,” Dan whispered, and Phil kissed him on the lips as he came, his body jerking wildly beneath his boyfriend. Phil quickly followed, and he didn’t pull out right away, instead crushing Dan with his weight and kissing him wherever he could reach.

Dan soon grew uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. He felt the need to go shower, and to pull on big, baggy pajamas. Phil didn’t let him do that. He pulled out, slowly, carefully, and tugged the duvet over them, pressing himself tightly against Dan.

“Phil,” Dan protested quietly. “Shower. Clothes.”

“Naked. Bed,” Phil answered. His hand stroked Dan’s limp cock, once, twice. Dan jerked, oversensitive and face flaming. He splayed his hand over Dan’s lower stomach after that and just held him, the both of them slipping off into sleep. Dan felt warm all over, but in a good way. He liked being with Phil, being pressed against him, post-coital. And sure, he felt a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, but… less so than usual.

Worse, he found himself wanting to grin and giggle when Phil pressed a kiss against the back of his neck, or tapped his fingers along his stomach where they rested. His heart felt as light as a feather, and when he thought about it, really thought about it…

“Phil,” Dan whispered.

“Mm?”

Dan paused, chewing on his cheek. “We’re in love, aren’t we?”

Phil chuckled, pulling him tighter against his chest. “We certainly are.”

“I think you were right,” Dan whispered. He felt so full and happy—full of something he’d never felt before, something he was sure was called love. And maybe it was serotonin. Or maybe it was fairy tales. Either way, it was true.

“I know I’m right.”

Dan felt his lips pull into a smile. Maybe being wrong wasn’t so bad.