#tagging phan and dan and phil so more people see my vision

[mybraindumpsterfire]

I just had a fucking brain blast and came up with the best idea:

AmazingPhil aka Phil Lester “Buffy The Vampire Slayer” deep dive video essay in the style of Mike’s Mic, Jenny Nicholson, etc. Just Phil breaking down Buffy lore and characters for however fucking long.

I would watch the absolute fuck out of it holy shit

[summerohnine]

Perfect

Tags: domestic, family, domestic, adoption, Parent!Phan

Warnings: none that I know of

Word Count: 1482

Summary: Phil didn’t know he could love two people at the same time. Then, Amelia was born. 

A/N: so this was kind of inspired by “Dear Theodosia” from Hamilton because I just love that song and it made me want to write some Parent!Phan

Read more of my fics!

She’s so beautiful. Her deep blue eyes, wispy blonde hair, her button nose. Everything about her is perfect. Phil stood next to his husband, neither of them talking as they looked through the window at their sleeping daughter. Their daughter. The words still felt foreign when Phil thought them. Phil had promised Dan early on in their relationship, when they were still just two kids with no idea of the future ahead of them, that he would never love anyone else. But, Phil knew he was going to have to break that rule when he first laid eyes on Amelia. Dan and him had been in the delivery room when she was born. When Amelia’s mother, Emily, had found out she was pregnant, she immediately started to arrange for the child to get adopted. She was not ready to have a child. She had picked Dan and Phil to interview first. She didn’t need to interview anyone else after that. Emily knew they would be perfect. Over the last seven months, Dan and Phil had become very close to Emily. Her parents were not accepting of her being pregnant, and the biological father of Amelia had left Emily as soon as he heard she was pregnant. So, naturally, Emily decided it was only best if Dan and Phil were the ones holding her hands as she pushed. Emily squeezed Phil’s hand so tightly, it was almost numb. He wasn’t complaining, though, because he was probably doing the same thing to her. He was so excited to meet his daughter for the first time. He and Dan made eye contact as the doctor said, “One more big push, Emily!” Amelia’s cries filled the room and tears clouded Phil’s vision. Before he knew it, Emily was holding Amelia, smiling down at her. Phil looked at Dan and saw how lovingly he looked down at Amelia. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open. Phil knew that Dan was already in love, just as much as he was. He looked down at Amelia, completely awestruck. He didn’t even realize how long he’d been staring until Emily chuckled lightly. “Do you want to hold her?,” she asked softly. He looked up, startled, and nodded quickly. He put his arms out, gasping slightly as he grabbed her. She was so tiny. He didn’t know why that surprised him, but it did. She was so delicate and fragile, and he needed to protect her forever. He walked over to the chair, motioning with his head for Dan to sit down next to him. “I can’t believe it,” Dan said quietly into Phil’s ear after a while of silence. Emily had fallen asleep fairly quickly. After all, it was 2:30 in the morning and she had just given birth. Neither Dan nor Phil could even think about sleeping at this point. All they could think about was the small bundle in front of them. “What can’t you believe?,” Phil asked Dan, turning his head slightly so he could look at him. Dan smiled down at Amelia as she grasped onto one of his fingers. “We have a daughter now.”

Dan and Phil eventually left the hospital at around noon that day so they could go back home and sleep. They had been up all night, and they needed to be well rested in time to finally bring Amelia home with them. They didn’t say one thing to each other as they trudged up the stairs, straight into their bed. They laid in bed with their limbs haphazardly thrown on top of the other person, both of them too tired to bother getting into a better sleeping position. As soon as their heads hit the pillows, they were out. Phil was woken up by an alarm that he didn’t remember setting. He looked to the other side of the bed and saw that it was empty. He smiled as he realized that Dan had probably set the alarm so he would wake up in time to go back to the hospital. “Good morning, sleepy head,” Dan said as Phil walked out into the kitchen. Dan had already showered and dressed in new clothes. “It’s four in the afternoon, it’s definitely not morning,” Phil said back. He walked over to the younger boy and wrapped his arms around his waist. Phil laid his chin on Dan’s shoulder and Dan leaned back against Phil. “Close enough.” They stood in the middle of the kitchen like that for a moment, just content with the feeling of the other’s body against them. “Phil, as much as I would love to stay like this forever,” Dan began, turning around in Phil’s embrace, “We have to be back to the hospital soon and you still need to shower.” Dan gave Phil a peck on the lips before pulling away and shoving Phil towards the bathroom. Once Phil had rid the sleep from his system, he was able to quickly shower and change into clean clothes. They spent the rest of the evening at the hospital, discussing things with Emily and the adoption agents. They had been told that they would be able to bring Amelia home the next day around noon. They went home at around eight so they could get things ready and get a good night’s sleep.

The next day, they returned home with their newborn daughter in her car seat, sleeping peacefully. It was such a strange feeling to Phil. He never thought he would be able to do something like this. He never thought he would find the love of his life and be able to have such a life with that person. But here he was. “Phil, why are you crying?” Dan said, rushing over to his husband and rubbing his back. Dan had just put Amelia down in her crib when he heard light sobs coming from the lounge. As soon as he knew that Amelia was still asleep, he walked out and saw Phil sitting on the couch, head in his hands. Phil leaned into Dan, and Dan instinctively put his arms around him. “Are you upset?” Dan asked, perplexed. Phil let out a laugh, which he could tell surprised Dan. “I’m anything but upset, Dan. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” Phil looked up at Dan who was looking down at him with the fondest smile he had ever seen. “Me too.”

Later that night, Phil was sat next to Amelia’s crib. Dan was out in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Phil had told Dan he would put Amelia to sleep while he did the dishes. Phil could not get enough of her. She was perfect. Phil leaned over the side of the crib and watched as she squirmed around. He reached over to her and ran his hand over her thin hair. She looked up at him through her thick lashes, blinking rapidly. “I love you so much, Amelia.” Phil knew that she couldn’t possibly understand what he was saying, but he still thought that she would somehow know. “I promise, I will always be here for you,” he said, barely a whisper as she was starting to drift off. “Amelia, you’re perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect.” Phil kept rambling to her, continuing to rub her head as she fell asleep. Phil didn’t realize how long he had just been staring down at her until he heard shuffling behind him. He turned around and saw Dan, leaning against the doorframe. Light from the hallway made Dan nothing but a silhouette. He walked towards Phil once he had been noticed, and Phil could now see the faint smile on his lips. “How long have you been standing there?” Phil asked quietly, still slightly in a daze. “A few minutes.” Dan kneeled over the crib next to Phil. “She really is all we could have ever asked for.” Phil nodded and lightly took Dan’s hand in his own. They sat there for a few more minutes until Dan stood up and pulled Phil with him. They had put Amelia’s crib in their room, so they only had to walk a few more steps before they were both able to lay on the bed and get a little bit of sleep.

Phil knew that raising a baby was going to be a challenge. He knew that kids were hard, and teenagers were even harder. That didn’t make him want them any less, however, because he knew that he could do it. Because every time he looked into Amelia’s beautiful eyes, he knew that he would do anything and everything he could to keep her safe. He knew that even on days when he found it too hard to handle, he would always have Dan there, and they could go through it together. Phil used to think it was wrong to love two people. Now he knew that that was not true whatsoever.

[helpless-words]

Leave: Phan One-shot

Genre: Phanfic

Ship: Daniel Howell and Phil Lester

★Warnings★: Suicide, Alot of yelling and cursing, Degradation (and not the kinky kind) Anxiety attacks and hyperventilation, Panic attacks.

Tags: Phan Angst, Phan, Daniel Howell, Phil Lester, Phan au, etc

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dan! What’s wrong with you?! What are you doing?!”

Phil yelled, annoyance in his voice as he watched the younger male toss his belongings down the stairs, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“GET OUT! I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU GO BUT GET OUT!”

Dan screamed, shoving past Phil to go back to his room, grabbing more of his things only to turn to go back, heading straight for the stairs until Phil stopped him, making him drop his things.

“Would you stop it! I’m not leaving!”

Dan growled and shoved him away, picking up Phil’s belongings from the floor before throwing them down the stairs.

“I didn’t even do anything! What’s wrong with you?!” Phil yelled at Dan, making him stop midway on his trail back to his room.

“Didn’t do-  y-you didn’t-”

Dans voice began to break, and his words trembled with every fall from his lips until fresh tears began to spring from his eyes.

“PHIL! YOU TOLD ALL OF OUR FRIENDS THAT YOU DIDN’T NEED ME! YOU TOLD THEM-”

“THAT’S BECAUSE I DON’T NEED YOU DAN! YOU’VE BEEN ACTING LIKE AN ABSOLUTE BRAT AND AN IDIOT EVER SINCE WE STARTED THE TOUR!”

Phil screamed back, managing to make Dan flinch and he smirked slightly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Without me, you’d be absolutely nothing and you very well fucking know this, I practically created you, Dan.”

Phil growled, his eyes dark and cold as the words fell from his lips and Dan froze in place, watching Phil as if he were an entirely different person.

“You-you created me?”

Dan laughed, wiping the stray tears from his cheeks, his voice breaking as the words choked out of him.

“No, Phil. You didn’t create me, and you know why? Because you’re a child! Started before me, and older and yet I’m still better! As if I needed you! I have more subscribers! I don’t need you or anyone else!”

Dan screamed at him, his heart immensely shattering as he spoke the words, knowing very well he didn’t mean them.

Phil, please…Please!

Phil frowned, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as fury began to fuel further into him at Dan’s words.

“If I’m such a child then how did I get this far?! And what about the tour, huh?! You just gonna drop that like everything else we do?!”

Phil yelled, Dan groaning loudly in response.

“FUCK THE TOUR! AND FUCK YOU, PHIL LESTER. I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST YOU! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND!”

Phil…Please…please, I need you…Please just don’t leave me…

Dan could feel fresh tears begin to fall down his cheeks as he picked up some of Phil’s clothes from the floor, chucking them at him in a blind rage.

“JUST GET OUT! GET OUT AND DON’T COME BACK!”

He continued to scream until Phil had snarled loudly, catching the clothes in his hand and throwing them onto the couch before storming to Dan, making him back into the wall with a small squeak.

Slamming a fist to the wall at the sides of his head, Phil trapped Dan, his voice low and eyes dark in rage.

“You fucking thought wrong, Dan. Now listen to me, and you fucking listen close, cuz maybe this will shed some light on you for the future.

You. Are. A. Worthless. BRAT.”

Phil practically spit the words, making Dan flinch but stay silent in fear of Phil actually doing anything to him.

Phil… Please don’t do this…Please…

…I need you…

“No one will ever fucking love you, and the only reason you have so many subscribers were because of me and everyone else who helped you.

Do you really think people would want to watch some worthless piece of shit complain about his pathetic life everyday?

You, Dan Howell, are. Nothing.

And you’ll always be nothing.

So why don’t you do yourself a favor and do what you always joke about, huh?”

Phil snarled, slamming the wall beside Dan’s head once, making him as a few tears draw from his rimmed eyes before rolling his eyes and pulling away, a look of hatred on his features.

“Goodbye Dan.”

He said and grabbing a few things from the floor and shoving them into a nearby backpack, Phil was out the door, slamming it harshly.

In. And out. I-in and ou-

Dan collapsed to the floor, a loud sob wrecking through his body as he curled into a ball, his breathing quickening with every intake.

No…No…I need to calm down…

He could feel his hands beginning to shake, tugging at his sleeves to try and bundle into his fists and stop it as he bent, begging silently for air to reach his lungs.

It was when he began to see black spots in his vision he knew he was in trouble and began to panic, desperately trying to pull what air he could into his lungs but failing altogether, his vision going dark as he slid down the wall, his chest beginning to ache.

Phil… Phil…Phil…. I’m sorry…

        ~a little later~

Groaning, Dan lids began to lift, his vision clearing ever so slightly but enough to know he was in his house but…On the floor?

Holding a hand to his aching chest, he sat, looking around the room and feeling his heart instantly clench at its state.

Clothes and little nick-nacks were scattered over the room, belonging to Phil but looking ruined throughout the turmoil they been through.

Phil…

Instantly, Dan scrambled to find his phone in his pockets, pulling it out once he had and checking his messages and calls for anything.

But there was nothing.

Scanning through his and Phil’s messages, Dan’s grip tightened, feeling the light tears escaping at the small jokes they had made before their fight.

And then it was there…

The message…

The one that changed Phil Lester, Dan’s best friend, to his worst nightmare.

“I just can’t handle him anymore, Louise. He’s such a brat. He complains constantly and is so needy. I just can’t wait until this dumb tour is done. He acts like everything is always for him. No wonder why he has no friends.”

Dan could feel his heart clench, everything from the Tweets online in front of everyone, to their text messages, flashed by him, his grip tightening impossibly until his finger had slipped, sending the phone to the home screen and making his heart stop in place at the screen.

It was a picture of himself and Phil when they were at a party a few weeks ago…

He had been so happy…Laughing to the point of tears with Phil and all of his friends…

And Phil…

‘This tour is going to be so amazing, Dan! I’m so excited! I can’t wait until it’s started…We’re going to change the world in ways you won’t believe…“

And with that reminder, Dan chucked his phone at the wall, watching as it shattered against the opposite wall, releasing a stuttered breath from his lips as he stood from the floor, his legs shaky from mis-use.

Going to his bedroom, he could feel the tears falling from his cheeks getting heavier, and his breathing slightly increasing, but he kept control.

Pulling a drawer out, he pulled a single black box out, his breath hitching at the sight of it.

“You have to promise me to never use these again, do you understand me? I need you, I can’t lose you, Dan…”

Lifting the lid, he could see a single row of blades in the box, some stained from previous use, but other glinting with a look that said

“I’m all yours Dan. It’s good to have you back. I won’t leave.”

Lifting a single blade, Dan toyed with it, twisting it with his fingers as he stumbled his way to his bed, sitting on the edge before deciding to back against his headboard.

He didn’t care.

Not about the tears that stained his cheeks, the ache of his lungs from hyperventilation, or that Phil left.

In that moment, there was a bliss.

In that small moment it took to bring that blade to his arms, and carve down, all he could do was whimper and take the pain…

In that moment of the blood beginning to flow from his arms, staining the sheets, he couldn’t had cared about anything except the silent bliss.

He could hear a piano…

The sweet melodic keys playing softly in his ears.

He could hear Phil’s laugh, and feel his touch on his cheeks as his eyes began to droop and his head felt light.

Phil’s laugh…

Was it always so beautiful?

“Dan! Dan, please!”

He could feel his lips tilt into a small smile at the sound of his voice…

That sweet voice…

The one he always dreamed about…

“Dan! Dan, I swear to God, please! Just look at me! Please! Please!”

He humoured himself, and for the slightest second, using the little bit of strength he had, he forced himself to open his eyes, Phil’s tear stained face looking back at him with shock, worry, and fear.

He smiled.

Please, don’t be scared…

“Dan, Dan, listen to me, it’s gonna be okay. It’s going to be okay, just please, stay with me, please, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, just stay with me!”

He began to sob and Dan could only watch him in awe.

Even crying, he looked beautiful…

Slowly, he lifted a weak, hurt, and stinging hand, bringing it to cup Phil’s cheek, running his thumb over the gentle skin of his cheek.

Phil’s eyes instantly met his, and if even possible, more tears began to form as he clung to Dan’s hand, kissing it lightly.

“Please Dan…I know I fucked up, but let me make it up to you…Please.. please don’t do this…You promised me…”

Phil whispered lightly, his words seeming broken and scared as fresh tears began to fall and Dan could only laugh lightly.

“Phil…”

“Dan? Dan, please…”

His eyes began to droop once again, the room going dark and the piano playing softer, the sweet melody practically pulling him to sleep.

“Phil…I love you…”

The room began to swallow him up, the blackness that he’d usually love, now overwhelming him as it surrounded.

“Dan? Dan! DAN!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dan? Dan! DAN!”

Dan groaned as he felt a pillow hit his body, turning to face the culprit only for him to sit on his lap, giggling down at him.

“Dan! You lazy oaf, you need to get up! C'mon, it’s time!” Phil giggled above him, smiling down at Dan with a light blush on his cheeks.

Dan groaned, chuckling as he folded an arm above his eyes to block out of the light while the other wrapped around the older males waist, holding him in place.

“Time for what? I don’t want to get up!” He complained childishly, grinning all the while, causing Phil to roll his eyes but smile lovingly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to his lips.

“It’s time to say goodbye…”

He said softly, before leaning down once again to cuddle into Dan’s side, his arm wrapping around Phil’s waist tightly.

“…Okay…”

[phanromaniac]

Pairing: (Phan) (I mean) (My Name Kinda Gives It Away)

Summary:  Dan Hates Phil. Phil Lester, the boy who, frustratingly, got the best marks in the class yet never actually studied. Dan’s hands clenched in anger just thinking about it. Phil Lester, who was always surrounded by friends, despite being part of the chess club, debate team, and practically any other nerdy extracurricular activity you could think of. Everyone, even the stereotypical  'cool kids’  liked, or at least respected him.  Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the way him, biting his lips, didn’t distract him. Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the bubbly feeling he didn’t give him in his stomach because Dan definitely wasn’t gay.

Alternatively: It’s on Wattpad, too (Now on AO3, as well)

Warnings: Sexuality Crisis, Financial Insecurity (Not Too Much), Arguing (And like a crap tonne of swear words), Eventual smut

*Important* Tell me if I didn’t tag something.

*Important No. 2* Co-written with @red-lariat who is gr9 and should definitely be looked at 100%.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five

The laughter spilling out through the bottom of the door was both comforting and saddening. Phil softly banged his head into the wall, simultaneously feeling glad that he didn’t fuck up their friendship as much as he had every friendship he had ever attempted at having, and feeling of extremely left out.

 Phil sighed. He was spiralling, and he knew it, which only made it all the more frustrating that he couldn’t pull himself out of it. Suddenly, entirely unbidden, every single one of his past interpersonal failures flooded into his mind, trying to squeeze out through his eyes. He wiped the tears away furiously.

 He wanted to go on and ignore them, or boil over and scream, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. He knew that he always had to initiate conversation if he were ever to talk to anyone and that if people were to talk to him he couldn’t ever ignore them – having the short attention span he had. This is not to say that he couldn’t hold a grudge, but rather, that he couldn’t always remember to show it. He was desperate for affection, no matter how much he hated to admit it, under that calm ‘give-no-shits’ exterior was someone who wanted to be acknowledged, not just be okay at a bunch of stuff.

 So he just sat there. On the floor, against the wall, with his head safely buried in his hands as he tried to fight the frustrated tears. He didn’t quite manage to succeed.

 He could hear the distinctive peals of Dan’s laughter through the door, and his stomach clenched. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but there sure was a lot of it, spilling through his sit and rising in his throat, almost making him choke on it. Drenching his sleeves in tears as he wiped his eyes to clear his vision so that he could run to a janitorial closet down the hall, slamming the door behind him the second he fully gets into the small room.

 He sank down against the door as soon as he has is closed, burying his head in his arms and outright sobbing. His chest heaved and his throat itched and his eyes stung, his breath coming in uneven, hiccuping bursts and racking sobs that made it impossible to stay still.

 A small, tentative knock sounded at the door and Phil shot back, holding his breath.

 “Hello?” someone called through the door. “Is someone in there? Is everything okay?”

 “Y-yeah,” Phil called back, wincing when his voice wavered. Coughing to clear his voice of all evidence that he had been so overcome by tears, he continued, “yep, I am 100% fine, totally and completely…” he trailed off.

 “May I come in?”

 Phil froze. “Um. If you want to?”

 The door cracked open just wide enough for PJ to slither through but for no one to see Phil in case they were walking by, a form of courtesy, closing it behind him with a soft sound.

 “You wanna talk about it?” PJ asked, and Phil just stared.

 “Ideally? Sure.” Phil chuckled emptily. “Realistically? I don’t want to put my bullshit sob-story on anyone. Feels too much like I’m being a whiny bastard making people feel sorry for me.”

 “If it feels better, I can tell you my bullshit sob-story afterwards? I can probably win in a whining competition, I made an entire project based on the putrid state of the abysmal washrooms at our school,” PJ said, attempting to elicit laughter from Phil. “Mutual exchange, and all that,” he stated to bring the conversation back to the topic.

 “Fuck it.” Phil shrugged. “The SparkNotes version of events is that I accidentally almost initiated a best-friend breakup between my ‘sworn enemy–’” he added finger quotes and everything– “and this guy I’m kind of sort of dating? Nothing is official, we made out like, once, but he’s apparently had a crush on me for a while, so I thought why the hell not.

 “And now they’re making up and shit and I’m not even part of the friend group and I came in and I just fucked everything up like I do everything, and now, I’m being left out again and it always happens, every single time, and I hate it but who can blame them when even I hate myself.” Phil was crying fat tears of frustration by the end of his little tirade, and he angrily scrubbed eyes with his palms.

 “I’m sure that’s not the case,” PJ offered gently.

 Phil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s because the only interaction you’ve had with me is this one, to which I’m emotionally vulnerable and manipulating your empathy, albeit it’s not on purpose.”

 “Not true, you talk a shit tonne in class.”

 “So you know the intellectual front I put up, not much better.”

 “Now I just get the feeling that you like suffering alone.”

 “Not necessarily, but I do feel guilty sharing it with others, plus, you can’t say that someone who knows the answer to most of the questions asked without studying isn’t annoying. I mean, I do hear how I sound, I just can’t stop it. Well, I mean I can, but it kills me not to. That and I’m such an indecisive piece of shit like even in the last sentence I said I couldn’t not backtrack.

 PJ looked at Phil inquisitively, as if trying to decipher a code or solve a puzzle, and to break the silence, Phil gulped then said, “Alright, now for your shit.”    

 “Not so fast buckaroo.”

 “Who the fuck says 'buckaroo'?”

 “This buckaroo.”

 Phil laughed until he was crying for an entirely different reason.

 PJ waited until Phil calmed down enough to speak. “As for your problem, it might feel selfish, but your feelings are valid, and you should be okay with feeling them, as long as you don’t try hurting people because of them.”

 Phil bit back his tongue, trying to forget about the fact that he when he loses his temper he can’t stop the vicious verbal attacks from spiralling and harming everything they come in contact with, but the expression didn’t leave his face fast enough for PJ to miss it.

 “What is it?” PJ questioned tentatively.

 “Can I tell you some other time? I kind of don’t want to cry twice in one day.”

 “Okay, but other than that, do you feeling any better?”

 Phil bobbed his head in an awkward nod. “Well, considering I came in here unable to stop myself from sobbing, I would say that I am, yeah.”

 PJ hummed. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

 “Now it’s your turn,” Phil said, gesturing expansively. “So. What’s up?”

 “Well.” PJ settled back against the door, his legs splayed out in front of him. “My parents are going through a divorce, my brother was just arrested in Italy, and the guy I’ve been crushing on for years just sort of got together with a guy I found crying in a closet.”

 “Oh,” and for the first time in Phil's life, he was truly speechless.

 “I mean don’t get me wrong, the fact that your life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows is a bit, well, I don’t know if there’s an English word for it but in German, it’s called ‘schadenfreude.’”

 “Happiness at the misfortune of others, huh?”

 “Human nature, or some shit.” PJ shrugged. “But you’re not really into psych. How do you know that?”

 “Avenue Q,” Phil responded, only earning a questioning look from PJ. “A musical which I’ve sort of wanted to see but they don’t really perform it anymore, schadenfreude is one of the songs, and quite a good one, if I may add.

 “And to be fair, I probably would feel at least a bit happy to see me crying if I was in your situation.” Phil giggled. “So, no hard feelings between us?” Phil asked, failing to hide his worry with the laugh.

 It was then that PJ realised just how uncertain Phil was in his relationships, constantly questioning and second guessing every action and reaction he and others had. So he smiled, and truthfully said, “No hard feelings.”

 “Hey, if you want, I have the songs from Avenue Q saved to my phone, if you want to listen to them.” Doubt and uncertainty flooded his voice as he made the proposition, so much so that PJ couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

 The two stayed in the closet for a while listening to music and talking about what they had just listened to.

 “Phil?” Chris called, knocking on the door. Phil jumped.

 “I heard your voice through the door, you good?” Chris hollered. Phil mumbled something in affirmative.

 “Come on out of the closet, Phil, we’ll still accept you!” Phil groaned, putting his head in his hands.

 “What do you even see in him?” he asked PJ. PJ grinned and shrugged.

 “His lack of social tact is endearing?” he offered. Phil just rolled his eyes.

 “Keep your panties on, I’m com–” Phil started to say, only to be interrupted by Chris crashing through the door.

 “It’s okay if I was just your beard, Phil, I understand that sometimes you have to just–?” Chris' smile immediately turned panicked and he almost fell flat onto his face.

 “How the fuck would dating a dude make Phil seem straight?” Dan asked from outside the door. “I mean I know you're not the most masculine guy ever, Chris, but you don't look like a chick, exactly– oh.” He blinked. “Uh. Hi, PJ.” He threw an elbow into Chris’ side. Chris just squeaked and blushed like mad.

 “Hi, Dan. Uh, Chris.” PJ smiled, entirely casual.

 Chris’ mouth felt dry, but he forced a smile.

 “Hi PJ,”  Chris awkwardly stuttered again.

 “Hey.” PJ said, warmth saturating his voice and the corners of his lips turning upwards. But then he remembered the situation and he coughed as though he was waking up out of a trance. Chris tried to squash the burning warmth spreading through his chest, but he could feel it tickling at his cheeks. He coughed and turned away, running his hand through his hair as an excuse to briefly hide his face.

 To break the silence and lighten the mood, Dan thought he would play Chris’ Game. “Would you guys stop eye-fucking while Phil and I are here?” However, it wasn’t the mood-lifter he was expecting it to be, rather, the room fell even more silent than it had been before, devoid even the awkward coughs and foot-shuffles.

 “Fuck you,” Chris muttered, a surprising amount of venom in his voice when he threw an elbow into Dan’s side.

 Confusion riddled Dan’s face. Chris was usually the first to laugh at any joke - even ones about him regardless of whether or not it was a topic he was self-conscious about. Dan held up his hands in surrender. “Dude, I’m sorry, Jesus. Cool. Calm. Be calm. Calm like the – what’s a calm thing, Phil? Help me out, all I can think of is the soup meme.”

 “Nice breeze?” Phil offered, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi truck.

 Chris snorted, but his lips twitched up into a smile.

 “Shitting-your-pants-scared really isn’t a good look on you, Phil,” Chris said, and Dan let out an audible sigh of relief.

 “Pissed off doesn’t become you, either, Chris,” Phil rebutted, and Dan’s eyebrows flew up.

 Chris froze, a scathing retort dying out on the tip of his tongue. Had Dan really affected him that much? A stupid joke, one that was barely anything compared to his relentless teasing of Dan about Phil? His heart clenched, and Chris could feel hot tears of frustration pricking at his eyelids. He forced them down, clearing his throat and shaking his hair into his eyes.

 “Sorry dude,” he mumbled. Dan could hear the tears hiding behind his voice, but he didn’t say anything. No one else seemed to notice, and Dan had a feeling that Chris wanted to keep it that way.

 Possessiveness bubbled in Dan’s chest for his friend. He couldn’t let him go around hurting like this, no, Dan needed to do something. “Phil, do you not know how to register a situation? Do you even try? Or is everything a joke to you? Are you just going to spend your entire life being a sarcastic fuckwit even when it’s not called for? Your marks aren’t going to get you fucking anywhere if you can’t take anything seriously.” Disgust coloured Dan’s expression.

 “Dan, lay off him, it was an equal response to what I said to him.” Chris’ tone is final. A warning.

 Dan presses on. “Are you fucking serious? Don't let him treat you like dog shit, Chris, honestly, what the fuck do you even see in him.”

 Chris motions PJ to his feet, gripping his wrist. He tries to ignore the niggling, screaming thought that he’s touching PJ for the first time, and drags him out of the closet, slamming the door shut behind him

 “You’re not coming out ‘till calm the hell down.”

 “You went from being pissed to ensure to a therapist in three seconds flat,” PJ mused, and Chris snorted.

 He didn’t justify that with a verbal response, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before sinking down to sit with his back against the door. He could hear Dan shouting and banging from behind it, but he ignored him.

 “You open this fucking door, you cock waffle, I was fighting on your side!”

 “And I asked you to stop. And you didn’t,” Chris hollered back matter-of-factly.

 “Let’s just get this shit over with,” Chris heard Phil mutter.

 “Phil has the spirit!” Chris shot back sarcastically.

 Chris looked up at PJ, who was watching him with an expression of perverse amusement. He began apologetically; “You don’t have to stay for our marital spats, honestly. Go find your friends or whatever, we’re gonna be here for a while.”

 He almost had a heart attack when PJ just shrugged nonchalantly, folding himself gracefully down to sit cross-legged on the floor next to Chris.

 “Nah,” he said, a lopsided grin pulling at his features. “This is plenty fun.”

 Chris’ smile was shaky and unsure as he turned to listen in on the chaos in the closet.

 “Have to admit, never thought I’ be back in the closet,” Phil chuckled, earning a miffed look from Dan. “What I said nothing about your sexuality, calm yourself.”

 “I'm not upset because of that I think you should be aiding my attempt to get us the fuck out of here” Dan exasperatedly dragged out the word out.

 “You heard Chris, he’s not letting us out until we get along, calm down, and we just might get out of here alive.”

 Gritting his teeth, Dan seceded, leaning against the wall as he slumped down to sit.

 “That wasn't so hard, was it?” Chris’ sarcastic jabs could be heard through the thick metal door of the janitorial closet.

 “Can we get out now?” Dan spat through his teeth.

 “I’ve yet to hear you two getting along, merely a realisation that you have to to get out.”

 “What's it going to take?”

 “A kiss.”

 “Nope! You know what you can do? You can fuck right the fuck off because that shit ain't happening!”

 “Kiss and fucking make up,” Chris bit. Footsteps receded down the hall and panic rose in Dan’s throat. He banged on the door with flat palms. Nothing.

 “Chris!” Still nothing.

 Defeated, Dan slumped down against the door and scrubbed his hands over his face. Phil sat against the other wall, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. He rested his chin on his knees and let his eyes slide shut.

 “Just wait him out,” he said, and Dan looked up. “He’ll let us out eventually.”

 “Right, because you’re the one with verging on eight years of friendship with him. You’re the one who knows him better.”

 “The sooner you get your stick out of your ass and replace it with a cock the sooner we can get out of here,” Phil mumbled, and all of his fight exited him on an exhale. He slumped down, his shoulders almost touching his ears. Dan brutally suppressed the sliver of baseless pity that twinged in his chest.

 “The sooner you take your dickish personality and… and…”

 Phil looked up, his empty eyes dull without their usual humour.

 “I don’t know.” Dan threw up his hands. “Something something scathing retort.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” The two lapsed into silence. Phil lay his face on his knees. Dan’s eyes slid shut.

 Fuck. How had his day ended up like this? What deity had he offended in a past life to deserve all of this? Dan groaned silently, cradling his face in his hands.

 “How in the hell do we get out here?” Dan asked, looking up. Phil shrugged.

 “Have you tried the door?”

 “Idiot, of course I’ve tried the fucking door,” Dan spat, even as he reached for the knob and jiggled it. It didn’t budge. “See?”

 Phil just shrugged again, shuffling until he was lying on the floor with his arm curled under his head. A shelf pressed into his lower back and his knees were shoved into his chest by the lack of space, but he still looked the most relaxed he had in a long time. Or maybe he was just fed up with it all. Dan could relate. His eyelids pulled shut but he forced them open, trailing them around the room. Shelves. Boxes. Tons and tons of useless shit shoved in every corner. Broken shower curtains spilling out of a box against the far wall. Bottles upon bottles of cleaning solution. Boxes of individually wrapped soaps and toilet paper. Palettes of tissue boxes.

 “We could just kill ourselves,” Dan joked, pointing to the bottles of Clorox® and Windex®.

 “Don’t tempt me,” Phil murmured, turning so his back was to Dan. Dan tried to laugh, but the sound got stuck in his throat.

 An hour. Two hours. Ten minutes. Thirty seconds. Dan had no idea how much time had passed, but it had been too long. He jumped to his feet, beginning to agitatedly pace around the small room. He tripped over boxes and kicked bottles out of the way. Phil just curled in tighter on himself with each noise Dan made.

 “Can you just calm the fuck down?” He asked, his voice cracking on what Dan could have sworn was a pleading edge.

 “How am I supposed to calm the fuck down when I’m trapped in a goddamn closet with you for god-knows how much longer?” Dan countered, his voice rising until it verged on hysterical.

 “It wasn’t my fucking idea!” Phil spat.

 “It wasn’t mine either!”

 They fell into a tense silence, only broken by the rhythmic slap of Dan’s shoes against the concrete floor.

 “Why is Chris so hell-bent on getting us to kiss?” Dan asked, to no one in particular. Phil didn’t provide an answer, and Dan didn’t expect him to.

 “‘Sides, aren't you two together?” he continued, toeing Phil’s ribs. Phil didn’t say anything, just curled himself impossibly tighter.

 “Aren’t you?” Dan’s voice and foot became more insistent, and Phil shot up.

 “Yes,” he hissed. “At least, last I checked. Now take your blue fucking balls as far the fuck away from me as the fucking room permits or so help me…” He didn’t finish his threat but he didn’t need to. Dan huffed and spun on his heel, continuing his pacing.

 “Are you..” Dan paused, looking over his shoulder with curious eyes. “Are you claustrophobic? Is that why you’re so pissy right now?”

 “Ding ding fucking ding,” Phil muttered dryly. “Get this man a fucking medal.”

 “Oh, shit, really?”

 “Not diagnosable but definitely enough to warrant a lot of discomfort.”

 “Oh.” Dan fidgeted in place. “Um?”

 “So helpful.”

“Well, what the fuck would you rather I do? I can’t exactly get us out of here either!”

 “Just– just shut up. Your pacing is making me anxious.”

 A knock came on the door, interrupting the veil of silence that fell on the two, when Chris’ voice pierced from the outside of the janitorial closet,  “have you two kissed and made up or do I have to leave for another forty minutes.”

 “Uh- yeah, yeah we have.” Dan tried

 “Don’t lie to me Danny-boy,” Chris sing-songed. “I’ve known you for eight, man, I know when you’re lying.”

 “Honestly, Dan, you’ve never even been good at lying.” Another voice, Louise’s, spoke up.

 “Aren’t you two together?”

 “Yeah, I guess, but, I need you to to stop acting like utter cockwaffles around each other.”

 “I don’t… how in the fuck does that… Chris what the shit!” Dan roared, slamming his fist into the door. His knuckles throbbed.

 “I don’t make the rules.”

“But you do!”

 “Okay, I’ll admit, I am every branch of the government, and maybe that’s not the best for the citizens-”

 “You’re telling me-”

 “But, regardless, ‘tis the case.”

 “You know what? Fine. Fucking fine.”

 With nothing but aggression, Dan turned to look at Phil, who was wide-eyed at this whole affair. He quickly got to the other end of the closet – to where Phil was – and grabbed him by the collar just as Louise’s chiding voice drifted through the open door.

 “Chris, come on, that’s not very nice.”

 “I wasn’t actually going to make them, come on. It’s been fifteen minutes. I was tired of them constantly being assholes and giving me a headache regardless of what happened. I know it was a bit extreme but you get it? Right? I mean it might’ve been a bit much, bu–” He stopped dead in his tracks. Phil gasped when Dan dropped him, sending him nearly a foot till he hit the floor. Without a single word, Dan turned and stalked out of the door, his lips and eyes wet and shining in the bright light of the hallway.

 “What in–” Chris swore under his breath. Phil sniffed softly and curled back up with his arm under his head and his face pressed to the wall.

 Dan paused at the doorframe, turning his body part way back to look at Chris, who immediately had a surround-sound flashback to every single k-drama he had ever seen.

  “He’s claustrophobic, you asshat,” Dan spat, before turning on his heels to walk away. The only sound left was the sound of his fading  footsteps as he walked down the vacant hallway. That and Phil’s breath returning from  the previously anxious state it had been in.

 “I’m sorry,” Chris eked out. “I- I didn’t know…”

 “No,” Phil whispered. “No. You didn’t know.”

 Chris opened his mouth to voice some half-formed jab at his life suddenly becoming a bad sitcom, but wisely shut his mouth again.

 “I’m going after him,” Louise muttered, jerking her head in the direction Dan stormed off. Chris nodded helplessly, bringing his thumb up to his mouth and gnawing at the nail.

 PJ patted the spot next to him. Chris just stared at him. He didn’t even notice Phil wander off in the same direction Dan and Louise had gone.

 “Come on in, the water’s fine?” PJ offered, uncertainty making his statement lilt into a question.

 Chris snorted. “The Little Mermaid, really?”

 “Shalalalalala my oh my, look at this boy too shy–” PJ belted, too loud and unfairly on-key for how memey he was being. Chris hid a smile behind an eyeroll and folded himself into a cross-legged position.

 “Ain’t gonna– kiss the girl,” PJ continued, leaning over until he was practically draped over Chris’ lap, his eyes shining and smile bright. “wow, I know that the song was sung by Sebastian but you’re doing better cosplay as him right now.”

 “Shut up,” Chris groaned, railing against every internal instinct he had and shoving PJ off his lap. PJ’s laugh sounded like a choking hyena, Chris noticed. He immediately fell in love with it.

 “Man, staring at me like that isn’t going to stop me from poking fun at you. You know that, right?”

 “Staring at you like what?” Chris challenged.

 “Like you’d pay £500 and punch a baby to suck my dick.”

 “Pffft. As if I’d spend money on you.”

 “But the baby you’re okay with.”

 “Hey. We have enough people as it is. I say if a few defenceless heads get knocked why should I care.”

 “I feel like I should be concerned but honestly I’m just honoured.”

 Chris giggled. “It is the highest honour. A nobel peace prize whomn’t’st’ve?”

 They could hear Louise running for the elevator door before it closed with Dan in it.

 Dan was so close. He had gotten in the elevator and the door was closing. A breath of relief was this close from being released when a foot jammed itself between the retracting elevator doors. He looked up to see Louise tentatively assessing the situation and the state he was in. He didn’t enjoy it. He didn’t want to be treated like someone who needed extra care. Like someone who needed to be danced around lightly as though to protect the fragile circus act that was his life. As if their role was to walk on eggshells as he did mental backflips to avoid all of his problems. Not that he had problems. It got to the point where he coughed in his mind awkwardly to correct himself.

 “Get the fuck out of here with your baby gloves,” he spat. Louise just kind of blinked at him.

 “Excuse me?”

 “Baby gloves. The gloves you use to handle babies. Soft, fragile things. Fuck off with them.”

 Louise put her hands on her hips. Dan swallowed nervously.

 “Fine,” she said. “I won’t dance around anything. You’re being a huge fucking wuss, driving all your friends away for no reason other than you take some weird sadistic pleasure in your own brooding. You’re ignoring the feelings of the people closest to you, pushing them all away just so you can go sulk about it a feel superior and I’m sick and fucking tired of it. I mean for fuck’s sake, Dan, you want to act like a fucking toddler and yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me not to treat you like a baby? I don’t even know what you want from me. I take our side and try to comfort you you’re mad, I oppose you when you’re being a dick and so deserve it you’re mad. I get it. You have emotional turmoil. But we’re your fucking friends. You talk to us about that shit. You don’t take it out on us, you Lego-Batman movie fuckshit.”

 Dan’s jaw had dropped sometime around her opening statement. It’s not so much that he had never seen Louise that pissed, but rather, that she had never been that pissed at him. Or Chris. Or anyone she knew as a friend. And if she did she never had an outburst. Something about her having a healthy family which openly talked about their issues and prioritized problem solving might have affected her positively or something. Fuck that.

 The elevator doors dinged closed. Dan shoved the button to open them again.

 “Fine,” he muttered, his voice thick and his knuckles still aching from the night before. “We’ll fucking talk. In the room.”

 “With Phil,” Louise said.

 “N-n-n-n-n-n-nope! Another strike wrong for Louise! Good try, though, that shit ain’t happening!” He snapped finger guns.

 “Daniel James Howell,” Louise growled. “I am three seconds away from slapping you across the face-”

 “I’ll talk with you, but I hardly know Phil. I don’t have anything to him anyway.”

 There was a moment of silence before Dan realized what he had said and what it had sounded like. “N-not like that. I meant like I’m not sharing my feelings to him. For him. You know?”

 Louise’s expression softened as she looked back at Dan. “Fine,” she conceded. “Shove over.”

 Dan shoved to the side and leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, jamming his knee into the button for their floor.

 “Fine,” he muttered, fixing his hair. “We’ll talk.”

 “Firstly, I’m not gay,” Dan said, leaning back against the door and folding his arms. Louise just hummed from her spot perched on the edge of his bed.

 “Okay. I have never said you were,” she paused for a second, stalling to find a way to frame her question as to delicately handle the topic. “Can I ask you a question?”

 Hesitantly, Dan answered, “Okay.” Making the word sound more like a question itself than an answer.

 “Would it be an issue if you were? Gay, that is.”

 “I don’t know why the question is relevant when I’m not.”

 “Humour me.”

 “There’s is nothing wrong with gay people,” Dan muttered, scuffing his heel on the carpet. “I’m just not one of them.”

 “That’s not what I asked. And you know it, Dan.” Louise sounded a bit done with Dan’s antics.

 “What do you want?” Dan asked, pacing the length of the room, turning on his heel, and pacing back.

 Louise raised an eyebrow.

 “I don’t know,” Dan muttered. He paced faster. “I don’t know!” He sank to the floor, his face in his hands.

 Louise came over to Dan, her steps jolting and uneven. She put her arm around his shoulder slowly and carefully, waiting for him to flinch or pull away. He didn’t. She continued.

 “You want to elaborate?”

 “How?”

“What makes you unsure?”

 “Do you ever get that jolting feeling in the pit of your stomach when something is about to change everything you thought you knew about yourself and the world?” Louise nodded, but she wasn’t sure if Dan could see her through his fingers or not. “Yeah, that.”

 “Well, regardless of whether or not you’re gay, your direct friends wouldn’t change because of it. We would love you the same. It’s like if you wore a hat every day we knew you and took it off to reveal you have brown hair, it was still you, nothing has changed, we just know more.”

 “I know,” Dan said. “I know.”

 “Good. But other than that,” she said, and Dan was pretty sure his sigh of relief could have rivaled anything Aeolus had on hand. “What the fuck is up?”

 “I dunno. I’m a bit stressed from school. I mean my mum yelled at me even though I still have a B- average because apparently I ‘ruined’ my grades. Can’t get into a university like that, you know.” He chuckled emptily. “It’s fine though, minimum wage doesn’t seem that bad, right. Oh god, I can’t even joke about that it sounds so bad.”

 “If all else fails, prostitution is a viable career option.”

 “Man, I wish, but my mum would yell at me and then kill me and then haul me back from the spirit realm from my hair to yell at me some more. She has this creepy sixth sense where she can always tell what I’m doing. Well, not always, but she’s scarily accurate.”

 “You do know it’s not her life, right?” Louise said softly. “Her opinion doesn’t mean jack shit where you should be concerned.”

 “Yeah, it’s my life. That I’ll be watching pass me by from the comfort of a cardboard box, lmao.” He didn’t pronounce all of the individual letters, just said it like a regular word.

 “It’s some fuckshit,” Louise agreed. “But fuck, dude, if you aren’t gonna try for shit, might as well cock it all. Paired up with Phil y’are for a reason, utilize that shit n get fuckin good, bro. Shit’s not gonna uncock itself just cause u shove your head up your bum, it sucks taint but you gotta put some effort in too. But you ain’t alone or nothing. You got Resources mcfuckin use them bitch.”

 “When did you go from reserved and comforting to all out tired talks at 3 am city talk?”

 “You know what, I didn’t come here for this. I’m here comforting this bitch and he deadass calls me out this is an attack on my character.”

 “I never said there was something wrong. It was just unexpected, s’all.”

 “Good, because the fuckin coddling wasn’t doing jack so I decided a good old fashioned talking to would help you set fuckin stright.”

 “It’s endearing. And vaguely threatening.”

 “Good.” Louise hauled herself up. “Another 20 seconds of brutal honesty? Talk to Phil. I don’t care what about. Don’t fuck it up just because you’re worried about what it might be. Enjoy it for what it is, whatever that may be.?

 “Wow, edge-lord Louise, 20 seconds of brutal honesty,” Dan jokingly mocked.

 “In the words of The Aristocats, ‘Ladies don’t start fights, but they sure can finish them." She didn’t bother extending a hand to help Dan up, dusting off her skirt and straightening her sweater.

 “Nope, she’s back. Welcome back, Louise.”

 “So, it seems, are you, Dan. Welcome back. I’ve missed you.” She hugged him as he stood.

[phanromaniac]

Take Your Chances, I'll Take Mine. (Chapter 5)

Pairing: (Phan) (I mean) (My Name Kinda Gives It Away)

Summary:  Dan Hates Phil. Phil Lester, the boy who, frustratingly, got the best marks in the class yet never actually studied. Dan’s hands clenched in anger just thinking about it. Phil Lester, who was always surrounded by friends, despite being part of the chess club, debate team, and practically any other nerdy extracurricular activity you could think of. Everyone, even the stereotypical  'cool kids’  liked, or at least respected him.  Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the way him, biting his lips, didn’t distract him. Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the bubbly feeling he didn’t give him in his stomach because Dan definitely wasn’t gay.

Alternatively: It’s on Wattpad, too (Now on AO3, as well)

Warnings: Sexuality Crisis, Financial Insecurity (Not Too Much), Arguing (And like a crap tonne of swear words), Eventual smut

*Important* Tell me if I didn’t tag something.

*Important No. 2* Co-written with @xinyanhowell who is gr9 and should definitely be looked at 100%.

Chapters: one, two, three, four

The first thing Dan noticed when he woke up was his lack of pants. The second thing he noticed was his lack of a shirt. The third thing he noticed was voices, talking in low murmurs across the room. Dan wanted to go back to sleep.

His head pounded like a kickdrum and he groaned aloud, bringing the quiet conversation across the room to a screeching halt.

“Time’sit?” Dan slurred, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“8:15” a voice, Phil’s voice, said gently. Dan cracked one eye open.

“Why am I naked?” Someone across the room chuckled, but Phil’s voice was as gentle as ever when he responded: “Do you not remember what happened yesterday evening?”

A montage straight out of a movie flashed through Dan’s head in full panoramic colour, from his migraine to his and Chris’ fight to the fact that he puked all over Phil. Oh fuck, he puked all over Phil.

“Anything I say about that’s probably just gonna dig me deeper, isn’t it?” Dan asked. He could almost hear Phil’s nod from the corner of the room.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly.” Phil walked into Dan’s field of vision, smiling softly.

“Sorry about vomiting on you,” Dan said, his voice sounding as if he was disappointed in himself more than anything else.

“Hey,” Phil softly reassured, as if he were approaching a wounded animal, “it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. Couldn’t have been, you blacked out immediately afterward.”

“Oh, and sorry for complaining yesterday when you did my work, I really should have thanked you.”

“Not a problem, but, if I may ask, what caused the change of heart.”

“I’m too tired to argue.”

“Fair enough.”

“I can do more of the project today, if you want.”

“Dan, please don’t take this the wrong way but-”

“Grades?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No, it’s a fair point, and the reason I was paired with you.”

Phil giggled, and Dan noticed something: this is one of the few times they had been civil and he would much rather hear Phil laugh than fight with him. This realisation was quickly followed by blushing, and vehement mental denial.

“What’s with the blush you’re sporting?”

“Thoughts.”

“Might they be thoughts of the sexual variety?” Phil said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, my god, you’ve been spending way too much time with Chris.” Dan joked, but he seemed to choke on Chris’ name. “Uh, how is he, by the way?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, haven’t talked to him since before your guys’ fight. Though, I must say it was odd of him to turn down a fight, he seems like the type to always stand his ground.”

“He is, that’s what worries me.”

Phil just nodded silently as he packed up his stuff for the field trip that day, mostly just a notebook and pens tossed into his backpack, which he then slung over his shoulder.

“What the fuck even are we supposed to be doing?” Dan asked, sat on the edge of his bed and swinging his legs in an almost childish way.

“We’ll know when the teacher does her lecture– fuckery of a thing,” Phil said, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was just so tired, and the events of the past day had done a lot to drain his usually boisterous personality.

Dan got ready in silence, trying but failing to keep his eyes off of Phil’s face. He felt less than, somehow. It wasn’t something he was use to feeling, this nauseating combination of guilty and inadequate. Phil made his way to the washroom to get dressed and ready. In a way, he felt Dan might appreciate it more if he didn’t have to explain himself to Phil.

Dan did appreciate it; it made him relax, for a bit at least, until he started questioning why he was so relaxed that Phil left to change. He picked up his phone, having already changed, so that he could avoid falling further into his spiral of thoughts - and for a while it was working - then Phil came out wearing glasses of all things. Dan tried his best to keep his jaw from hitting the floor (or his dick, more appropriately).

“What?” he asked. If Dan didn’t know better, he would have thought Phil sounded self-conscious.

“You- I didn’t know you needed glasses,” Dan confessed, mildly impressed that his voice only breathily wavered instead of cracking. Phil tossed a lopsided smile to the floor, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, my vision’s pretty shit, but I wear contacts most of the time.”

“How bad is it?” Dan asked. As someone who had 20/20 vision, Dan couldn’t imagine being dependent on some lenses to be able to see across the room.

Phil frowned, thinking. “Like, negative three and a half in both eyes?” Dan cocked his head. Like a puppy, Phil thought, then immediately tried to forget. He pulled the black frames off his face. “Here. When you wear it, it’s about what I see when I’m not, I think.”

Dan took the extended glasses, careful not to brush Phil’s fingers with his own. He slid them onto his face, blinking hard when they rested on his nose.

“Fuck,” Dan sputtered, looking up at Phil’s blurry face, “you’re blind as shit.”

Phil snorted, squinting down at Dan. Which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea because Dan’s eyes were impossibly magnified by the lenses, bright and shining and something in Phil’s chest twinged painfully with how good Dan looked.

“Take a picture of me, so I know what I look like,” Dan asked excitedly.

“Sure,” Phil said, trying to contain his own excitement as he reached into his back pocket and phil fumbled for his phone. His phone, not Dan’s, because he needed to keep that photo and Dan sure as hell wouldn’t be willing to text it to him.

Dan smiled, and Phil’s hands were almost shaking too hard to hit the button, but he pulled himself together enough to manage - knowing in the long run he would benefit immensely by having the photos (as blackmail material… obviously…  No other reason. None at all).

“Okay, there.” he said as he snapped the 12th photo on his phone, “now give them back to me, I want to be able to see again.”

“Alright, alright,” Dan said in mock-defeat, and Phil almost felt like letting him keep them. As he put his glasses back on he heard a small gasp omit from Dan’s lips, but he decided not to comment on it - to save both of them the conversation. Staring at each other for a few seconds until Phil broke the silence. “”So, uh, you want to see the pictures?’

“That’s why I asked you to take them isn’t it?” Dan giggled, slightly ashamed to what Phil fucking Lester and his fucking glasses reduce him to.

“Sorry,” Phil said, sarcastically shrugging his shoulders, putting almost enough emphasis on each syllable to be cartoonish. “So, uh, here they are,” Phil extended his arm, hoping that Dan wouldn’t go through anything on it.

Dan giggled for what was probably the 50th time that day, and it wasn’t even nine am. “I look like a mole.” The smile he had made a dimple that was only slightly visible, but enough so that Phil’s heart sped up.

In order to not get caught by Dan (and himself) he spoke up. “We should probably get down to get some breakfast, or something. We have to leave in like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, and I should probably talk to Chris too, you know, about yesterday.” Dan said, his jokey demeanor almost completely disappearing. Seeing Dan like this made Phil swallow his comment on how he’s not sure that Chris would want to talk to him after how pissed of - or rather, embarrassed - Chris was in regards to yesterday’s events.

They were only halfway to where they were sitting yesterday when Louise singled Dan out. “You broke him,” she venomously whispered, and Dan’s blood froze in his veins when he noticed the full force of the fire in her eyes, completely and totally serious.

“What?” Dan was perplexed, trying to figure out why Louise would be mad at him He said nothing to her, in fact she should be apologizing to both him and Chris for how she had treated them like children the night before, but before he could start arguing with Louise she extrapolated.

“Look! Look at him!” she said, pointing in the direction of a Chris who wasn’t making any passes at anyone - in fact, he wasn’t even talking to anyone at all, and he was looking down at his food without eating it, as if he couldn’t bear stomach it. “You broke him, Dan!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Louise.” Dan scoffed.

“Fine, then you go talk to Mr. Cheerful Chris and his totally not-there personality!” Louise snapped, very poorly masking her worry.

“I will!” Dan barked back, but if he were being honest with himself, the fact that Louise was worried scared him. She had an intuition with people, especially with her friends. Dan shook that thought off and stormed off in Chris’ direction before remembering that he wanted fix things and not fight, then he changed his footing, making it a lot lighter, as if to dance as delicately around the problem with as with his worry that Louise was right.

“Hey, Chris!” He attempted to stay enthusiastic, but awkwardly failed.

Chris looked up from his food to Dan. He nodded and smiled, but it wasn’t a smile that Dan knew from Chris, it was one Chris gave his mum when she said his father would be coming over. Looking up from his smile Dan noticed the dark bags under his eyes, and the lack of mischievous light.

“So, about yesterday,” Dan started, intending to get an apology in, but Chris interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, Dan, what I said was out of line I will refrain from doing that again.”

Dan tried his hardest to find an ounce of sarcasm in Chris’ voice, but failed. Instead he found a tired, scraping sound that he had never heard from Chris before. Chris apologizing for being out of line was one thing, as he had to ask for forgiveness for his faux pas every day, but he always followed it up with a joke, or a jab. Dan waited, but Chris said nothing else. That wasn’t the only worrying thing Chris said. Chris was saying he would try to not be honest to Dan again, or at least he wouldn’t say what he perceived.

Dan wanted to get Chris out of whatever the fuck he was going through, so he offered up something Chris could never have resisted: the opportunity for a “Your Mum” joke. “So, uh, Chris?” Dan started, smirking stupidly as if he had figured out a cure to Chris’ stupor, “what are you doing?” Dan was preparing for the remark, making sure Chris heard the innuendo by putting too much emphasis on doing.

Dan’s smirk quickly fell when met with Chris’ energy-drained eyes as he slowly looked up.

“I’m not sure, you?” He sounded almost like a stranger, like Dan was someone he had spoken to twice before and they were paired together to work on something. Dan noticed Chris raise his eyebrow and look behind Dan. After following his line of view Dan saw that Phil and Louise were intensely looking at the two of them, and only to pretending to be deep in conversation when caught staring.

Dan directed his gaze back to Chris. “Can I sit here?” He hoped against hope Chris would say something perverse as usual, like, “no, but you can sit on this dick,” before laughing wholeheartedly at Dan’s mock-disgusted reaction. But Chris just nodded, keeping his chin tucked to his chest and his eyes glued to the floor. Dan sat, cautiously, waiting with bated breath for Chris to erupt at him.

It never happened. Chris kept his eyes down for a few moments longer, his gaze slowly climbing until it rested just below Dan’s chin, but he never really met Dan’s eyes.

Louise was right; Dan had broke him. Dan’s threat went dry at the thought. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it again.

A teacher came into the dining hall, barking for everyone to finish up and be out front with their partners in ten minutes. Chris abruptly stood, pressing his palms to the table and letting his hair fall in a curtain around his face. He opened his mouth, then shook his head minutely and closed it again, grabbing his plate and depositing it in the bin with more force than really necessary. Dan’s eyes followed his hunched shoulders as he exited the room, shoving the door with enough force to send it slamming into the wall. Dan looked to Phil, then to Louise, helpless.

“What the fuck happened?” he whispered, afraid of speaking too loudly and somehow setting Chris off, despite the fact the boy was nowhere near Dan. Louise shook her head softly, staring blankly at the door even as more classmates chatted their way through it.

“What the fuck indeed,” she said, and if it sounded too much like a cheesy teen movie line Dan didn’t say anything.

~-~

Dan and Phil worked in their room in silence – well, Phil worked, Dan just did his best to stay out of the way – for the entirety of the field trip, only speaking to each other on the bus ride back, six hours later. Since their departure from the hotel that morning clouds had gathered, thick and heavy in the sky, and Dan rolled his eyes. It was just like a novel; the weather synced perfectly to his mood. Did that make him the protagonist? Dan had never wanted to be the protagonist, he’d always related more to the best friend, or the love interest. Useless, but with enough clumsiness and witty remarks to unfailingly get into and out of terrible situations with or without the help of his friends. So then that made Chris the protagonist? Dan snorted and rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the idea of Chris being the selfless hero type.

“What?” Phil asked, breaking their day-long silence. Dan pointed to the sky.

“Chris is the protagonist.”

Phil just looked confused. Dan waved a hand dismissively. “Not important.”

They were silent for a few tense minutes. Dan picked his nails. Phil stared out the window.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, then flinched at the sound of his own voice. It was too forced, too empty, too unsympathetic. Phil’s lips pulled down and Dan tried again.

“I mean. I know it’s a lot between me and Chris, but that doesn’t mean other people aren’t affected by us. You and Louise and stuff. And I know you, in particular, because you and Chris are- umm…” Dan trailed off stupidly. What were Phil and Chris? Boyfriends? Fuckbuddies? Friends-who-made-out-that-one-time-and-swore-to-never-speak-of-it-again? He flapped his mouth dumbly, eventually giving up and hoping Phil would fill in the now-awkward silence that stretched between them. Phil turned his hundred-yard stare from the window to Dan, and Dan winced.

“I don’t know,” Phil said, his voice so small and so, so sad. Dan’s heart broke a little bit just listening to him. “We haven’t spoken since yesterday.”

“Oh,” Dan said intelligently, frantically searching for something to follow that up with. In a part of him he would never like to admit, he was a bit relieved that Chris and Phil hadn’t talked about the event, that it wasn’t too soon for something to prevent them from getting together. It also put him under a bit of stress, were they following the classic ‘will they-won’t they” trope? Dan honestly didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say, so he decided to wait for Phil to charismatically brighten up the conversation, as he so well knows how to do. When nothing came, Phil turned back out the window, and Dan let him, silently cursing himself for trying to initiate a meaningful conversation. He glared at the tear in the back of the seat in front of him, searching for the answers to life in the fabric and stuffing. The clouds broke overhead. Dan wiped away frustrated tears.

In attempt to distract himself from the constant mess of a knot that was his mind, Phil tried to change the topic to something, anything that might have the prospect of diverting his thoughts in any other direction. He spoke up, “so my mum has been getting on my case about what I should do with my life, like I have a fucking clue. She says I’m wasting such potential for not going into law or medicine or other things of that variation. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know, I might want to go into film writing, or acting or something, maybe even drawing, I’m pretty good at that, but I’m most likely going to just stick to the arts, what with not being good at maths and sciences and all.”

“That sounds fun. More fun than like. Neurosurgery or something.”

“If you could wake up tomorrow with a job, what would it be?”

“I mean I guess I’d want to go into graphic design, or directing a movie or something like that.”

“Really? You could go into any of the ‘parent-respected’ jobs with your marks and yet you would chose an unstable art career?”

“You sound just like my mum, honestly,” Phil sighed passively, as if he has had to explain this more frequently than he breathed, “being good at memorising it doesn’t mean I would like to have a career in it, in fact, I would go as far as to say I would hate it. Do you know how depressing it is to stare at those god-awful medical books? God, I would rather die.”

“Do you even read the textbooks for school?”

“No. Why?”

“How the fuck do you memorise all those things?”

“I’m an auditory learner, I just remember it when it’s read to me. That and mnemonics whenever I have to memorise a list or something.”

“Could you teach me, honestly it would spare me so much time”

“If you want me to actually tutor you, I could try.”

“You know a few days ago I would have probably gotten mad and claimed you were a conceded piece of shit-”

“Which I am-”

“Shush I wasn’t finished,” Dan giggled, wildly looking into Phil’s blue eyes - that were totally gross, what was he thinking, “but that would be nice.” Phil looked mildly surprised, but then his face pulled into a warm smile that made Dan’s heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” Phil said slowly, testing the waters. “I think that would be okay.”

An awkward silence fell and Dan was first this time to break it, “so, what is are project on? You’ve yet to fill me in on it.”

Without thought, Phil replied, “I thought we could do residential areas and housing in urban areas versus the ones in suburban, and rural, and in the future of the residential areas due to population increase.”  Dan looked estranged. “What?”

“Why would you pick something that’s going to take that much effort‽” Dan worriedly whisper-yelled, “I mean how are we going to accurately predict stuff like that‽”

“It’s not going to take that much effort. I mean, look at it this way: Population increases, housing needs to increase, cities take up less space and more people live and are moving there, therefore higher density housing will most likely become more popular,” Phil shrugged as Dan gaped at him. “You said you were pretty good at art, yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean I’m no Picasso but-” Dan started before his mind turned on and started questioning things, “wait, why, aren’t you the person who just said he wanted to go into graphic design?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Photoshop is different than a sketchbook, asshole. I can’t draw for shit, so I figure -”

“Where’s the rubric,” Dan asked. Phil handed it over, and Dan glanced over it. “Okay, this isn’t too bad, five pictures and a clear title.”

“See, and I saw that as the worst part, especially considering I couldn’t do computer stuff. Everyone has their strengths.”

Dan handed the rubric back. “Then you have fun with your six full paragraphs, sadist.”

“Only if you’re into that,” Phil said, almost as an afterthought. Dan snorted.

“You have got to talk to Chris less, he is really influencing you.’

Phil’s easy smile melted away into a vaguely uncomfortable expression.

“Right,” Dan sighed. “I forgot we aren’t all exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”

Phil shrugged, but he didn’t meet Dan’s eyes.

The rest of the day was uneventful; Dan had sat on his bed and sketched out an outline of the poster, while Phil outlined the essay on Dan’s phone. Well, he started on the archaic desktop of the hotel’s tiny office, but eventually moved to his phone. The data expenses were more than worth having a typing speed of above one word per eon.

Phil peeked up over the screen of the phone and, seeing Dan fully immersed in his sketching, clicked to the ‘messages’ app.

Hey chirs he said. It’s phil

He immediately clicked back to google docs, his heart racing as he flicked his eyes back up. Dan had shifted his sketchbook ninety degrees on his lap, but he didn’t show any interest in Phil. His tongue peeked out from between his teeth, his brows furrowing in concentration. He muttered something to himself, picking up the eraser from the sheets beside him.

Dan’s phone buzzed in Phil’s hands minutes later, and Phil cringed. It was Chris.

“Anything interesting?” Dan asked, not even lifting his eyes from his page. Phil shook his head.

“Younow notification,” he said by way of explanation.

“Oh, so I should be prepared to hear another twenty buzzes in the next two minutes.”

“Can I silence it then?” Phil asked, glad he got away with it.

“Do whatever you want,” Dan said, hunching his shoulders in what was probably a terribly uncomfortable manner, his pencil making quick, light strokes over the page.

Phil chuckled a bit and raised his eyebrow, and Dan scoffed, “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it, you dickwad.”

“No more furry porn, got it,” Phil said with a totally flat voice. Dan scoffed, then paled slightly when he met Phil’s totally serious face.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously anyways. Phil just stared back at him, but as soon Dan started moving closer to Phil, the corners of his lips twitched up, betraying him. Dan sat down next to Phil.

“No, I didn’t, but next time…” Phil said, trailing off with a waggle of his eyebrows. “No promises.”

“Was that supposed to be ominous?” Dan asked, referring to Phil’s eyebrows. “Because it really just looks like you’re trying way too hard.”

“Well, your mum.”

“Ooh, what a great retort.”

Phil quickly pulled up a picture of an atlas on Dan’s phone and turned it around so Dan could see it, “show me where I asked.”

“Pfft, shut up,”  Dan giggled

“Make me,” Phil said, his face falling serious. Dan’s eyes widened at the words, slightly moving in, his eyes moving from Phil’s eye to his lips, slowly moving in until Phil started laughing. “Alright, time to work,” Phil sighed, not noticing a flushed Dan.

Dan awkwardly shuffled away from Phil and back to his plan for the poster, tripping in the process, nervously laughing as he did so. “Yeah, l, uh, I shou- we should, uh, get back to, uh, working.”

Phil turned back to Dan’s phone, turning to check the text from Chris.

,,, hi phil,,, gotta say youre terrible at  pranks

Never claimed to be good at anything

Also i have a question, whats with you

Oh nothing much you?

No i dont mean ‘whats up’ i mean what is with you today

Nothings up with me

Yeah? Whered your personality go then?

You need to talk to dan

I mean we should talk too

About. The kissing, and whatever, i guess

Okay gotta get back to work tho we’ll talk after lunch see ya

See ya

Phil quickly deleted all the messages and returned to document, looking up at Dan every now and again. Phil finished the basic summary of two of the paragraphs, and told Dan he would be heading down to the cafeteria, thinking he’d be able to talk to Chris alone. However, Dan had simply joined him, claiming that it made more sense for them to just go together.

“So, how do you think I should go about talking to Chris?” Dan implored.

“I don’t know, I guess I could ask you the same question. How should I go about talking to Chris?” Dan blanched, realising what Phil meant. He felt something eat away at him as he thought about Phil with Chris, but it was only because he didn’t want his best friend dating someone as annoying as Phil Lester, obviously.

“Well I guess we’re in the same boat, then.”

Phil sighed heavily. “Yeah. I guess so.”

They passed the elevator ride in tense silence. The doors dinged and slid open.

Dan cast his eyes around the room, eventually finding Chris curled in on himself on a couch in the corner. Dan tried not to worry, but Chris was one of the most extroverted people Dan knew, and if he didn’t want to talk to anyone something was definitely up. Dan’s hand found Phil’s and he tugged the boy forward, dropping his hand as soon as he realized what he had been doing.

“I, uh, didn’t mean, uh -”

“Dan, I know, chill.”

“Right.” Dan nodded decisively, leading the way. Chris didn’t even look up, just curled further in on himself. Dan scoffed, dragging Chris up by his wrist.

“What the fuck do you want?” Chris said, but it lacked any of his usual venom. It was cold, flat. ‘Emotionless’ isn’t a word Dan ever thought he would use to describe Chris, but here he was

“You’re coming with me,” Dan said. Planting his feet and puffing out his chest and putting as much authority into his words as he could. Chris just stared through him, but Phil made a small noise of surprise from over Dan’s shoulder.

“We need to talk,” Dan said, and Chris swung his blank gaze to Dan’s face.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” he said tonelessly, yanking his arm back and pressing his face into the pillow again. Dan’s shoulders deflated a little, and he sighed.

“Well I have something to say to you, and you’re gonna listen.”

Chris didn’t even grace him with a response.

Dan stared down at him.

“Phil, help me carry him.”

Phil’s startled noise was louder this time, and incrementally closer to Dan’s ear.

“Excuse me?”

Chris didn’t move.

“We’re gonna carry him back up to our room. I’ll text Louise when we get there. Get his legs.”

Dan slotted his forearms under Chris’ armpits, tugging him upwards. Chris went boneless, his head lolling back onto Dan’s chest. Phil hadn’t moved.

“Get his legs,” Dan said, trying and failing to keep the smile out of his voice. If Chris wanted to be difficult, then fine. Dan’s the most stubborn motherfucker he knows.

Phil hid his own smile behind a small cough, stepping awkwardly between Chris’ legs and hooking one knee over each of his arms. Their classmates and even a few random people were staring, but Dan didn’t care. It’s not like he had a reputation to protect, at this point. That ship had sailed long ago.

The trio awkwardly shuffled to the elevator. Phil tripped over his own feet, peeking back over his shoulder to avoid running over any more walls. He hit the ‘up’ button, and readjusted his grip as they waited for the elevator.

“You can put me down now,” Chris said, but he wasn’t angry. His eyes were lighter, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

“How do I know you won’t just run away again?” Dan said suspiciously, leaning over and looking Chris in the eye. Chris huffed out a laugh. It didn’t sound entirely genuine, but at least he was trying.

“You are permitted,” Dan intoned, nodding at Phil to drop his legs. Phil let him down softly, extending a hand to help pull Chris to his balance. Chris stood up and leaned forward, buying his face in Phil’s shoulder. Phil’s arms wrapped around his waist, and he swayed slightly. Dan swallowed against the lump that grew in his throat which felt suspiciously like his heart.

“Thanks,” Chris said, his voice muffled against the fabric of Phil’s shirt. Dan wasn’t sure who Chris was talking to, so he stayed silent.

“For caring enough to force me,” Chris clarified, lifting his head briefly to meet Dan’s eyes. Dan forced himself to keep eye contact, nodding once.

“You’re my best friend,” he said, his voice a little bit shakier than he would have liked. Chris nodded, pressing his face back into Phil’s shirt and inhaling deeply. Phil’s grip was a little tighter, and a little bit stiffer.

“And I went too far yesterday,” Dan hazarded. Chris looked up, thinking, then pushed off of Phil’s chest. He raised his eyebrow, prompting Dan to go on and Dan’s mouth went dry. He had no idea what the fuck to say. “I guess I’m mostly trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Mostly?” Chris said, his smile tired. “What’s the rest, then?”

Dan’s mouth went dry. He wanted to do something stupid and dramatic, like throw down his gauntlet and swing Phil into his arms, riding off into the sunset while dramatic music swelled behind him. Well, except for the fact that Phil was too heavy, and it was three in the afternoon, and he didn’t know where to get a horse. And, you know, he’s straight and hates Phil. But he couldn’t quite squash the surge of possessiveness that erupted in his chest when Chris sidled into Phil’s arms like it was nothing, like Dan’s heart didn’t involuntary twinge in his ribcage. He settled for a wry smile and downturned eyes, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

“Not important,” he said, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. He raised his chin, looking anywhere but Chris eyes.

Chris’ smile dropped a few degrees, but he let it go.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess- I guess we should.”

“Maybe- Maybe I should just, for the beginning, you know, just – um – leave, or something?” Phil offered, his right hand tapping out a nervous tattoo on the wall of the elevator. The doors slid open as Dan met his eyes. Phil’s were wide with what looked to be panic. Dan opened his mouth, but Phil shook his head.

“O-okay,” Dan said, and Phil mouthed ‘thank you’ before dashing – well, speed walking – down the hall. Chris watched him leave, keeping his eyes off of Dan for as long as possible.

“Well,” Chris said with a sigh as Dan opened the door to his and Phil’s room. Dan moved to sit on his own bed, toeing off his shoes and crossing his legs underneath him. Chris moved to sit on Phil’s bed, but thought better of it at the last second and instead sank down in the uncomfortable armchair in the corner of the room, by the window.

“So,” Chris said, and a smile tilted up at that exact angle, the smooth, suave, shit-eating angle Dan hadn’t realized he had missed so fucking much. “I do believe my only job requirement is to listen you grovel for my mercy?”

“Fuck,” Dan said, and his eyes and the back of his nose prickle with unshed tears. “I’m so glad you’re back.” His entire sentence felt like a sigh of relief.

Chris smiled, genuine this time. His voice was thicker than usual when he responded, “I’m not hearing any begging, Howell. Get on your knees and do it right, and then maybe I’ll do you right.”

“Shut up.”  A giggle slipped out along with the words, and Chris’ smile lifted up at the edges. Dan rolled his eyes and slid off his bed, ending up on his knees. Chris’ eyes widened and his chest shook with barely-contained laughter.

“I missed you too,” he said, his voice soft and fond. But then he laughed again.

“If this is how you repay me, you should get in trouble more often.”