#waits til it's off to sneak as close as possible and beat its ass

[ii-zi]

Incredibly sweaty. Tired. Aching. Five shades darker bc of the sun even with an umbrella. Hungry as fuck. Eyed swollen. Lips cracked. Dehydrated. Somehow at three pounds heavier. Haven't slept in like two fucking days. 80% snot 20% dirt I've inhaled even thru the mask.

But I got Tita spayed!!!

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 13 (now complete)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, deeper than anticipated but still not that deep y'all this is primarily silly, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 6,375 for this chapter (59,473 total) (damn, i was really hoping to hit 60k)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Do you need to do some laundry before bed?" Phil asks, stirring vegetables with the kind of dubious intensity that Dan recognises from setting one too many meals on fire himself. "Or is all your stuff dry-clean only?"

"Very funny," says Dan. He's keeping an eye on the rice, but it requires much less effort. "Yeah, I could do a load tomorrow."

Phil looks up from his skillet for the first time since he turned the heat on. "Tomorrow? Dan, you leave tomorrow."

"Not til like two," Dan says with a little shrug.

The way Phil is looking at him makes him laugh. He's never seen the man's eyes so wide and anxious, so like a deer in headlights. Dan gently nudges him away from the hob by the hip and takes over vegetable watch.

"Dan," Phil says again, "that's not very much time. You don't want to pack tonight?"

"It sounds like you probably want me to pack tonight, Phil," says Dan. "I'm good at throwing things together last minute, though. I'm not worried about being late."

"I'm worried about you being late," says Phil. "Wouldn't it be easier to pack tonight and just hang out tomorrow?"

Dan smirks and tosses the rice in with the vegetables and sauce, just to get it all stirred together. One of Phil's hands is settled on the small of his back as he needles Dan about this, and it all feels so disgustingly domestic that Dan almost can't handle it.

"Uh huh," he says, trying not to let the fondness seep too much into his tone. "So, what you're saying is, you want me to do my laundry tonight so you can keep me in bed all morning?"

"Yes, but also, I've got time anxiety," Phil chuckles. He presses a kiss to the back of Dan's neck, which makes him shiver.

"You've got anxiety about the concept of time? Honestly, same."

"Stupid," says Phil. He isn't trying to hide the fondness the way Dan is, the affection coming off him in waves as he presses himself into Dan's side, drops a kiss to Dan's shoulder. "That too, I suppose, but I mean about being late. I always have my stuff packed like, two days in advance."

"Absolutely cannot relate," Dan says, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. "But yeah. I can do a load so you're not anxious about my unpacked suitcase all night."

That's not something he would normally offer, because Dan is almost never actually late and he's just fine with his current method of timekeeping, thanks, but he'd rather keep Phil in the best possible mood. And, okay, maybe it does sound kind of nice to just have a lie-in without running around to try and grab all the things he's somehow strewn across the flat in these short days.

It's strange, actually. Dan has spent a lot of his adult life on other people's couches and in hotel rooms, and he's good at keeping his stuff compartmentalized because of that. Something about how comfortable he feels here has him treating it like it's his own home. He's absolutely certain that Phil doesn't mind, if he even notices - it's not exactly obvious that Dan's chargers and straighteners and toothbrush haven't found their way back to his bags when Phil's junk is strewn across every possible surface.

Dan bumps his hip into Phil's and turns off the hob. "You ready to eat?"

"Literally always," says Phil. His hand leaves Dan's back, and Dan feels a bit bereft for it.

Still, he supposes, joining Phil on the sofa to watch some MasterChef while Thor acts like he isn't quietly begging for scraps isn't the worst way to spend an evening. In fact, if that's the only way Dan wants to spend all his dinners from here on out, nobody has to know.

--

Dan takes a shower while Phil goes on a walk with the dog, and he spends more time zoning out than he does actually washing himself. His phone is blaring a playlist he doesn't even remember making, and while it has some real bangers on it, he keeps getting distracted trying to track down the memory of it in his brain. Then, of course, his mind just drifts from there.

He thinks about his family, about the emails he still hasn't checked, about Adrian spouting bullshit profoundness down a phone line. He thinks about Heatwave, and his role in the whole mess of it, and what Amy will say when he tells her that he doesn't want to be a part of it going forward. He thinks about London, about the way the city has felt like an eventuality before but not quite like this, about how Phil is really what makes it feel like a place Dan can settle down and build a life for himself.

Most of all, Dan thinks about how much it is going to suck to be away from Phil for however long they have to be.

Long distance relationships aren't exactly Dan's forte. Which, okay, to be fair, relationships generally are not exactly Dan's forte, but he understands how this part works. He understands sex and cuddling and kissing, even if it all feels like the dial has been turned up to eleven with Phil, but he's not a hundred percent sure how to keep this sort of energy when they're an entire ocean apart. Dan is kind of a jealous person with a yo-yo of self esteem, and Phil is a very handsome and charming man who surely has far better prospects than talking to Dan on Skype until he falls asleep.

And that thought process isn't one Dan really needs to go down, is it.

He decides to try and trace back an inside joke to its inception while he washes his hair, because surely that's a better use of his time than heading down a rabbit hole of insecurity. He's still pondering that when there's a knock at the bathroom door and it opens.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil's voice comes, just loud enough to be heard over the shower and the music. Dan's eyes are closed so he doesn't get any fucking shampoo in them, and he has no idea if Phil is looking at him through the glass screen or not. He makes a noise to indicate he's heard Phil and tilts his head forward to start rinsing his hair. "You want me to throw your clothes in for you now? I can leave you something of mine to wear."

"I'd take something of yours anyway," Dan says, dry. He keeps his eyes closed. If he doesn't look, then he can live in a world where his boyfriend is checking him out just for the hell of it. Dan doesn't mind being watched by the right eyes.

"Of course you would. Anything that can't go in the wash?"

Dan grins and shrugs, even though Phil might not be looking at him. "I mean, read the fucking labels, mate. But yeah, none of my dress shirts."

"Got it." There's a beat of relative silence for so long that Dan starts to wonder if Phil has managed to leave the room without making noise - not Phil's strong suit at the best of times - but then he speaks again, low and amused. "If I were a murderer, Dan, you'd be so dead right now. Why are you facing the tap, you absolute freak?"

Water goes up Dan's nose when he laughs, and he's sure the sound of him cough-laughing isn't exactly attractive. He turns around and cracks an eye open to check if Phil is laughing at him or not.

Phil is resting against the bathroom counter with his arms crossed and a smirk playing around his pretty lips. If Dan were not acutely aware of the injuries it would cause, he'd whinge until Phil joined him under the spray.

"I'm just having a face the tap kind of day," he informs Phil, making sure his hair is completely devoid of any shampoo that might sneak-attack his eyes and make him look even more hilariously incompetent than he already does. "You just gonna stand there and look at me?"

"Tempting," says Phil. He leans over and picks up the pile of clothes that Dan had discarded beside the bath mat. "But one of us needs to get this done."

"Oi, I said I'd do it."

The grin Phil sends his way makes Dan's knees feel a bit wobbly, like he's a teenager all over again. "I know. I didn't believe you."

Honestly, that's fair. Dan is better at putting things off than he is getting off his ass to do it right away. He pretends to be offended, anyway, because it's more fun than conceding defeat. "Excuse me? I'm a man of my word, Philip."

"I believe you'd do it eventually," says Phil. "But if I do it now, then you can be naked in my bed once you're done wasting all my hot water. See? I think ahead."

"Go away," Dan laughs.

"I'm doing a nice thing!" Phil protests, but he's laughing too. He lets his gaze drift over Dan's body again, unapologetic about checking him out in a way that makes Dan's heart beat a bit faster, and then he's gone. The door closes behind him, and Dan covers his face with both hands to hide his blush from the empty bathroom and Frank Ocean's crooning.

God, he's so far gone for this guy. It's genuinely fucking ridiculous.

He doesn't spend too much more time in the shower, because his boyfriend is waiting for him. And, fuck, that still feels so goddamn weird to think. Boyfriend. Dan has a boyfriend. It's actually surreal.

Dan dries himself off and wraps the towel around his hips, because Phil hasn't come back to give him pyjamas. He turns off his mystery playlist and pushes wet curls off his forehead before he leaves the fogged-up bathroom.

"He emerges," Phil jokes, barely looking up from his phone. "Clothes are in the dresser if you want to put them on."

"If I want to?" Dan repeats with a big grin. He likes looking at Phil's long legs spread over his colourful bedsheets, glasses perched on his nose and his hair sticking up a bit at the back. He looks comfortable and soft, and Dan truly considers throwing on something soft and curling up for another nap. Or sleep, at this point, if Phil lets him sleep through the night. But he's leaving so soon, he wants more than that. "Yeah. I don't really want to."

The way Phil's lips twitch make Dan feel certain that Phil didn't really want him to, either. He puts his phone aside and raises his eyebrows at Dan. "C'mere, then."

As tempting as it is to just collapse into Phil's lap right away, Dan is getting the hang of this 'sharing a small space with a dog' thing. He has to use treats and toys to lure Thor out of the room this time, gamely ignoring Phil's snickers at his attempts. Thor is so dubious at this point, not particularly enjoying being put away, but he eventually does follow Dan into the bathroom and curl up with his rope and a reproachful look at Dan. It's very distracting, but Dan manages to remember to grab a couple of condoms. The lube is still on one of the nightstands, on the side Dan has been trying pretty hard not to think of as his own.

"You know," Dan says as he hangs his towel on a hook, closes the bathroom door behind him. "When I get a place in London, it's going to have more than two rooms. So even if you do bring Thor over, we can shut a door without him getting mad at me."

"I think he'd get mad anyway," says Phil. He sounds distracted, looking Dan over again, and Dan preens a bit under the attention.

It's not that Dan doesn't know what he looks like. He's not going to win any awards for his face or body or whatever, but he's not exactly a bridge troll. He's seen himself on screen and heard enough people talk about him in complimentary ways that he knows, more or less, the way people tend to react when they look at him, but.

Just like everything else, it feels like so much more with Phil. Normally, Dan feels anywhere from gratified to indifferent by people finding him attractive, but when Phil looks at him like that, he just feels... wanted. In a really, really good way.

"Probably," Dan says, putting a hand on his hip. His pulse jumps at the way Phil's eyes track the movement, how they linger on Dan's dick. So what if he's getting a bit hard just from being looked at? Dan doesn't mind being watched by the right eyes, and Phil's are definitely the right eyes. He can't find it in himself to be embarrassed about it, not when Phil doesn't seem to find it funny in the slightest.

"Come here," Phil says again, more firmly.

Dan does as he's told, straddling Phil's thighs and grinning at him. He takes Phil's glasses off his face, puts them and the condoms on the nightstand for safekeeping. Phil blinks a bunch and grins back at him.

"You're wearing a lot of clothes," Dan notes, toying with the collar of Phil's shirt. He hasn't changed all day, and as much as Dan likes looking at him in this tacky print, he'd much prefer to see the pale skin and downy hair and shock of metal beneath it. "That's gonna be a problem."

"Oh, is it?" Phil teases, running his cool hands over Dan's thighs, his flank, his ass. It's like he can't decide where to settle them, not that Dan is complaining about the exploration.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I can fix it." Dan flicks the buttons of Phil's shirt open, pressing his lips to Phil's collarbone as soon as the bright fabric is out of the way. He feels Phil exhale as one of his hands tangles loosely in Dan's hair.

The texture of Phil's jeans feels weird against Dan's bare inner thighs. He leans forward a bit so less of his skin is touching denim before doing something he hasn't done since he was a literal teenager. He bites down rather gently on Phil's pale collarbone and soothes it with his tongue, giving Phil plenty of opportunity to protest before he goes in properly to leave a mark.

Dan finishes unbuttoning Phil's shirt while he sucks and nips at Phil's clavicle, and he lets his large hands map out the rest of Phil's torso while he darkens the bruise to his satisfaction.

Little sighs keep escaping Phil's lips as he runs his fingers through Dan's damp hair, and Dan is sure that he would have been tugged away by now if this wasn't good for Phil, too. Dan brushes his fingertips over Phil's ribs and bites down harder, just to see where the line is.

Phil's breath hitches. Otherwise, he doesn't really react.

"You're like a vampire," he comments, his voice low and dry and very, very attractive to Dan. "Do you bite all the boys?"

"Nah," Dan murmurs, nosing at the small, blossoming bruises. He likes the way they look, hopes that Phil will send him photos later with them on display. "Just you. Want you to think about me while I'm gone."

"Trust me," says Phil. "That was never going to be a problem. D'you like getting them, too, or do you just like giving them?"

What a perfect set up to a shitty joke. Dan's favourite. He grins wide and winks up at Phil, tweaking Phil's nipple ring as he does. "Oh, I'm versatile."

Even with his shirt pushed open, his cheeks pinked, his eyes dark and intense despite not being able to see much of anything, Phil manages to roll his eyes. "Yeah, alright. D'you want a hickey or not?"

"Yes, please," Dan says cheerfully. "Nowhere I might accidentally flash to a camera."

Phil hums and looks Dan over, thoughtful. Dan feels his dick twitch at the attention and resists the ridiculous urge to cover himself.

"Okay," says Phil, patting Dan's thighs decisively. "Lie down."

"Sounds good to me, my dude," says Dan. He laughs as he rolls off of Phil and onto his back, suddenly remembering something he'd said to Phil on what he now knows was their first date. "Never sit when you can lie down, am I right?"

"You are right," Phil says dryly. He shrugs off his shirt and lets it fall to the floor. "You are also very annoying."

"Is this because I dude-zoned you?"

Phil's lips twitch, and he smacks at the general direction of Dan's thigh. He misses, hits the mattress instead, and Dan can't hold back a snort. Phil's depth perception is shot without his glasses, and Dan is so endeared by his confused blinking.

"Where are you?" Phil murmurs, mostly to himself, and stretches his hand out to connect with Dan's hip. "Aha. There you are. Got you."

"I literally was not moving." This time, the slap does connect with Dan's thigh. He doesn't really mind, but he makes a big show of sulking about it anyway. "Ow, rude."

"As if that hurt," Phil says dismissively. He trails his hand over Dan's hip and lower stomach before he moves to settle between Dan's legs, as if he's using his palm to map out where he needs to be.

Okay, yeah, Dan can work with this. He wiggles to get more comfortable and arches a bit into Phil's touch.

This always makes Dan feel so vulnerable. He knows that Phil can't see him clearly, but that doesn't seem to matter to that sense of shame that Dan still hasn't managed to eradicate. Phil presses his lips to Dan's thigh and Dan spreads his legs wider in response, blushing furiously and thanking his lucky stars that Phil probably won't notice it.

Dan knows what he wants, and normally he'd have no trouble asking for it, but he's nervous. It's hard to focus completely on the wet suction of Phil's mouth on his inner thigh when all Dan can think about is how terrifying this is to him. He can't figure out the source of the anxiety at first, mind drifting down various paths the way it had in the shower, but he's jolted back into the present when the sharp edge of Phil's teeth press against his skin.

Suddenly, it's obvious. Of course this is nerve-wracking. Everything that he's felt with Phil has been more intense than anything he's felt before, from such simple things as holding hands to the feeling of Phil's cock in his mouth, and Dan already knows how much he likes being fucked. He's nervous about, like, blacking out or doing something else stupidly embarrassing like that.

Phil pulls back to look at the mark he's left on Dan's inner thigh as best as he can without perfect vision, and Dan tries his best to ignore whatever notions of shame and fear still try to make him feel like less for enjoying something like this.

"Hey," he says, reaching for the bottle of lube before he can lose his nerve. "While you're down there, might as well make yourself useful."

It takes a bit of squinting, but Phil snorts a laugh when he figures out what Dan is holding out to him. "I thought I was already being useful," Phil says, "but sure, whatever you say."

"Don't act like it's a hardship," Dan huffs. He shifts down a bit, getting his hips in a more comfortable position. He can see a red flush all over his chest, and he bets his face looks even worse. He needs to keep fighting back that embarrassment, that shame. That fear of it being so good he won't know how to act. He doesn't want to tell Phil everything, but he wants to somewhat explain himself in case Phil can tell he's acting weird. "Though, like, guess you should know that it's been a while."

"How long we talking?" Phil hums as he brushes his thumb over Dan's dick, teasing.

"Uh," says Dan. "Like, uni."

That makes Phil sit up a bit and furrow his brow in the general direction of Dan's face. "Dan, that's almost -"

"I know," Dan groans, covering his red face with both hands. "I know it's been almost ten fucking years, Phil, but I'm not going to fucking - break, or freak out, or whatever. I do fuck myself, okay, it's just been since uni that another person's done it for me."

"Okay," Phil says, his voice soft and soothing. He squeezes Dan's thighs and leans in to press a chaste kiss to the pudge of Dan's tummy.

"Okay?" Dan repeats, his heart beating way too fast to match Phil's serenity.

"Yeah, okay," says Phil. He smiles. "You say you're okay, I believe you. Just keep talking to me, okay? And you can change your mind whenever."

Dan swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. Fuck, he shouldn't be getting so emotional just because someone about to fuck him is treating him gently, but he might have more issues around this than he'd thought he did. He reaches down to tangle his fingers with Phil's, squeezing both of his hands.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk?" he teases.

His voice doesn't come out nearly as conversational as he wants it to, but Phil is kind enough not to draw attention to it. Instead, he just asks, "You want me to suck you off? Give you something else to focus on?"

"Are you that coordinated?" Dan asks, trying his best to get the light atmosphere back. He can't deal with the weight of emotion right this second, not when he's leaving so fucking soon. He's got enough emotions to deal with about that, he doesn't need to add more onto his plate. He isn't exactly 'good' with 'emotion'.

Thankfully, Phil laughs. He pinches Dan's thigh, close to where he'd left a bruise but not quite on it. "Hey, fuck you."

"That's what I'm saying," Dan laughs too, wiggling his hips. "Fuck me."

Phil still isn't looking directly at Dan's face, but his reassuring little grin still hits Dan as hard as it would have if they were staring into each other's eyes. He settles back down between Dan's spread legs and taps at Dan's thigh.

"Lift," he instructs, and Dan knows he's blushing even deeper as he hooks a leg over Phil's bare shoulder, making things a bit easier on both of them. God, but the vulnerability is so much worse like this. Dan likes being looked at by the right eyes, but the feeling of being on display like this makes him squirmy somewhere in his gut. Phil hums against Dan's thigh, presses soft kisses over it until the muscle relaxes. "Be easier if you put the condom on for me, yeah?"

All too happy to have something to focus on that isn't the feeling of Phil's fingers brushing over his balls, Dan does as he's told.

It's easier like this, it really is. Phil is working by touch more than sight, and that becomes doubly true when Dan's dick is in his mouth and he's got his pretty, unfocused eyes closed. Dan fights back the panic threatening to overtake him, because this is just Phil.

It's just Phil. And more than anyone else he's ever met, Dan thinks that he probably trusts this man the most. He tangles his fingers in Phil's soft bedding, breathing deeply and doing his best to relax when Phil goes ahead and rubs his fingers over Dan, presses a tiny bit inside him, makes a questioning sort of noise around Dan's cock.

"Yeah," Dan breathes, letting his own eyes fall closed so he can just think about how good this feels. "It's good, you can keep going."

And it is. It's really, really good. Dan already knows he likes this, knows that a finger inside him while a hot mouth is wrapped around his cock is one of the better things for him in bed, but Phil sure does turn this up to eleven, too.

Phil isn't even trying to get him off right now, is the thing. He's sucking Dan lazily, keeping his cock warm more than actually blowing him, and his finger - fingers, after a minute, and that slight stretch makes Dan bite back a truly mortifying noise - aren't seeking out Dan's prostate, but none of that makes this any less good for Dan.

He doesn't treat Dan like he's made of glass, and Dan appreciates that almost as much as he appreciates the steady thrum of pleasure coursing through him as Phil gets him ready. He had been a bit wary that admitting the length of time would make Phil gentle and nervous, as if Dan were a bloody virgin or something, but he should really stop projecting so many of his own anxieties on a man who is clearly more well-adjusted than Dan.

The only thing Phil does is slow down when Dan has been quiet for too long, make some prompting noises, pull off him to remind Dan to breathe with him. It's considerate in a way that doesn't make Dan feel embarrassed and smothered, and Dan could fucking kiss him for that. In fact, he will, as soon as Phil comes back into kissing distance. Dan could never articulate any of this to Phil, of course, but he can kiss him until he gets the general idea.

Dan babbles. Of course he does, he's been given explicit permission to do so. It's all a jumble of affirmations and curses, not exactly sensical, but he doesn't think Phil expects him to be talking in proper sentences right this second.

Eventually, though, Dan groans and reaches for Phil's hair, pulling him off. "Okay, okay, fuck. I'm good, need you now."

He opens his eyes and has to swallow another noise at how good Phil looks right now, all reddened mouth and darkened eyes. He surely can't see the way Dan is gawping at him, but the way he smirks makes Dan think that maybe he can sense it. "What exactly do you need?" Phil asks, playing dumb. Dan would kick him if he was physically able to.

"I'm going to kick you," Dan informs him.

"Wow, abuse of the boyfriend," says Phil. He nips at Dan's stomach and sits up with a little roll of his neck, stretching it. "I'm just asking for some clarity, Daniel, you already have me."

"You're terrible," says Dan. "This is terrible. If you don't have your dick inside me in the next ten seconds, you're sleeping on the sofa."

Phil's fake-innocent mask breaks as he giggles, tongue poking out from between his teeth. "This is my bed!" he protests.

Honestly, Dan doesn't care whose bed it is. This is a ridiculous argument to be having when Phil's got three of his fingers in Dan's ass.

"Ten," Dan threatens like he would with a small child, and Phil laughs even harder at him. Dan can feel giggles threatening to bubble up from his own chest, and he tries to hold back a very unsexy snort. "Shut up, oh my god, you're the absolute worst."

"I'm not the one whining about not getting my way," Phil points out.

"Hi, have we met? I'm Dan."

Phil rolls his eyes to the ceiling and shakes his head. The loss of his fingers makes Dan whine involuntarily, and he whines even louder when Phil stands up.

Thankfully, Phil only stays off the bed long enough to shuck his jeans and pants off. Dan reaches for him, wraps a hand around Phil's cock and revels in the soft, surprised 'oh' of a noise that falls from Phil's lips. He's hard and heavy and Dan has to know if that Prince Albert will do anything for him when Phil is inside him. He gives Phil a couple strokes and tears open another condom. Maybe if Dan were a less lazy person, he'd take his own off now that it isn't needed, but - hey, it's already there, clean-up's going to be a lot easier. Whatever.

He doesn't think he can stay on his back. He isn't entirely convinced that he won't get teary if this feels at all like this 'making love' thing people keep talking about, first of all, but Dan also has far more practical excuses for rolling onto his front. His thighs are starting to cramp up, and the other people who live in this building would surely appreciate Dan's loud mouth being pressed into a pillow. Dan has so many things he could say to Phil if he asks about the change of position, but Phil doesn't ask.

A cool palm runs over Dan's lower back and rests on his hip, squeezing. Dan sighs and buries his nose further into the pillowcase. It smells like Phil's fruity shampoo, and that's comforting. This isn't as scary now that Dan remembers exactly how at ease Phil puts him, has been able to since they met.

Phil working mostly by touch gives Dan enough warning that he doesn't quite gasp when he feels the head of Phil's cock pressing against him, but he does groan into Phil's pillow.

He definitely forgot to warn Phil about his volume control issues. It would be fairly redundant to do it now, Dan thinks, because the barely-muffled sound he makes when Phil starts to sink into him is already the loudest one he's made in Phil's presence.

Phil pauses, squeezing Dan's hip again. "Hey. Good or bad?"

Dan turns his face just enough to laugh breathlessly, stretching his arms out to hold onto the pillow. "Uh, fucking incredible."

"Yeah," Phil agrees, voice so low that Dan can practically feel it vibrating down his spine. He rolls his hips carefully and makes a choked-off laugh of a noise when Dan outright moans, only able to hide the tail end of it in the pillow. "Christ. You weren't kidding, yeah? You really like this?"

Eyes closed, practically suffocating himself, Dan does his best to nod.

He does. He really likes this.

The thing is, he still isn't really sure that he's able to vocalize that, at least not right this second. Dan rocks his hips back instead of trying to articulate some kind of response, heat sparking through him at the motion. God, but it really has been a long time since Dan has gotten fucked. Phil lets his hips snap forward to meet Dan's little thrusts, and, yeah. Fuck.

Dan was right. This feels so much better than any other cock he's ever had, and it isn't because the ball of Phil's piercing keeps nudging against Dan's prostate just right or because he's thick enough to stretch Dan just the way he likes - or, okay, it isn't solely because of those things. They do help.

It's just because this is Phil rocking into him, pressing kisses over his shoulders, making little breathy noises whenever Dan clenches around him.

Honestly, Dan had no idea that liking someone so much and trusting them with his body would make sex this much better. Sure, yeah, it makes logical sense or whatever, but it isn't something he could have ever guessed he'd get to experience.

He’s still overthinking when a particularly hard thrust has him rushing to the edge faster than he has in a long time, making his entire mind short-circuit.

"Oh," he moans, curling his hands into fists in Phil’s pillow and nodding into the fabric. "Oh, fuck, s-sorry, close -"

Phil's laugh turns into a groan, and Dan thinks that's the hottest thing he's ever heard. "The fuck are you sorry for, Dan?" He slides one of his hands around to play with Dan's cock, tight enough that Dan doesn't even fucking care about the latex barrier keeping him from the texture of Phil's palm. Phil presses more of his weight onto Dan, kisses the side of his neck, murmurs directly into his ear. "I want you to come."

Yeah. Okay. Dan might be a bit suggestible. He bites down on Phil’s pillow as his orgasm hits, embarrassingly quickly. Maybe he does black out for a second, because he feels heat through his entire body one moment and absolutely boneless the next.

Phil is still kissing over his feverish skin when Dan comes back to himself, and the feeling of him grinding slow into Dan is hovering right on the knife edge of too-much.

"Fuck," Dan gasps, turning his head so he can breathe again. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he isn't sure that his arms will ever not be jelly again. He feels Phil stop moving, probably planning to pull out, and he whines a bit. "No, s'okay. You can finish, baby."

If Dan were more present, he might care that he's called someone baby unironically. As it is, he just wiggles back into Phil and revels in the moan he gets in response.

"You sure?" Phil checks, voice trembling the tiniest bit. It's like he's holding himself back. He doesn't have to do that, not with Dan.

"Very sure," says Dan. He closes his eyes, lets the too-much turn back into a low level thrum of pleasure. He's not nineteen anymore, he definitely can't go again tonight, but it still feels good to be making Phil feel good. He hums and reaches a hand back to hold onto Phil's, both of them pressed against Dan's hip. He feels loose-limbed, happy, and he doesn't second guess himself at all when he adds, "I like the way it feels. You can keep going."

"God," Phil breathes. He gives Dan a couple of slow, careful thrusts, testing the waters, but when Dan only makes a contented noise in response, Phil starts really fucking him again.

Dan holds tight to Phil's hand and lets Phil use him for his own end, murmuring absolute nonsense to help him along. Just, "Yeah, that's it, doesn't it feel good, you feel good", that sort of thing.

Still, Phil does get there before Dan stops enjoying the oversensitive feeling. His rhythm falters a couple of times and his blunt nails dig into Dan's skin, hopefully leaving more physical reminders of the best sex Dan's ever had, before he's groaning something that sounds like Dan's name and coming. Dan whimpers at the feeling of Phil losing control inside him.

They're both panting and sweaty and have gross condoms to dispose of, but when Phil pulls out of him and pulls him into a cuddle, Dan feels more at peace than he thinks he ever has in his goddamn life.

"I don't want to leave," Dan whispers into the quiet, because he isn't sure if he's told Phil as much.

"I don't want you to leave," Phil says, pressing a kiss to Dan's damp curls. His arms feel so steady around Dan, not at all jelly like Dan's are. "But you'll be back when you can, right? And I go to Florida every year with my family, I can totally road trip to you."

With any luck, that won't be necessary. Dan is too fucked-out and sleepy to turn this into a Conversation, though, so he just makes an affirmative sort of noise and nuzzles into Phil's chest.

They can clean up in a minute.

--

"Sorry, sorry, I know I was almost late, but I promise I have a good reason for it -"

"You can't be almost late," Phil says, rather patiently for the time of morning it is in London. He looks tired, glasses on and hair an absolute mess, but he'd woken up just because Dan had asked him to. Dan can see Thor's nose, resting on Phil's thigh, and everything inside him wants to crawl through the screen to join them both.

Dan settles in the hotel bed with his phone, grinning at how cute they both look even through shitty FaceTime quality. "Still, I'm sorry. I know it's early."

"Yeah," Phil says, unable to stop himself from yawning. He gives Dan a sheepish little smile. "But I wanted to see you. How's L.A. going? Has anyone tried to lick you yet?"

"For the last time, you're the only person who has multiple stories of strangers trying to lick you," says Dan. He winks. "Not that I blame them."

The grin Phil gives him makes his stomach swoop. Dan wonders if it's ever going to stop doing that.

"Shut up," Phil says, fond. He shifts around on his sofa, getting comfortable, and Thor gives him a disappointed sort of look for the temporary displacement. "Sorry, buddy. But I'm serious, Dan, what's up? You've been stupidly vague."

"Yeah, I guess I have," says Dan. He lifts a shoulder in a lazy sort of shrug and puts his hand in front of his mouth to try and hide the ridiculously happy grin on his face. "I've been talking to producers all day, and it's been a fucking nightmare. Just got back to the hotel, I really did think I'd be back earlier than this and I could try to be early for once, but."

Phil blinks at him. "I thought you were on vacation."

"Don't you think I'd go to your place if I were on vacation?" Dan laughs. "No, I - I didn't want to get your hopes up. But like, here's the thing. I've got news."

Even Thor seems to perk up. Dan grins at his screen, wishes he could watch Phil's eyes go from their carefully guarded neutrality into something that's softer, more hopeful. Just for Dan.

"You've got news," Phil repeats. He bites his lip. "What kind of news?"

Dan had this whole plan to drag it out, make it all dramatic, but now that he's faced with the cautious optimism in Phil's face, he can't bring himself to do it. He laughs, rolls onto his side to get more comfortable. "Well, you can tell your mum I'm coming round for Christmas, for one."

[dearlazerbunny]

By Any Other Name; Ch. 13

Pairings: Kylo x Reader

Genre/Ratings: Highschool AU; M (eventually)

Words: 2700

Summary: Your new lab partner proves to be nothing short of an asshole- or is he? The more of Kylo that’s revealed, the more you can’t help but think you might be falling for him just a little…

Requested Tags: @foxface9000

Click HERE for Chapter 14.

The night of, you shoved your phone under your pillow and turned the ringer to the lowest possible volume, to guarantee you wouldn’t wake anyone in the house. It turns out you didn’t need it, however, because you were wired and wide awake the entire night. When midnight rolled around you were sitting on your bed, knees to your chest, grinning stupidly to yourself at the thought of holy shit, you were actually doing this. Strangely, you weren’t nervous. The thought of seeing Kylo uninterrupted for more than an hour was plenty motivation to get your ass out of the house.

Now, what does one wear to a clandestine meeting with a handsome guy in the middle of the woods at night?

You threw on some jeans, long sleeves, and a hoodie, but compensated by doing your makeup a bit and throwing on the sneakers he had doodled on what felt like a lifetime ago. You didn’t want him thinking you hadn’t tried, late as it may be- you had a reputation to uphold, after all.

Sneaking down the stairs was the easy part- you’d mastered the trek without a squeak long ago when you were younger for late-night ice cream runs. Funny how you escalated from sweets-stealing right to sneaking out. You would have giggled for fear of being caught. The garage was a little trickier. You ended up raising the door by hand to make less noise and actually pushing the car out to the street before starting it up. Paranoid? Maybe. But better safe than sorry.

The drive was smooth, with little cars out on the road, and you turned on the mixtape Kylo had made for you (somehow he had gotten your locker combination and left it in there as a surprise). Singing along, you opened the windows just a crack to let the wind play with your hair as you flew down the back roads, headlights illuminating an ever-thickening forest. There was a little gravel pull-off that marked the entrance to the bridge’s path, and your heart gave a little stutter when you realized there was a car already there. Cutting the engine let the nighttime swarm in, filling you with the sound of crickets and pale starlight, you once again let yourself revel in the fact that you were actually here. Away. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you grabbed a post it note and sharpie from your backpack in the backseat and scribbled a bunch of hearts and silly doodles on it, tucking it underneath Kylo’s windshield wiper before heading down the path. With luck, he wouldn’t notice it ‘til tomorrow.

Your sneakers cracked a few sticks on the way there, despite using your phone’s flashlight to see by. Eventually, you put the phone away and just ran, not caring if the mud got on the hem of your jeans or the gravel made crunching noises. Who else was out here to hear you? You slowed when you saw a black-silhouetted figure sitting on the railing of the bridge, feet dangling towards the slow-moving water beneath him. You smiled, taking in the view, before wandering up to meet him. The old boards of the bridge rattled and creaked as you crossed, and Kylo turned, hitting you with that megawatt grin that was brighter than the moon above the moment he saw you.

“All black, really? What happened to the prep princess? You look like you’re about to rob a bank,” he teased, pulling up the hood of your black jacket and shoving it over your head.

“Oh, I look like a bank robber? Hey, quit it!” You shoved off the hood with a laugh and ran a hand through your hair to fix the probably now frizzy loose ends. “I’m not the one with studs on my jeans and wearing fingerless gloves.”

“Eh.” He shrugs with a little half smile on his face. ‘You know you love it.”

“That I do.” You swung yourself over the edge of the railing to sit with him, Kylo steadying you when you overshot just a hair. You looked at him. He looked at you. Both of you had grins on your face that belied just how stupidly infatuated you were with the person sitting across from you. “Hi,” you whispered, face just a few inches from his. Close enough that you could see the stars flickering in his eyes.

“Hi back.” He nuzzles your nose with his own before putting his mouth to yours. You raised a hand and put it behind his neck, feeling his curls tickle your fingers, and you tugged a little on the strands, making him rumble deep down in his throat. God, you loved that sound. It went straight through you. “That’s not fair. If I kiss you any harder we’ll end up in the water.”

“Guess you’ll just have to deal then, lover boy.”

“Hm.” His nose crinkled and you laughed at his seemingly off-put expression. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“You know you love it.”

“Touche.” He grabs your hand and turns it over in between his palms a few times before lacing his fingers through your own. “Want to take a swim?”

“Kylo, at one in the morning? It’ll be freezing!”

“Aw, come on, what happened to little miss rebel over here? Sneaking out and defying her parents all to see her boyfriend from the other side of the tracks?” He peels off his socks ad shoes, tossing them behind him, before rolling up his jeans and hopping down from the ledge. You could hear the splash as he handed. “It’s not that cold, come on. I’ll catch you.”

You, however, were frozen in your seat. Boyfriend. He had called himself your boyfriend. I mean at this point, he basically was, but you’d never said it out loud before, even if you’d thought it a million times in your head- “do you mean that?”

He looks up from wiggling his toes in the water. “Mean what?”

“That- you’re my boyfriend.” The weird look on his face is enough to send you into spasms of giggles, and you grab the railing on either side to steady yourself. “Hey, I’m just asking! I don’t think we’ve ever-”

“-said that before?” He wades over to you -because of course the asshole is tall enough to reach the bridge from the water- and puts one hand on either side of your crossed legs, covering your hands with his own. “That’s a damn shame.” He smiles crookedly. “Because I’d hate to like you this much and not be able to call you my girlfriend.”

“Aw, Kylo-” you let your forehead thunk against his, just breathing him in. “Why are you so-”

“Sweet? Charming? Recklessly good looking?” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to look innocent. “Beats me, toots. I’m just working with what I was born with.”

You roll your eyes nut still have to grin, despite yourself. “Says the man who dyes his hair.” He sticks out his tongue at you, and you stick out yours back, reaching down to loosen the ties on your sneakers, then shucking them off. “Help me down, sir sweet and charming and recklessly handsome.”

You hold out your arms like a little kid waiting to be picked up by their mom and he obliges, lifting you down into the water cradle-style - but not before spinning you around a few times until you can hardly see straight. “You’re such an ass, Kylo!” You rub your eyes, trying to get your bearings. He sets you down and you can feel the water run over your ankles, algae between your toes. “I swear to god-” You take a step and immediately stumble.

“Whoa, hey there-” Hey slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer, much to your delight. “Don’t go breaking an ankle on me. Dr. Smith would never forgive me.”

“He’d kill you in your sleep,” you giggle, grabbing a fistful of Kylo’s similarly black sweatshirt to steady yourself with. “His wrath knows no bounds.”

“Don’t I know it.” His hand is tracing a slow circle on your back, and the shiver that runs through you has nothing to do with the cold water you’re standing in. “And- Ben.”

You pull away a little. “Say again?”

He ducks his head, like he’s embarrassed, but there’s a warm glow in his eyes. “You can call me Ben. Only- if you want to. Obviously.”

“Really? You’d let me?”

“Well, yeah. I trust you.”

Three simple little words, yet they had the power to make you a little weak in the knees. “Okay.” You pull him down to meet you, smiling against his lips as you kiss him. “Ben.”

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, just drinking each other in. Something about the dark made you a little bolder than you normally would be, and you kissed him like you never had before, all teeth and sharp edges and breathless want. He retaliated in kind, nipping your bottom lip and sliding his hands down your back until they were almost sinfully low. Eventually you had to pull away, out of breath and exhilarated. How far would you go, you wondered. He’s been your first, well, everything. How many firsts would you have with him?

“Hey, you okay?” Kylo- Ben- was looking at you concernedly, running a light hand over your cheek to brush away an invisible something or other. “Too much?”

“No.” You kissed him one more time, briefly, and encircled your arms around his waist. “Perfect. I’m just a little out of breath,” you admitted sheepishly, feeling your heart pump out of its chest like it did after a particularly satisfying solo run.

“Ah. I can fix that, you know.”

“Fix it? No offense, but you’re the one who caused it!”

“And why would I take offense at that?” He squeezes you into a too-tight hug before settling his hands on your hips. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that made you want to kiss him all over again.

“Really.”

“Really really. Since the moment I saw you, all I’ve ever wanted to do is this…” he leans in for another kiss and your eyes flutter close- only to get hit with a splash of cold water to the face. Your eyes pop open and your mouth drops- bad idea, now you can taste the water as well- and you get a lovely view of Kylo a few feet in front of you, laughing his head off at your now pissed off expression.

“Ben mutherfucking Solo!” His laughter echoes off the trees as you reach down for a palmful of water and hurl it back at him, hitting him square in the chest. “You are the absolute worst!”

He flicks you again, this time with his foot, soaking the right leg of your pants, and oh, it is so on right now. You step back and fling cupfuls of water at his face, aiming for that perfect hair of his, and he’s hitting right back- he can scoop up more water in those big hands of his- and all of a sudden it’s an all out water war, no holds barred and everything fair game. By the end of it the both of you were soaked, giggling your heads off, and a little loopy due to the late night.

“Okay, okay! Hey- stop! I surrender!” You squeal as one last drench of water comes down upon your head, and he swoops in for a kiss. It’s sloppy, with both of you laughing and off balance, but there in the middle of the stream, with rocks cutting into your feet, wet jeans chilling you to your core, and Kylo’s hands cupping your face, there was no where you’d rather be.

“God, now I’m freezing.” You pull your soaked jacket away from your body, trying to air it out. “And I bet my mascara is everywhere.”

“Here, c’mere.” He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away water and ink under your eye. “It’s cute, in a raccoon sorta way.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.” You giggle as his thumbs come away brown. “You know, your hair is cute when it’s wet.”

“Okay, yeah, laugh it up.” He shakes his head like a dog, spraying water everywhere. “That’s how you know I love you- I’m willing to mess up my hair for you.”

“I’m flattered,’ you tease, running a hand through those black locks almost reverently. He lets you, smiling a little as you do. “And-” you rest your head on his chest- “I love you too.”

“Well that’s good, otherwise this whole shindig would be a bit embarrassing.” But he pulls you in close, his head resting on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck and spreads a warm glow all the way down to your toes.

“Are those… fireflies?”

You turn to see flashes of light specking the trees behind you. ‘They’re huge, if they are. I wonder-”

And that was when the first beam of a flashlight hit you in the face.

“I’ve got them! They’re over here!” A gruff voice shouted and all at once the two of you were swarmed with people, on the bridge, at the sides of the creek, and a few even in the water trudging up from downstream.

“What the hell is-” Kylo pulled you closer, almost protectively, and you leaned into him, trying not to look scared. “What the hell is this?”

“I think they’re cops.”

“Cops?!” Your face went white. Oh, god, no no no, this could not be happening-

“Kylo Ren. Step away from the girl.” Kylo gently extracted himself from you, holding his hands up in the air like he was some criminal.

“No!” You grab his hand, pulling him back towards you. He squeezes it gratefully. “What the hell is going on? Somebody tell us!”

A single cop steps forward, and in the light of the flashlights reflecting off the water you can see shiny silver handcuffs dangling from his grasp. “Kylo Ren. You’re under arrest for kidnapping and endangerment of a minor. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law-”

“This is bullshit! Kylo didn’t kidnap me! He didn’t hurt me!” You turn to the cop who was still reciting rights. “You can’t arrest him! He hasn’t done anything!”

“Y/N Y/L/N? You’re going to need to come with us.” Someone starts pulling on the arm not attached to Kylo, and you wrench it away.

“Kylo. I don’t know what happened, I swear to god-”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He presses a kiss to the top of your forehead and then steps aside, releasing your hand. “Just go with them. It’ll be okay.”

Tears are streaming down your face as another cop leads you in the opposite direction, her hands firm as the manacles currently being wrapped around Kylo’s wrists. “Let go of me! I need to stay with him!” You struggle, but more cops surround you, and soon you’re marching through the woods, the stream all but a distant memory.

Police cars have taken over the small gravel parking lot in the beginning of the woods. Red and blue lights reflect off yours and Kylo’s car. You can see the little note you left him fluttering in the breeze- right before it’s picked up by a gloved cop and put into some clear plastic baggie.

“This is ridiculous. Kylo didn’t kidnap me. I snuck out! I went of my own free will. Please, somebody listen to me!” A towel is thrown around your shoulders, and you regretfully feel a little grateful. “This is a big mistake!”

“We’ve got them both. Heading back to the station now.” The female speaks into a walkie-talkie she pulled from her hip.

“Copy that.”

She bundles you into a police car, your pleas still falling on deaf ears, and shuts the door with a finality that scares you. Through the tinted window you can see Kylo being led out of the woods in handcuffs, making you want to scream and bang on the glass. Somehow you didn’t think that would earn you too many points. So you sat there, still crying, as he was put into a car and sped away.

A/N: Things are about to get interesting...