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Summary: It’s Christmas, and Phil’s decided to make it a memorable one. Sure, the silly ‘box in a box in a box’ way of wrapping a present is funny enough to be remembered, but it’s the present that will really seal this Christmas in their memories.
Word Count: 792
Other Sites: AO3
A/N; i’m sorry that summary was kind of shit but trust me it’s good
ALSO I SAID IT WOULD BE UP AND IT’S UP AREN’T YOU ALL SO PROUD OF ME FOR KEEPING A PROMISE FOR ONCE
Phil woke to Dan shaking him.
“Phil! Phiill! Wake up!”
Phil gently swatted him away and rubbed his eyes.
“What?” he groaned, still a bit asleep. “No Good Morning Kiss?” he teased.
“That’s no time for kisses! It’s Christmas!”
Phil laughed at his boyfriend’s excitement. He was always almost like a child when it came to the holiday.
“Alright, alright. I’m up. Grab the camera and get it set up, I need to get something from my room quick,” he instructed.
Dan jumped off the bed and retrieved the camera from its tripod on his desk. He fiddled with the controls as he wandered to the lounge to wait for Phil.
Phil stayed in the bed until he saw Dan disappear from the hallway, then swiftly moved to “his” room, which really just functioned as a guest room and set for videos now, where he had stashed his biggest present for Dan. He wanted the moment to be special, and didn’t want the younger boy snooping through the presents and ruining this surprise.
A large box, neatly wrapped with an oh-so-cheesy bow tied at the top, sat in the closet, buried under a pile of clothes and knick-knacks to insure it would stay hidden.
The size of the box honestly wasn’t necessary. The present itself was small, but the size and shape would surely give it away. Not to mention, Phil just couldn’t resist doing the stereotypically cliché and honestly a bit annoying thing where you put a small box inside a bigger one and so on and so forth. He couldn’t wait to see Dan’s face when he’d open the smallest box.
He picked up the box and carried it out to the lounge to join Dan. Even though this would be the last present opened, he didn’t want to have to retrieve the box later.
“Hey, what’s that?” Dan asked, the camera pointed at Phil.
“Just a present.”
“Can I open it?”
“Not until the very end, baby.” Dan pouted. “It’s special!” promised Phil. “Now give me the camera and choose a present.”
Dan obeyed, reluctant at first, but soon got back into the Christmas spirit and excitement.
As the small pile of presents grew even smaller, the camera was passed between the pair, capturing each other’s reactions. They made sure the opening of their parents’ presents for them was caught on tape; they both knew their mums would kill them if their “professional video blogger” sons didn’t get them a recording of Christmas morning.
When the final present under the tree was unwrapped, Phil took the camera from Dan once more.
“Go ahead,” he gave Dan permission, “Open your special present.”
Dan tore off the paper to reveal a plain cardboard box. He opened the flaps and looked inside. Another box, this time slightly smaller, and wrapped in different paper than the first.
He looked up. “Really, Phil?”
Phil just grinned and giggled.
“Keep going!” he instructed.
Dan rolled his eyes and pulled the new box out, pushing the first away. He repeated the process to find... another box. He sighed. And did it again. And again. And again. And again. The only change in pace came when the next box had writing on it, and Phil told Dan to read it aloud.
“‘Six years ago...’” Another box. “‘...I told you I loved you for the first time.’” Another box. “‘Today...’” Another box. “‘...I want to do it again.” Another box, finally one close to the actual size of the gift.
“Daniel James Howell...” Phil said from behind the camera. He gave a nod to Dan, telling him silently to open the box.
Dan opened it slowly. He thought he knew where this was going, but wasn’t quite sure. His suspicions were confirmed when the small black velvet box was revealed. His heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat.
“Open it,” Phil whispered.
He did.
A stunning ring sat in the jewelry box. The black plated metal (of course, they had to keep with his monochrome aesthetic) contrasted nicely with the small cluster of nine tiny diamonds positioned in the center of the band, and stood out so beautifully on the pristine white interior of the small box. Dan began to cry tears of joy, his right hand covering his mouth.
“Will you marry me?”
Dan couldn’t quite speak yet, so he just nodded his head furiously.
When he found his voice, he managed to choke out a verbal reply.
“Yes! Yes, yes, a thousand times: yes!”
“I love you, Dan.”
“I love you too, Phil.”
The camera was dropped to the floor in favor of holding Dan in Phil’s arms and peppering kisses over the happiness-tear-stained and widely grinning face of his now-fiancé.
Grey - T - 1,745 - This black and white world with its black and white days is all Dan Howell has known. He resents it.
Read it on: AO3
Orange - K - 1,431 - Love isn’t always perfect. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s messy, sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it’s… orange.
Read it on: AO3
Summary: Love isn't always perfect. Sometimes it is, but sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's messy, sometimes it's hard. Sometimes it's... orange.
--
“Let’s go color the world together.”
Series: Colors - Part One
Word Count: 1431
Other Sites: AO3
--
"Let's go color the world together."
Phil grips Dan's hand and pulls him through the crowd, trying to find the exit.
Stumbling about in their slightly-intoxicated state, they manage to find a way out of – Well, neither of them really knew whose house it was – and call up a cab.
The time between the party and Phil's building passes in a blur. It feels like time is crawling along at a snail's pace, but going faster than physically possible. Every moment lasts forever, yet is done even before the blink of an eye.
Eventually – or, much faster than the trip should have been – the pair fall out of the car after Phil hands the driver some notes. Dan gazes in wonderment at the car as it speeds away.
"Blue?" he whispers, mystified.
"Blue," Phil affirms.
That night, they find out that sex is purple and the cuddling after is pink. Both of them think it's beautiful.
Except something's missing.
It's not noticed until a month into the relationship; both were too involved with each other and all the new colors to notice that one was missing, some things were still grey.
"Hey, is that bowl supposed to be grey?" Dan asks one morning when Phil hands him a bowl of cereal, a week after he officially moved in.
Phil furrows his brow at the ceramic dish. "I don't think so," he says. "But what are we missing out on? Why hasn't it shown up yet?"
Dan shovels a spoonful of the cereal into his mouth while he thinks. "Okay, blue and brown were first, and that was meeting each other. Then red from touching, and green from kissing. The hug was yellow, sex was purple, and spooning was pink. What are we missing?"
"Orange!" Phil blurts out. "Orange is still left."
"But what could orange be? We've gone on formal dates, so it's not that. What haven't we done?"
Phil just responds with "I don't know," and they leave it at that. It's not talked about again, but they still say "the orange bowl," even though neither can see that it is orange.
--
A year after that first night is the first fight.
It's something stupid, really. Dan knows that if he'd been able to form stable relationships before this he'd know how to deal with it. Phil trying to react rationally proves it. And yet, Dan's the one shouting over arbitrary nonsense and Phil's patience is the one wearing thin. Soon enough, they're both screaming at each other and neither can remember what started this. Was it that Phil forgot to clean the bathroom this week? Was it that Dan hasn't done the laundry yet? Either way, it had quickly turned into a shouting match, each yelling the other's flaws and failures at the other.
It's when Dan storms out, saying something about how he can't deal with Phil any more at the moment, that Phil leans against the kitchen counter, biting his lip and thinking, staring at the dirty dishes in the sink, and he realizes.
Orange.
The bowl is orange.
Fights are orange.
Anger is orange.
Sadness is orange.
Contact was red and yellow, love was green and pink. Lust was purple.
And anger, fighting, crying, that was orange.
Dan sees it too. The little flowers planted along the edge of the park across the street. The sign for the restaurant down the road.
He knows, without being told.
They're orange.
He wants to cry. He wants to scream out and dig up the flowers and tear down the sign. He never thought he would hate a color, if he ever did see one. Even with everything but orange, the world was so beautiful, so colorful. But not all color is good. Not all parts of a relationship, even the most perfect, when you know they're your soulmate, are good.
Dan hates it. He hates that feeling. Knowing that there'll be fights, that orange exists.
He bows his head as he walks, not wanting anyone to see his face. He lets a tear fall to the ground, splashing against the cold pavement.
Dan had never understood why the phrase "feeling blue" existed. He knew it was from the Color, when everyone had color, but no way of knowing their soulmates. Back when people speculated about worlds like the one they had now, where everything was black and white until you met your soulmate. And when scientists had found a way to modify humanity so these fantasies were possible, populations decided it was a sacrifice they were willing to make, and the world shifted to the Grey. But still, back in the Color, for whatever reason, people had decided that blue was sad. During Dan's time with the colors, as short as it has been in comparison to the rest of his life, blue was anything and everything but sad. It's appearance had been as happy as happy could be; it had signified finding true love. In the past year, it meant seeing his boyfriend's eyes, lying on their bedspread, his favorite shirt on Phil, even the sky that shows it's a wonderful day. It happy and beautiful and despite keeping his first color of brown as his favorite, blue would always be a close second.
But orange. Just looking at the color now makes him feel a bit sick. It feels wrong. It was angry, mad. It infuriated him. But it also embodied the sadness he couldn't help but feel being away from Phil. Knowing that the last thing he said to Phil was that he didn't want to deal with him, didn't want to see him.
He hugs the sweatshirt he had thrown on on his way out the door closer to his body, trying to envelop himself in the warmth, but the cold October air still bites at his face, turning the hot tears cold as they leave his eyes.
He looks up at the stores as he passes them. An orange pumpkin, carved with a stretched smile, stares back at him, in front of a Halloween display filled with the brightly colored gourds.
Dan turns around immediately, hating the color, and begins his return trip.
He spends the walk home looking down at the pavement again. The concrete showed him grey again, something he had grown to miss, especially by not looking at the hard pathway all that often.
But as much as he missed the color, he still hates it, nearly as much as he despises orange at the moment.
He hurries. He doesn't look up. He doesn't was to see orange. He doesn't want to see the color ever again.
Why orange? Of all the colors, why orange? Why such a bright color that's generally accepted as happy? Why something that's nearly everywhere? Yes, his world is in full color now, but at what price, really?
He fumbles with the key when he reaches the door to their apartment, and slams the door behind him when he finally gets it open and inside.
"Dan?" he hears Phil call out.
Dan takes a shuddery breath. "Yeah," he answers. He climbs the stairs up to the lounge where Phil is waiting on the sofa.
"You okay?"
Dan considers the question for a moment. He bites at his lip as it begins quivering, those simple two words bringing back the threat of tears once more.
"No."
The tears fall. They aren't blue, like the stereotypical sadness. They aren't orange, either, though. Tears are, and have always been, transparent. They are neutrals. And this time, they aren't sad. They aren't angry. They're just lonely tears, caused by Dan's thinking he might've been better off never meeting Phil.
Phil jumps up from his seat, and wraps his arms around Dan. His fingers stroke through Dan's hair, gently soothing the boy. His lips graze Dan's forehead as he whispers words of affirmation.
"I love you."
"It's okay."
"Calm down."
"This doesn't change anything."
"I love you, Dan."
Dan slowly stops shaking. Slowly, his grip on Phil's t-shirt is released. He takes a few shuddering breaths before responding.
"I love you, too, Phil. So, so much. Orange will never change that. I love you."
And everything's good. Not perfect. No, because love itself isn't perfect. There will always be fights. There will always be orange. But the orange doesn't stop the blue or the brown or the red or yellow or green or purple or whatever. There are still times when they want to describe love as perfect, because in that moment it is. And orange can never change that.
Because I Loved You - M - 1,458 - Being friends with benefits isn’t simple. It isn’t easy. It isn’t safe. But it’s fun. So they do it. And it’s fun. Until it isn’t.
Read it on: AO3
Because I Cared - M - 1,962 - It’s not fun. It hasn’t been fun for a year, now. It’s not simple, it’s not easy, it’s not safe. It was fun. But now it’s not. It’s nothing. There is absolutely nothing.
Read it on: AO3
Because I Love You - M - 1,058 - It’s not easy. It never was easy.
Read it on: AO3
Warnings: They read some smut, but pretty much all of the actual smutty parts aren’t included.
Summary: Dan won’t stop reading Phanfiction. Phil finally decides to question the obsession.
Word Count: 593
Other Sites: Wattpad, AO3
A/N: Nothing of what they’re reading is mine. It’s all from the story Snapchat Seduction by Rhianonymous on FF.net, or you can check out her tumblr at ink-stained-tea. (Go read the whole fic. It’s amazing)
Summary: What if Dan never met Phil? What if he never saw a single AmazingPhil video? What if there were never any Skype calls? No “HELLO INTERNET” video? No channel on YouTube with the name “danisnotonfire”? No “Phil Is Not On Fire”s? What if Dan had gone to University to study law, but never dropped out? Would they still meet? Would they still become friends? Would they become more than friends?
Word Count: 38
Chapter One, All Chapters
Other Sites: AO3, Wattpad
A/N: “I’ll be getting a new chapter out every day” AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA i’m sorry ok don’t kill me I’m a piece of shit at updating this and it’s so shit I hated this as I wrote it I don’t know why this is here it’s only for the ending.
I walk down the busy street, narrowly avoiding crashing into anyone. I look down at my watch for a moment, and someone bumps my shoulder.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” I shout behind me, hurrying on my way.
Summary: What if Dan never met Phil? What if he never saw a single AmazingPhil video? What if there were never any Skype calls? No “HELLO INTERNET” video? No channel on YouTube with the name “danisnotonfire”? No “Phil Is Not On Fire”s? What if Dan had gone to University to study law, but never dropped out? Would they still meet? Would they still become friends? Would they become more than friends?
Summary: What if Dan never met Phil? What if he never saw a single AmazingPhil video? What if there were never any Skype calls? No “HELLO INTERNET” video? No channel on YouTube with the name “danisnotonfire”? No “Phil Is Not On Fire”s? What if Dan had gone to University to study law, but never dropped out? Would they still meet? Would they still become friends? Would they become more than friends?
Word Count: 62
Chapter Two, All Chapters
Other Sites: AO3, Wattpad
A/N: I’M BACK, BITCHES. Still lazy and suck at updating, but a fuckton of stuff is in the works rn so expect a bunch of not only multi chaps that are old and shit but new stuff that’s actually kind of good!
tbh I kind of hate this thing and might take it down but I might continue it so it’s here now.
Also this thing has really short chapters sometimes sorry I’ll be getting a new chapter out every day until we’re caught up with where this is on AO3 and Wattpad
I walk down the busy street, narrowly avoiding crashing into anyone. I look down at my watch to check my time, and increase my speed. At the rate I’m walking, I’ll be late for my bus. Thank God I’m nearly to the stop, and I can see the bus approaching. I race to the stop, and hop on when the doors open.
Summary: This black and white world with its black and white days is all Dan Howell has known. He resents it.
Series: Colors - Part Two
Word Count: 1,745
Other Sites: AO3
A/N: This would have been up yesterday, but my computer is out getting repairs for the next three weeks, so I’m on a shitty old laptop that’s slow af for now, and I honestly hate using tumblr on it.
Anyway, there will be a sequel to this; it’s already in the works! (May or may not have a third part, might just combine the second and possible third into one.)
~~~
Grey. Dark grey. Light grey. Black. White. This black and white world with its black and white days is all Dan Howell has known. He resents it.
Ever since he had been told why the world was so boring and colorless, he had sworn to find them: his soulmate.
He's tried his best. He meets everyone he can, every time hoping, praying that this time, this time, he'll see the colors.
He never does.
He's tried to force it, even. He dated people. So many people. Too many to count. He just thinks that maybe, if they get to know each other, they can become soulmates. Even though he knows; it's not something that happens. It's something you're born with. You're destined to be with a certain person, and when you find them, your world becomes filled with color.
Except Dan Howell's world has always been in black and white. For eighteen years, he's lived in black and white.
He's starting to think it will always be like this. It doesn't help that not even his parents were soulmates.
He knows he should have realized it sooner. He should have been able to put two and two together. That they were married four months after his first birthday. That in response to his question of what the colors looked like, his mother said she didn't know. It was only two years ago that he realized, during the divorce. When his mother and father figured that maybe since Dan was older now, they didn't need to both be around anymore. So his father left.
That was when he stopped truly believing in love. Until two years have gone by and his mother goes on a blind date. And when she comes home she's in tears, so Dan thinks at first that it was just another failure. Just another life without love. So he comes out of his room to comfort her, but when she sees him she gasps.
“Mum?” he says, confusion painted onto his face. “Is everything alright?”
She smiles at him. “Your hair. It's brown.”
“Mum?” Dan repeats.
His mum just wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Everything's perfect, Daniel. Love is perfect.”
And Dan's pretty sure he might just believe love is possible again.
And brown, he's decided, is going to be his favorite color.
~~~
Phil Lester's, on the other hand, is blue. It's quite nice, having a favorite color you can see whenever, just by looking up at the sky. Except, he can't really see it anymore.
Phil Lester had found love, once, and she was wonderful. He loved her, and he loved the colors that came with her. The only problem was that three years into the relationship, she had been hit by a car.
One moment, and she's full of life. Her cheeks are rosy and her blonde curls are bouncing as she dashes out into the street. She turns around to look back at Phil, beckoning for him to follow with her lilac painted fingernails, on fingers with silver and gold rings with all kinds of colorful gemstones, attached to a hand with a tattoo of a red rose at the base of her thumb, with more colorful fabric and metal bracelets circling her wrist. One moment her pink glossy lips are turned up in a smile. One moment her face is lit up with a joy that matches the happy feel of her orange sundress. One moment, the road is clear.
Then, there's a green blur. And the blur hits her. It keeps going, but it isn't green anymore. It's a dark grey. And the girl in the road, lying face down on the grey cement. Her hair isn't blonde. Her nails aren't purple. Her jewelry isn't colorful. Her tattoo isn't red. Her dress isn't orange. It's all grey.
He dashes out into the road, dragging her body back. A dark smear remains on the street, the same color as the thick liquid flowing from a gash on her forehead and a scrape on her chin. The same color as the flower on her hand. What once was red to Phil, but is now just another shade of dark grey. He calls 999. But he knows what they'll say when they come. She's gone. There's no way to get her back. And they'll all try to console him, pat him on the back and say she's in a better place, now. But if wherever she is now is black and white once more for her because he isn't there beside her, how could it be any better than what they had together? At least she died with a smile on her face, and colors in her vision. Unlike Phil, who counted it a stroke of pure luck that he had found her. People didn't always find their soulmates. So many souls never knew color. What are the chances of him finding a second true love? He's just going to be yet another black and white death in this black and white world.
He'll never see blue again.
Just like Dan will never see brown.
Until they do.
~~~
It was honestly quite a chance they even met in the first place. It was a friend of PJ's who had thrown the party, but then PJ invited Dan and Chris, and Chris invited Phil. But even then it wasn't a guarantee that two uni students would meet at a party where everyone invited someone else. And anyway, it's not like they're going to be soulmates, right?
Except when they meet and start talking, Dan notices that Phil's eyebrows are different. Less... grey. And his skin... It's gaining something, something... colorful. And Phil will swear it's a trick of the light, or his imagination, or whatever, but that guy's shirt over there is not blue.
He doesn't get a chance to investigate further, though, as Dan excuses himself.
“Hey, I, uh, have to quick use the restroom. But, if you... If you want, I'll only be a minute, so you can, like, wait by the sofa over there, or something? If you, y'know, want to... continue the conversation and all that.”
Phil smiles and nods. “Yeah, go ahead. I'll just hang out.” Phil sighs in relief when he sees the other people gathered around the piece of furniture; no one he knows personally, but there is one girl in what looks like a dark blue dress. But it could easily be black, or still dark grey, especially in the dim lighting.
He approaches the girl timidly, and she giggles back when he says hello.
“Hey!” she shouts. “What's up?” Her voice is overly loud, and her words are slightly slurred, with short bursts of laughter mingled between them.
Oh, God, she's drunk, Phil thinks. At least she doesn't seem incapable of holding a conversation.
“Er, sorry, but, do you know if your dress is blue?” he asks, raising his voice over the pounding music.
The girl laughs again. “Nope! Never been so lucky. Is it? Do you see the colors?”
“I, um, I used to. I don't know if they're coming back.”
A wide grin breaks out on her face. “Oh! You must have met another soulmate! Congratulations!”
“Yeah... thanks...”
The girl wanders away, calling after some friend, and leaving Phil to lean against the wall, sipping whatever mix of drinks Chris had thrown together in the cup he handed Phil at the door.
Meanwhile, Dan stands before the mirror in the bathroom, staring at his face. His hair has color, his skin has color, even the walls around him are a soft, warm... whatever color this was. He splashes cold water on his face, trying to wake himself up as if this were some alcohol-induced dream. All he notices when he looks back at himself is that his eyes match his hair.
Hadn't his mother said something about his hair once? She had said it was... brown. He looked around himself again. Everything that wasn't greyscale could be described as different shades of the same color.
Shit, he thought. Phil can't be my soulmate, can he?
But no matter how much he'd deny it, he was seeing brown. And that could only mean one thing.
It’s not long after the girl in the blue dress is gone that Phil finds himself weaving through the crowd to get back to Dan, who he can see standing in the hallway searching for him.
“Hey!” Phil shouts, catching Dan’s attention. The boy waves, and Phil feels like he should do a double take: Dan’s hair isn’t... brown, is it?
Dan pushes through the throngs of people, passing by a girl with a strangely not-quite-grey dress. It wasn’t brown, though, was it? No. It didn’t share the earthy tones of the wooden floor beneath their feet.
The pair finally meet, close enough to the adjacent room that the light shining in is cast over Phil’s face, illuminating the pale skin that should be grey, but isn’t.
“Hey,” Phil starts out, “I was just wondering if you –”
“Holy shit! Your eyes!” Dan interrupts.
“You see it too?”
“Yeah, but –”
“Wait. I can see brown, too?”
“You know the colors?”
“Yeah, I... I had a girlfriend, once. She, uh, she died.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. But anyway, this,” he gestures to his eyes, “is blue. It was my favorite color. The first time it had been all at once. I was going to ask if you had met someone before?”
“Nope. Wait, you said it’s your favorite color? Did you see blue or brown first?”
“Blue. Why?”
“I saw brown, and then now that we’ve met again, it’s the other color for each of us.”
“Yeah, but why is that?”
“It’s... it’s stupid really, but my mum, when she met her soulmate, she came home and told me my hair was brown. I decided it was going to be my favorite color. Maybe it’s something like that?”
“Okay. Then how do we get the other colors?”
Dan set his hand on Phil’s arm, alarming the other slightly.
“You’re blushing,” Phil whispered.
“Is that what that... color on your cheeks is?”
“Red,” Phil tells him.
Phil pulls Dan in for a kiss. It’s quick, and they pull apart before anything can really happen, but it does the trick.
“Your shirt,” Dan observes. “It’s...”
Phil glances down. “Green.”
Dan wraps his arms around Phil in a hug, and suddenly there’s yellow.
A/N: Finally the end! I’m laying off the smut for a while; kinda feeling awkward writing it now… At least I did in this one. But anyway.
New soulmates AU coming soon! If you’re into that, watch out for Grey!
just wanna say the "Because" series is actually amazing. I don't ever usually reblog stuff but the story was seriously incredible, just thought you should know.
A/N: Finally the end! I'm laying off the smut for a while; kinda feeling awkward writing it now... At least I did in this one. But anyway.
New soulmates AU coming soon! If you're into that, watch out for Grey!
~~~
It's not easy. It never was easy.
It wasn't easy, when they first started out, and they didn't know what they were doing or how they were going to pull it off, but they knew why and that was good enough for both of them, so they did it.
It wasn't easy, when it all crashed down, and there was no touching or even talking, and they each had to keep their distance, just to keep the peace.
And it isn't easy, now, when they're silent in private, when they're away from prying eyes and intruding cameras, but outside, in public and at work and in videos and even around their own friends for fear of vlogging cameras, they have to play up their relationship and work to not let anything slip.
They have to keep their secrets, not only from the world, but even from each other. They keep their secrets, refusing to even acknowledge them, as if they are secrets from themselves as well. They keep them, even though they both know the secrets, of themself and the other. They know they have the same secret.
So it becomes a waiting game. Each waiting for the other to break, to confess.
If you were to ask Phil, it was Dan who cracked first.
~~~
He knocks on Phil's bedroom door, something he hasn't done in... forever, really. When they were... together, for lack of a better word, they pretty much shared both rooms. Even when they weren't sharing a bed, they were still open with each other. Doors were open and people were welcome to come and go as they pleased.
“Yeah?” Phil says. Yeah. Not Come in, all professional. It's not even snappy, like there's a hidden undertone of What the hell do you want?
It's... Soft. Friendly.
Dan pushes the door open. He doesn't step inside.
“I-I'm sorry,” he whispers.
Phil looks up at him and sees him fidgeting in the doorway, biting at his lip.
“I'm sorry,” Dan says again. Tears are threatening to fall. His voice shakes as he tries to hold them back. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything in the beginning. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I ruined everything by wanting you back. I'm sorry I still want you back. Because I love you. And I'm sorry for that.”
Phil rises and strides over to the doorway where Dan still stands. He embraces the younger boy, and mutters into his shoulder, “Oh, Dan.” And in those two words he says everything. I understand. I'm sorry, too. I love you, too.
He kisses Dan's neck. It's soft and gentle and he uses just the right amount of pressure with his teeth and tongue so that he sucks a nice red patch onto the tender skin. He moves up, peppering light kisses along his jawline, moving to press his lips to Dan's in a gentle kiss. They both lean into it, their eyes sliding shut. Dan lets out a small moan, and Phil takes advantage of the gap in Dan's lips, slipping his tongue into Dan's mouth. It's almost as if it's their first time again, slow and gentle. Except it's better, because this time they've done this before, this time they know everything about the other, this time they know the spots to give the most pleasure, they know where to bite and where to suck and where to kiss, they know all of each other's cues. And it's perfect.
When Dan starts to play with the hem of Phil's shirt, the elder's hand retreats from Dan's hair and swiftly removes both shirts. He pulls Dan closer, relishing in the returned feeling of skin-to-skin contact.
“God I love you,” Phil whispers into Dan's neck.
Slender fingers slide dark jeans down, letting the fabric hit the floor.
Phil's hands slide along the curve of Dan's ass, resting on the backs of his thighs. He pulls the legs up, and Dan wraps them around Phil's waist as he's carried to the bed.
Phil sets him down gently on the green and blue bedspread.
“Get your pants off,” he instructs, rummaging through the top drawer of his bedside table and retrieving the lube. He watches Dan shuffle to rid himself of the fabric, slowly sliding his own off as well.
“On your front,” Phil commands, tossing the small bottle of lube onto the bed.
Dan complies quickly, rolling over as he feels the bed shift with Phil's weight.
Phil kneels behind his – what, boyfriend? – and slowly licks a hot, wet stripe along his ass. He gently parts the cheeks and circles Dan's puckered hole with his tongue before slowly pressing in.
Dan lets out a low moan at the sensation, breathlessly begging for more.
Phil slides a finger in next to his tongue, thrusting them in unison, searching for Dan's prostate. When he hits it, another moan is released, and Phil adds a second finger to the mix, stretching the boy beneath him. Just as Dan starts getting into it, thrusting back and fucking himself on Phil's fingers and tongue, Phil pulls out.
Dan whines at the loss of contact.
“Turn over,” Phil tells him.
Dan watches as Phil spreads the lube over his hard cock. Phil lines himself up and slides in slowly, letting Dan adjust to the feeling.
“Keep... going...” he gasps, throwing his head back. Even given the countless times they've done this before in the past how many years, Dan still loves the feeling, loves the stretch.
Phil eagerly obeys the instruction, slowly beginning to thrust, but quickly increasing his pace.
Dan's eyes slide shut in pleasure, and it doesn't take long for either to climax, Dan's cum spilling across his chest as Phil's fills him up, the other man sliding out with care.
He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues and gingerly wiping Dan's body free of the rapidly cooling liquid.
Phil pulls the duvet from beneath Dan's body, and lies beside him in the bed, wrapping them both in the warm blanket.
Dan nestles into Phil's arms, the post-coital cuddling response almost automatic.
Phil lets his hand rest in Dan's hair, lightly stroking the strands. He presses a kiss to the back of Dan's head.
Summary: The war hit everyone hard. Enemies were made, as well as friends. Could a drunken encounter change everything for two Hogwarts students?
Word Count: 802
Other Sites: AO3, Wattpad, FF.net
A/N: Disclaimer: I have never been drunk nor have been around anyone drunk, due to the fact that I am thirteen, so excuse the fact that they probably don't sound drunk.
Inspired by the song from Shrek:
So yes I'd be a hero, and if my wish was granted
Life would be enchanted, or so the stories say.
Of course I'd be a hero, and I would scale a tower
And save a hot-house flower, and carry her away
But standing guard would be a beast, I'd somehow over whelm it,
I'd get the girl, I'd take my breath, and I'd remove my helmet.
We'd stand and stare, we'd speak of love, we'd feel the stars ascending
We'd share a kiss, I'd find my destiny
I'd have a hero's ending, a perfect happy ending.
That's how it would be
A big bright beautiful world
But not for me.
~~~
The war took its toll on everyone. And, in return, everyone had their own ways of dealing with it.
Hermione, for one, had found refuge in books. She'd rush to the library at every spare moment, hardly ever even turning up to meals or spending free periods in her common room with friends. And it wasn't in the, "I've got to research something" way she had always darted off during her school years. No, long gone were her days of non-fiction. Though she spent her childhood learning the true facts about the world around her, with the war over and done with, she now strayed toward the fiction side of the Hogwarts library. She found her escape in the fantasy worlds where, true to her own, the hero would triumph over the villain, but at least in those stories there were much fewer deaths along the way.
Draco took to drinking. He could often be seen late at night, wandering half-drunk through the corridors, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand. McGonagall had allowed him to, so long as he did not become a distraction to other students. The Headmistress understood the pain all who had fought in the war felt, and knew that this was how he coped.
Draco had been stumbling along the hallways when he ran into something quite solid, knocking both him and the something to the ground with a loud THUD.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, falling hard on his backside and spilling a few drops of his firewhiskey. "Sorry."
"Oh, it's no problem, really," the something responded.
He paused for a moment, taking a second to look at who he had crashed into. A bushy-haired girl was bent over a pile of scattered books, trying to collect them into one stack.
"Granger? What're you doing out here so late?"
"Couldn't sleep. Madam Pince gave me permission a while ago to take any books I wanted in the middle of the night, so long as I left a note telling her what I took."
Draco extended his bottle to her. "Fancy a drink?"
"Pardon, Malfoy?"
He shrugged. "It's always helped me to sleep."
Hermione considered the bottle, then looked up at Draco. He shrugged again. Just as he was drawing back the offering and about to take a swig for himself, Hermione reached out and quickly poured the remained of the liquid down her throat.
"Got any more?"
They ended up in the Room of Requirement, downing bottle after bottle as the Room only supplied more. A few drinks in, a sofa appeared, which the pair quickly took advantage of, as they were soon too drunk to stand properly.
They began asking each other questions, as if they were old friends getting to know the other better, when in fact, it was their first civil conversation they had ever had.
"Okay, okay, okay." Hermione took a deep breath to stop the fit of giggles that had been brought about by Draco's response to her latest answer. "My turn. If you could be anything, what would you be?"
"A hero." Draco responded without hesitation, not even taking a second to think about it.
"A hero?" Hermione repeated. "Out of everything - everything - and the great Draco Malfoy wants to be a hero?"
"See, I grew up with fairy tales. Y'know, the prince goes on a quest, slays the beast, rescues the princess, and gives her true love's kiss. I always wanted to be the prince in that story, but it turns out I'm the beast. I'm just the dragon guarding the princess's tower. I'm just a monster."
"You're not a monster, Draco. Everyone's a prince. You just haven't found your princess yet."
"I once thought I had found my princess. But I couldn't find the monster I had to slay to get her attention."
"Who was it?"
"She was brilliant. A genius. Cute, too. But she had her own prince, and I was just the dragon he had to slay to impress her. She was such a beauty, and I was just a beast."
Hermione scooted herself closer to Draco.
"Maybe I could be your princess," she whispered. "You've already saved me from the hell that is this stupid reality. All that's left is true love's kiss. Wanna find out if we're each other's?"
"Is that the liquor or Hermione talking?"
"It's me... I think..."
But now wasn't the time for thinking. It was the time for doing. Draco crashed his lips against hers. It was sloppy and drunken - everything a first kiss shouldn't be - but they both felt the spark.
Hermione pulled away. "So am I better than whoever you thought your princess was?"
"Actually... no."
"No?"
"Because you are who I thought my princess was. You're who I know my princess is. A prince. Your prince. That's who I'd be."
Summary: What if someone else had been Aurora's true love's kiss?
Word Count: 549
Other Sites: AO3, FF.net
~~~
"JUST KISS HER!" the tiny fairies shouted.
Prince Philip, alarmed by the fairies' aggressiveness, gently pressed his lips against Aurora's.
Maleficent watched from her place behind the screen. Yes... Perhaps Diaval was right. Perhaps there is such a thing as true love's kiss. The so-called "witch" began to believe that maybe this prince was Aurora's true love. The princess would awake and spend the rest of her life with her fairy godmother in the moors. Maleficent waited with bated breath for the girl who had somehow stolen her heart to wake. But she did not.
"No..." Maleficent whispered. She turned to Diaval. "I told you. There's no such thing as true love's kiss. It's just a lie."
"Maybe it just takes a while," the raven suggested. "The curse might not be broken instantaneously. We could wait just another minute. Maybe it worked." He, too, had grown fond of the girl. One might even say he loved her in a way. Just as Maleficent wished Aurora would wake, so did he.
"No. We're leaving. As soon as those idiotic fairies get out, we do, too."
The pair turned their attention back to Philip and the fairies.
"I'm sorry," the prince apologized, "but it seems that I'm not. I do hope that you find the real one. Now, I must speak with King Stefan. It is what I came here for." Philip meekly exited the room.
"I suppose we must see the king, too, and inform him that his daughter is still asleep," Knotgrass decided. The three fairies followed the prince out.
Maleficent stepped into the general area of the princess's bedroom. She took one last look at the only person she had ever truly loved before she would return to the moors. She cast her eyes downward and turned to the door, following suit of the prince and the fairies.
"Come, Diaval," she instructed when she reached the door. Her companion had not moved. "It's not use waiting any longer. We've stayed long enough." Maleficent stepped into the hall.
Diaval began to head straight out the room, but stopped halfway. A crazy idea had come to him. He stepped up to Aurora's bedside and gazed down at the sleeping girl.
Maleficent turned back to look at him. "Diaval, what is taking so –" She stopped mid-sentence and watched as Diaval slowly leaned down until his face was inches away from the princess's.
The kiss was quick. A simple peck on her lips. Nothing like Philip's prolonged, lengthy kiss. He pulled away within a second. But it was long enough. Aurora's eyes flickered open. She glanced around the room, her eyes landing on Maleficent.
"Fairy godmother!" she shouted.
A grin spread across Maleficent's face. "Beastie."
"But.. who...?"
"Who woke you?" Aurora nodded. "You can thank Diaval for that."
Aurora quickly spun her head around to face Diaval. The raven extended his hand to help her up.
"Thank you," she said, taking his hand.
"So, will you be coming back with us?" he asked.
Aurora looked between the two people who had been the best family she had ever had.
"Of course!" She suddenly wrapped her arms around Diaval, who reacted first with surprise, but then with compassion, returning the hug.
