Warnings: ??none, just a couple of swears here and there i guess
Summary: In which he tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall, but to Phil Dan tastes like nothing at all. | a fic based on She by Dodie Clark (the short film)
Dan gazes at the way Phil’s eyes lights up when he finds something funny. They’re in a vacant spot at the bookstore and Phil’s holding a book called ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, reciting lines that are supposed to be sexual but it just sounds “pretentious” and “the author uses way too many metaphors for unarousing sex scenes”. (Phil’s words, not his.)
He supposes that maybe he should pay attention to what Phil is saying, but he’s paying more attention to the way the edges of Phil’s lips quirk up when he’s speaking and Dan really wants to kiss those lips so fucking badly.
Dan wonders if he’s even allowed by the rules of the universe to look at his best friend like that, but how could he resist when he’s just so pretty to look at.
“Hey. Hey, Dan. Are you even listening to me?” Dan is shaken out of his reverie by two pale hands flailing comically in front of his face. “Here I am using my vocal chords an my extensive theatrical ability to display how absolute shite this book’s sex is and you’re not even listening? I’m offended, Howell.” Phil says dramatically.
“Sorry.” He replies, smiling, but he still rolls his eyes at the other.
Phil waves a hand dismissively, “Whatever.” He closes the book, places it on the table and grabs Dan’s wrist, pulling him up by his hand. “Well, we might as well go. The bookstore clerk is looking at us like we attacked his squirrel.“
Dan laughs because that was such a Phil thing to say, and Phil’s slender fingers feel so cold but soft against his wrist, and he really likes it for some reason. Dan can feel himself slowly falling for Phil, and oh no no no no no, Dan would never tell. He would never say a word because Phil means everything to him and hiding what he feels would hurt less than losing him.
-
They’re at the corner of some store and Phil is holding some weird fruit drink that Dan finds weird. He’s making weird faces with his tongue and Phil’s laughing and shaking his head at him. He can see Phil leaning closer to him and he presses his lips against Dan.
Their lips are chapped and cold from the harsh winter wind and Phil tastes like apple juice and peach, which was probably from his weird fruit drink, but it tastes better on Phil’s lips than on the styrofoam cup.
A silence envelops them as Phil pulls away. Phil makes a face with his tongue and—poof—just like that, it was over. And to be honest, Dan doesn’t know what happened. It feels bittersweet and, oh, it aches, but it feels oddly good to hurt (if hurting was as bittersweet as one-sided kisses).
-
Phil makes a ‘hmmph’ sound as he nudges Dan’s chest with his head, muttering “Dan, what do i smell like?” over and over again.
“Like lemongrass and sleep."
"Sleep isn’t a scent, Danny."
"Well, if it was it would smell like you.” He flutters his eyes open. “What do i smell like?"
Phil weaves his arms tighter around him and buries his nose on Dan’s neck.
"Warm."
"Warm isn’t a scent either, Philly."
"Don’t care."
And Dan’s okay with this. He’s okay with admiring from afar, even if you can’t exactly call this "from afar”, with their bodies pressed together and their interlaced legs under the duvet an absolute mess. But it’s just—even when Phil is next to him, they couldn’t be more far apart.
-
They’re laughing at some quirky 90’s tv show on Phil’s battered old couch. Neither of them know why they’re laughing, but it’s 1 am and they’re probably high on sleep-deprivation.
The laughter dies down and now Phil’s looking at him with those striking blue eyes and—fuck—Phil’s lips are on his and it’s wet and kinda sloppy and Phil tastes like birthday cake. Dan starts trailing kisses on Phil’s neck and he’s surprised when Phil pushes him away.
“I think you should go home.” He whispers.
“Phil, it’s 1 am.” Dan says, confused.
“Please go home."
And there’s something about the desperation in Phil’s voice that makes him untangle his legs from Phil, pick up his coat and go out the door, and, well, he never could resist Phil anyway.
-
Dan stands in the cold with his teeth chattering and hands shivering despite it being inside his coat pockets. He’s not very surprised that Phil pushed him away, to be honest. Because Phil tastes like storytime and fall, but to Phil Dan tastes like nothing at all.
-
It’s whatever-the-fuck-it-is in the morning and Dan still hasn’t fallen asleep. He stays awake with a pillow pressed to his face, because he wants to suffocate himself or to get rid of the feeling of Phil’s lips against his, he really doesn’t know.
His phone on the bedside table beeps and a pop-up appears on the screen, "1 message from Phil Lester”.
(He probably shouldn’t pick it up, but he does anyway. Because he’s a fucking rebel, that’s why.)
From: Phil Lester
You know the thing that happened earlier?
(Dan gulps.)
To: Phil Lester
Yeah
From: Phil Lester
I don’t know how I feel about it
From: Phil Lester
Like I don’t know if I like it
To: Phil Lester
Oh. I mean we could always see what happens next time…..
Summary: Phil sneaks into Dan’s tent and they spend the night together at a daisy field.
Word Count: 1k something idk
Author’s Note: wtf is this even honestly this is nOT how i planned it to be but ugh at least it’s pretty decent righT ???
They’ve spent the whole day camping, and Dan was tired. So, so tired. PJ and Louise have called it a night, and have already receded into their tents. Dan crawls into his, wanting nothing more but to sleep and to rest his fucking ass off. He dozes off, his light snores filling his marquee.
-
At 1 or 2 am, Dan hears the sound of his tent being opened and the shuffling of feet as someone enters into his makeshift bed. He opens one eye, and he sees Phil stumbling inside. Dan smiles at his aloofness. Does he seriously think he could sleep through this? (And Dan is slightly disappointed. He sincerely thought Phil would remember this about him.) Dan decided to humour him, closing his eyes and feigning sleep. A few minutes pass and Dan wonder if Phil has left. He opens his eyes to see Phil staring at him, a small smile lingering on his lips.
“I know you’re awake, Dan.” Phil murmured softly. Dan groans, muttering a what-do-you-want with a pillow over his head. Phil rolls his eyes but he pries the pillow off of him, just like Dan expected. He leans in closer to Dan, his face hovering just inches from the other man’s, eyes lighting up as he excitedly suggests, “Wanna go on an adventure?”
-
Dan doesn’t know why the fuck he agreed to this. Honestly, he still wants to sleep. But there’s this aura to Phil that makes him more awake than ever, his veins rushing with this adrenaline and he doesn’t understand but it’s okay because he likes it anyway. (He likes it a lot, but he doesn’t say that. He almost never says anything, and most of the time that’s okay, but right now he just wants to tell Phil about how fucking beautiful he looks under the moonlight and why the fuck he doesn’t see that.)
He follows Phil in silence, smiling to himself as he watches Phil stumble on branches and trip on his own legs. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees Phil falling. Dan’s reflexes catch up and he reaches his arm out to catch Phil by the waist. Their eyes meet for a split-second, and the two men turn away with cheeks tinted but they both fail to notice out. (Maybe this is just another case of skinny love, with bystanders just hoping that they’d both wake up and notice just how in love they fucking look.)
“Do you even know where the fuck we’re going, Phil?” Dan whines. Phil glances at him, and he pouts for the effect. (Dan secretly hopes that Phil found it cute. And Phil’s not going to lie, he did.)
“Well it’s called ‘adventure’ for a reason, right?” He retorts.
Dan moans begrudgingly, but continues to follow him. He pushes a branch aside (Honestly, what the fuck was up with all the branches?) to see Phil running freely around a daisy field.
Dan looks around to see the daisies swaying and dancing along to the steady rhythm of the gentle breeze. He’s never seen something this innocent and pure before, and it admittedly astounds him how something so unadulterated in the garbage pile of this world.
“I’m flying, Jack!” Phil shouts, still running around the field with this gigantic smile on his face. (like a middle-schooler on the last day of school, Dan thinks) Dan laughs silently, but runs along with him, screaming at the top of his lungs.
They collapse on the ground, chests heaving and small giggles escaping from their smiling mouths.
“Apparently we’re grown-ups, huh?” Dan muses.
“Nah, we’re kids with grown-up powers.”
-
“It’s beautiful.” Phil hums.
“What is?” You are.
“The stars.” He answers.
“Don’t you mean ‘They’re beautiful’, then? Because it’s plural?” Dan teases.
“Shut up, you Grammar Nazi.” Phil pushes him playfully, and tells Dan to look up. Dan does, and he’s taken aback. He’s never really seen the stars like this before, never really has taken the time to either.
“They are, aren’t they?” Dan whispers wistfully.
“Hey, Dan. Do you see that star?” Phil points to a cluster of stars and Dan doesn’t really know which one he’s talking about, but he says yes anyway.
“It says you’re a nerd.”
Now it’s Dan’s turn to push Phil, but they’re both laughing and Dan feels as if everything seems right.
-
Dan’s pretty sure that their are probably awake right now and considerably confused as to why he and Phil aren’t there. Dan’s pretty sure that he doesn’t really give a shit either.
He pokes Phil’s cheek (that somehow ended up on Dan’s cheek, but he doesn’t mention that) with his finger in an attempt to wake him up. Phil’s eyes flutter open and Dan can’t even fucking apprehend how Phil could look this magical in the morning, wherein Dan literally looks like the Grinch with emo hair.
“We have to go back.” Dan coaxes Phil out of his sleep-dilled haze. He stands up and offers an arm for Phil, which he gladly takes. As they walk back to camp, Dan thinks of how he’ll miss this place. He’s only been here for one night, but it’s already found away to his heart. (Dan pushes the though that maybe it’s because it was a night that he spent with Phil.)
“We’ll be back here soon, right?” Phil queries sleepily.
“We will.” Dan assures him.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“Yeah.” Dan turns his head to look at Phil. “You are.”
Phil blushes, but he takes Dan’s hand and intertwines his fingers with his.
Pairing: Phan (danisnotonfire x AmazingPhil)
Genre: angst, songfic, break-up
Warnings: swearing
Words: 629
Summary: Phil called the shots for god’s sake, but now he regrets it. Now he wants Dan back, and Dan wants Phil back too. (It’s all so toxic and they’re such a fucking mess.) | song!fic/drabble based on Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy
I got those jet pack blues, just like Judy
The kind that make June feel like September
I’m the last one that you’ll ever remember
Phil sat there. He just sat. No sobs racked his body, no screaming, just…… nothing. He let the realisation just sink in painfully slowly. His mind screamed “No! No! No!” as his heart laid injured and broken. It was - fuck - he can’t even describe it. He called the shots, saying that he doesn’t want it anymore. That he’s done with everything.
So why the fuck is he regretting all of this?
And I’m trying to find my peace of mind behind these two white highway lines
When the city goes silent, the ringing in my ears gets violent
Dan walked and walked and walked. He just wants to get as far away from their flat - Phil’s flat - as possible. The city was eerily silent, and then did he realise that he was in the dark. A deep sinking feeling settles in his stomach and he remembers how Phil would hold his hand whenever he’s scared and how he tells him to look up at the night sky because stars would always calm him down. Small raindrops fall down and progress into harsh waves of rain and Dan lost it. He fell down on the pavement, curling in a fetus position as sadness overcome his body. And fuck it fuck it fuck it he wants to forget but all he can do is remember.
I’ve got those jet pack blues
Fight off the light tonight and just stay with me
Honey, don’t you leave
But bloody hell Phil couldn’t take it anymore. He took his phone out and called Dan because fuck it Phil needed that twat. He called and called and called hoping that Dan would just pick up the goddamned phone and Phil is about to throw his phone outside the window into the pouring rain. But Phil was oh so desperate and he just wants Dan to know so he attempts one more time. It rings and rings and rings and there are warm tears falling down from Phil’s cheek and it stopped ringing and there is a sliver of hope in Phil that maybe Dan actually picked his phone and it wasn’t just the fucking voicemail.
“Hello, It’s Dan.”
“D-dan,” Phil took a deep breath.“It’s Phil and I-”
“Please leave your message after the tone. Thank you. Please leave your message.”
And Phil is even more desperate than ever. The phone beeps and Phil starts talking.
“Dan, I’m so so sorry. Let’s just - let's just forget about it. Dan, I need you. Please, please, please just stay with me.”
He’s in a long black coat tonight, waiting for me in the downpour outside
He’s singing “Baby come home” in a melody of tears
While the rhythm of the rain keeps time
Now Dan is running. He runs and runs and runs as fast as he can back to Phil, back home. He sees Phil’s silhouette in a long black coat and Phil is running and Dan is running and they’re a fucking mess. Their lips collide and salty tears mix with the rain and their arms are tangled with each other and they don’t even fucking know if they should be sad or happy or angry but all they can feel is need and it’s so fucking toxic right now.
Did you ever love him? Do you know?
Or did you never want to be alone?
“I don’t ever want to be alone. You’re next to me in my life.” Phil says, snuggling closer to Dan under the duvet.
