for the anon asking for the masturbating in a history class fic, i think it's actually extracurricular activities, not cock in the classroom! atlaregay(.)livejournal(.)com/12418(.)html
Yes. I thought that was wrong, too. But since I don’t read Jalex fics, I didn’t look into it further. But I believe you’re right.
omg someone should write a fic where a boy's insecure about his skin??? like maybe he has acne or eczema, etc. and always tries hiding it and/or has no luck with dermatologists and medicines and just?? aw sad but then ofc there's the other boy just like "hey skin is skin idc what urs looks like I still think you cute af" and... yeah. I really love insecurity/comfort fics but I've only ever seen them about weight.... so get on this, please? thx.
Summary: Dan and Phil have know each other for a year and a half, or rather, Phil is Dan’s favourite customer at the out-of-the-way café he’s worked in for a year and a half. Maybe a power cut will change everything.
Author’s note: I’ve had a lot of fun writing this and hope that you all enjoy it. Also, I have been into a coffee shop about twice in my life so I am very much not an expert in that field, oops.
-
Another Tuesday evening; the air is brimming with the overwhelming scent of coffee, the sound of couples talking over cups of steaming liquid and the tap of fingertips against worn out keys. The whirring of the hot chocolate machine starts up again and Dan already knows who he will see come up to the till next.
He doesn’t particularly like the smell of coffee; to him it is just something to help him through his eight am classes, and he doesn’t particularly like having to plaster on a smile for costumers after a long day when he’d much rather be sleeping.
This particular costumer is different though. He slides his tray along the metal stripes elegantly and Dan tries to stop his heart from speeding up. As soon as he catches a glimpse of the dark wave of hair and sky blue eyes, he lets himself show his real smile.
“Hot choco-”
Dan has pressed the relevant buttons before the man has finished speaking. “Would it be anything else?” He asks the question with the smile still spread widely across his face and makes himself relax his expression slightly. Normally he has the problem of not smiling enough in front of costumers, but with this one it is the opposite way round.
“You know me too well,” the man returns with a smile and hands over the money. The sleeves of his pale shirt are rolled up so they are past his elbows and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. Dan starts to wonder about what else is under his shirt, but stops himself before he can get carried away. The click of the till shutting pulls him back to reality.
“Had a nice day then, Phil?” It is very rare that Dan uses the man’s name when serving him and by the look on his face, Phil is surprised as well. “Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t call you that.” Dan looks down and the ground, a blush spreading through his cheeks. He tries to concentrate on his worn black shoes, but he can only think about how he just overstepped a line. He knows that someone like Phil, with his books and fancy clothes, would never look twice at a student like him.
“No, no!” Phil’s voice raises up a octave, but he still manages to keep the volume constant. “Feel free to call me Phil.”
Dan looks up into Phil’s eyes and sees the kindness radiating from them. “Really?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Of course!” A small smile illustrates itself on Phil’s features. “How long have we known each other now? A year and half?”
“Around that long,” Dan says, letting the smile return.
*
Dan was ready to go home, or to collapse on the floor so he would be let home early. He hadn’t imagined that university would be such hard work, but then again, he had chosen law, so he knew that he only had himself to blame.
He tried to let the smell of coffee wash through him, to let the caffeine do its magic, but with none of the substance actually in him, he knew it wasn’t going to work. He considered making himself one, but the manger was already fed up with him enough this week, even though he was still on his first shift on the rota.
Dan cast his gaze outside, to where he could make out the outlines of half covered trees and see pumpkins lining the street. His new friends were out at some Halloween party, yet he had chosen to work instead; the creases on his battered shirt and small hole on the sole of his left shoe was a sure sign that he was in desperate need of the money.
“Excuse me.” The voice snapped Dan back inside the shop. In front of him stood a man with black hair cut into a similar style to Dan’s own with sparkling blue eyes and a grey suit jacket over his shoulders. “It’s a hot chocolate.” The man smiled at Dan in sympathy. He didn’t look particularly sculpted, but his features held a boyish charm and his shirt seemed to fit his slender torso perfectly.
“Sure.” Just looking at the man had made Dan feel more awake and he tapped in the order with firm precision. “That’s two pounds fifty, please.”
The man got out his wallet and gave Dan over the exact change; if he thought he had liked that man before, he certainly liked him a lot more after that.
They stood there, in a comfortable silence, until Claire, the barista, walked over with the man’s order. He took it in both hands, not having taken a one of the beaten black trays, and said, “Have a nice evening,” to Dan.
“The same to you,” Dan replied. His eyes didn’t leave the man until he left just before Dan’s shift ended.
*
At that moment, Claire walks over with his drink and Dan sighs internally. He never gets to speak to Phil for more than a few minutes a week and once that time is up he looks back with regret for what he hasn’t said.
“Have a nice evening,” Phil says as his goodbye and strolls over to his usual sofa. It is in the back corner of the shop, tucked into a corner with a small reading light on a dark wooden table next to it. Dan watches as he gets a book out of his bag that he has already placed on the arm of the sofa so to the save the place. The Book Thief. Dan makes a mental note to pick up the book next time he needs some textbooks.
A few more costumers come in to be served and Dan treats them all with the respect that they would expect, but never as nicely as he does Phil.
When he hears the clap of thunder, he lets out a sigh. Claire raises her eyebrows at him from a few metres away. They both know that it means they will get an influx of people wanting to come in to escape the downpour.
The first few come drifting in with the soggy coats and dripping umbrellas, all happy to be in out of the rain and leaving a thin trail of water over the wooden floor. Thunder rumbles again and many of the already present patrons come up to get refills.
A flash off lightning seems to come out of nowhere and they plunge into sudden darkness. There are a few shouts on confusion from the customers and the shop looks eerie in the glow of the streetlights outside.
Mark, the guy in charge of security, comes out of his cramped office and walks over to Claire, whispering something in her ear. She nods solemnly and casts a look over to Dan before addressing everyone present.
“Please try and stay calm.” Her voice carries a level of authority. “The storm has just cut off the power. Unfortunately the doors are controlled by an electromagnetic lock so they are sealed shut.” A woman lets out a small screech, but Claire speaks over her. “It is nothing to worry about. As soon as the power comes back on we will be able to open the doors again.”
“How long could that take?” A man who looks to be in his mid-forties asks the question. In the limited light Dan can see the creases on his forehead.
“No more than a few hours.”
*
Dan used to keep a tally of the times that he talked to the man. He came in once a week, on a Tuesday, to grab a hot chocolate and then he would go to his favourite sofa, rest his right ankle on top of his left knee so that his plain black sock saw the light of day and read, taking occasional sips from his steaming hot chocolate. Dan didn’t know of any other customer that had such a routine. Of course, they had the regulars that came in almost every day, but even they wouldn’t order the same drink every time they came in, sit in the same spot and be entrancing the same boy.
It was the 37th time that Dan saw the man when he finally learnt his name. The July heat was pressing down on the café and while most of his friends had gone home for the summer, Dan had decided to stay in the city that he had grown to love. He had a small studio flat that was an equal distance from most of his lecture theatres and his place of work, but had only been walking to one of them over his summer break. He had hoped that the extra shifts he was taking on would mean that he would see the man more often, but no matter what shift Dan was on, he only ever saw him on a Tuesday night.
When he approached the counter, Dan was almost ready to give up and go home early, no matter what punishment he would receive for it the next time his manager saw him. He knew that it was his own fault for staying up until six in the morning, but not having classes had meant his grip on time was slowly slipping.
“Hot chocolate and a muffin,” the man said, sounding almost as tired as Dan felt, while nodding at the chocolate muffin on his tray. He had two delicate lines under each of his pale blue eyes and his shoulders seemed to sag.
“That’ll be three twenty,” Dan said, his voice lighter than it had been a few moments before, but he couldn’t hide from the man how tired he was.
As the man handed over the exact change he said, “I thought that this was supposed to be your summer break. Wouldn’t that mean that you’d be more awake?”
Dan let out a small laugh. “You would think that, but I didn’t earn the nickname Five for nothing.” He smiled, remembering when his fellow dorm dwellers had given him the nickname. When the man only looked at him with confusion, he explained. “A lot of the people in my dorm would get up at five for their early classes and I’d still be up from the night before. It kind of just stuck.”
The man nodded. “I shared a house with Stinky, Gorilla and Nipples, so I get you. Unfortunately I was just Phil. I guess I was just too normally to have a nickname.”
Phil. To Dan, the name fit perfectly. He couldn’t understand why he would want to be called anything else. Phil. It felt like a secret, something that shouldn’t be said unless he was saying it.
“Nicknames are overrated,” he replied with a smile. “I much prefer being called Dan, though I guess that’s a nickname as well.”
*
It has been an hour since the café fell into darkness and from what Dan can see, there is still no sign that the electricity will be back up soon. Claire has found some candles in the storage cupboard, so now on every occupied table there are candles of various shapes and sizes, throwing a dimmed light over the open space.
Dan stands behind the counter, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the cold granite. He knows that there is no point in him standing there as he can’t even work the till, let alone give anyone their drinks.
Claire lifts the hatch and comes to stand next to him. “I think everyone is calm now, though slightly pissed.” She lets out a deep sigh. “I knew that those doors were too fancy. What’s wrong with good old-fashion simplicity?”
Dan shakes his head at her. “No use crying over spilt milk.” He repeats the phrase that his mother used to say to him with ease.
“True,” Claire replies, then pauses. “Mark says that we’ve probably got a little while longer.”
A comfortable silence falls between them that can only come after having worked with each other for so long. Usually the whirring coffee machine fills the space, but now there is only the gentle mumbling of the people that are scattered across various chairs and tables.
Dan tilts his head so that he can look over at Phil again. He has almost finished his book and is leaning so close to the candle that Dan is worried he might go up in flames. In the limited light, Dan still thinks that he looks beautiful. The shadows that fall across his face would make any other person look like they had stepped out of a horror film, but it suits him like the moon suits the night sky.
“When are you going to stop staring and actually go over and speak to him?” Claire interrupts the silence and Dan shoots his head around so his is looking back at Claire. He is thankful that the darkness can hide his blush.
“I’m … I wasn’t staring,” he mutters. “I was … I was just making sure that everyone was alright.”
“Dan.” Claire raises her eyebrows. “It has been obvious to me and to everyone else in here that you liked him ever since you first saw him. It’s like you physically light up whenever you’re in the same room as him and do you honestly think that he’d be coming in here for any other reason but to see you?”
The blush spreads itself further across Dan’s cheeks. He turns so that his gaze once again rests on Phil. “I … I don’t think…”
“Nothing will ever happen if you don’t make it happen,” she says with complete confidence. “And it’s becoming painful to watch you two not be together.”
Dan is just about to look away from Phil and turn back to Claire when he sees the older man’s face lift up. Their eyes meet and they both turn away sharply, realising what they were doing. “Did we just…?” Dan can’t bring himself to finish the question.
Claire nods. “Yes, now go!” She doesn’t shout the words, but Dan can feel the enthusiasm behind them.
He raises the hatch slowly, being careful not to make too much noise and draw attention to himself. He walks round the front of the counter, which Claire is still standing behind and makes his way over to the old leather sofa in the back corner.
Phil has set his book down and is looking up at him. “Hi,” Dan begins. He realises that he doesn’t know what to say now the moment has come. He feels like he has been waiting for an opportunity like this for far too long, but he is speechless.
“Hi,” Phil says. “Do you want to sit down?” He moves up to one side of the sofa, leaving room for Dan to join him.
*
When September came, Dan begged to be kept on Tuesday nights. He had spent his last week of the holidays away, allowing himself an actual break before he had to go back into his old university, friends and work routine.
Phil didn’t come up to the counter with his usual flare. His eyes were red rimmed and his skin was paler than Dan had ever seen it before. Before reminding Dan of his never changing order, he let out a small sniffle.
“Were you ill last week?” Phil asked. His voice sounded red raw and it pained Dan to hear a sound that seemed to demonstrate so much agony.
“No, I was away. Though it sure looks like you are now” Dan looked Phil up and down with a worried expression. “Shouldn’t you be home resting or something?” Dan’s voice was filled with concern for the man that, if he was honest, he barely knew.
“If only I could.” Phil tried to smile, but his chapped lips stopped him before he could get to showing his teeth. “My team is presenting to the board of directors next week and it needs to be finished before Thursday afternoon so that it can be reviewed.”
“I’m sure that the presentation will go great.” Dan attempted being chirpy and Phil looked up at him with kindness.
“Thank you.”
After he had his hot chocolate and had made his way over to the worn sofa, Dan kept more of an eye on him that usual. He looked up from his book a lot more than normal and the sips he took from his cup seemed to take more effort.
When it got to an hour before closing and he hadn’t left, Dan decided to take action. He dug around in Claire’s locker until he found a lemsip pouch. He made it up in the back room, as if he were making it up for himself, but instead took it out the front and marched round to Phil’s sofa with a purpose.
He held it out in both hands and waited while Phil slowly removed his gaze from his book and up to the plain white mug in Dan’s hands. “It’s lemsip,” Dan explained. “You obviously need it, so here you go.”
Phil took the cup gently from Dan and took a long sip before setting it down on the table. “Thank you, really. How much do I-”
“On the house,” Dan said with a small smile. “It’s not even on the board so I wouldn’t know what to charge you anyway.”
Just as he turned to walk away, Phil called out, “I’ll find a way to repay you!”
The next week when he strolled up to the counter, he asked Dan a question that he wasn’t prepared for. “What’s your favourite muffin flavour?”
“I take it that the presentation went well,” Dan said with a smile as he typed in Phil’s hot chocolate order.
“It did, thanks to you. Without that drink, I don’t think I’d have been in the right mind to even finish making it. Now, stop avoiding the question.” He raised his eyebrows slightly and gave Dan a lopsided grin.
“Umm … I think I would have to say blueberry.” He smiled back without even thinking about it; Phil’s personality was contagious.
“Right then. I’ll have a hot chocolate and you’ll have a blueberry muffin on me.”
*
“And then Rob died and I was almost in tears! It took everything I had not to break down, right here. I don’t know how he could do that to me, doesn’t he care about my feelings?” The corners of Phil’s mouth are pulled back, exposing his glistening teeth and wide smile in the candlelight.
Dan lets himself laugh. “You don’t even know George R. R. Martin! How could he possibly know that you don’t want him to kill off Rob?”
Phil shrugs and lets the smile spread wider. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out because at that moment the lights come back on.
Around the café, various people move towards the exit, but Claire gets there before them. She throws one door wide to the dimly lit, but now rainless street, and hands small vouchers to everyone as they leave.
Dan looks over at Phil, who is checking his watch. “It’s gone eleven.” He lets out a small sigh. “I should probably go. You know, work and all that.”
“Yeah,” Dan replies, disheartened. “I’m probably needed to help tidy up and stuff as well.”
He turns, but Phil stands and grabs hold of his arm. “Wait.” Dan manoeuvres himself so he is facing Phil again. He holds out a piece of paper with swirling and elegant numbers written on it. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you for months, but I, well, I could never bring myself to do it.”
Dan takes the paper and stares at the digits on it. “I-”
“I’ll see you next week then,” Phil says as he picks up his bag and heads towards the exit. “Or before then, you know, if you want.”
Phil leaves slowly, as if he doesn’t want the moment to end. Once he is gone, Dan folds up the piece of paper and puts it in his left pocket as he strolls in between the tables, picking up various empty cups and teapots.
“Finally,” Claire calls out to him with a smile spreading across her face. “I couldn’t keep that power cut fiasco up forever.”
Dan stops and stares at her in disbelief, before smiling back at her, too happy to care about what she’s done.
okay but what's the plural of hickey. bc hickies looks kinda weird but so does hickeys and i could just say "love bites" but. hmm. thx ummmm asking for a friend.. .. . ... ....
I used to use hickeys but it felt wrong, so I went with hickies and I like that better, personally. :')
there needs to be a fic where dan keeps calling phil a spaceman and makes a bunch of similar jokes bc of phil's new shiny space jacket?? and then phil gets really self-conscious and feels dumb for keeping it bc he was debating on returning it from the start, so he maybe throws it away or sells it online. but dan feels really very bad for making him get rid of it so he goes on a super quest to get it from the person phil sold it to or find the same one in another store. v cute and fluffy oh man
