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Title: The Happiest Place on Earth
Summary: Phil Lester hates his job playing Prince Charming at Disneyland, until another British boy shows up and unexpectedly charms him instead
Word Count: 4.6k
Rating: Mature
Tags: Disneyland, Flirting, Strangers to Lovers, Semi-Public Sex, Hand Jobs
Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by the @phanfichallenge’s Disney Challenge. Thanks a million to @ivy625fanfic and @jorzuela for their general wonderfulness, assistance, and encouragement!
Also on AO3
The Happiest Place on Earth
Phil pulled off his white NASA t-shirt and black skinny jeans (with the stylish rips that had of course made the jeans ironically more expensive) and began to don the costume that he had rapidly come to despise. He was a fan of colorful clothing, but even he recognized the cheesiness of the bright red polyester pants, and the ridiculously thick white polyester coat always made him sweat like a pig in the Californian summer heat.
God, he missed England! He missed the rain, and the green grass, and the snow in the wintertime. Here, the only greenery was carefully manicured topiary. But he couldn’t control where his father found work, and so he’d relocated with the rest of his family to this godforsaken suburban desert called Anaheim.
Sure, he could have stayed in England on his own, but when not only his mum and dad but also Martyn had all planned the move here together, he hadn’t wanted to be left behind without the three people he was closest to in the entire world. They’d always been a tight-knit family, and he would have missed them terribly.
But he was beginning to think that moving back to England on his own might be the only answer, as working this wretched job at Disneyland had come to seem like a fate worse than death. But he hadn’t been able to find any other work with his degree in English Language and Linguistics. The other Californians he’d met outside of work had joked that his university education had prepared him very well for a career articulately asking, “Would you like fries with that?” Ha bloody ha.
Playing Prince Charming every day might drive him insane, but at least it paid better than McDonald’s. Marginally.
Phil donned the military-style coat with its ridiculously fiddly golden closures and high, scratchy collar, and adjusted the fringed epaulettes on his shoulders, then also the snug belt at his waist. Last, always last, he tugged on the pristine white gloves he was required to wear at all times. Yes, he had to wear not only a thick coat but also gloves in the 33ºC heat. This job sometimes felt death-defying, as if earning his meager wages might actually result in him expiring from heat stroke at any moment.
With his naturally sunny disposition, he had thought that playing a Disney character to amuse children all day would come naturally and even make him happy. But it hadn’t turned out quite as he expected, and his sunny disposition was growing cloudier and cloudier under the bright California sun as he toiled endlessly in this costume so ridiculously unsuited to the local weather.
He slathered his face with sunscreen, since no other skin on his body would be exposed to the sun, before he combed and shellacked his hair into the required unmovable quiff, and then practiced a bright smile as he gazed into the dressing room mirror.
Well, thus started another shift at the happiest fucking place on earth.
***
As he escorted Julie (a.k.a. Cinderella) down Main Street, they maintained their constant smiles and stopped to chat with any park guests who showed an interest. They also, of course, posed for about a thousand photos per hour.
“Oh, you’re even faking a British accent!” a woman in plaid shorts and a striped tank top cooed at him after taking several photos of him with her children as they pelted him with questions about what it was like to be a prince and were he and Cinderella married and where did they live and did they have any kids and a million other questions Phil had to answer a hundred times every day, always making sure to stay in character.
That was the most important part of his job, as the management had stressed over and over during his hiring process and continued to stress nearly every day. He must always stay in character, must always be Prince Charming. Even when one of the overly entitled children kicked him in the shin, he had to laugh it off and tousle the boy’s hair with a faked fondness that potentially put him in danger of getting his hand bitten.
Luckily, the annoying costume gloves would have protected him from whatever rabies the brat might be carrying.
“Your accent doesn’t sound quite right, but it’s good enough to fool the kids, and that’s what matters at Disneyland, right?” The woman grinned at him, showing red lipstick smeared across her front teeth. She made no attempt to control the four children apparently in her care as they ran about and climbed on anything they could get near.
Phil smiled at her, trying not to grind his teeth audibly, and said, “Children certainly are a blessing and a joy, yours especially. It’s been so wonderful to talk with all of you,” and then he took Julie by the gloved hand to guide her away.
“One more picture!” the woman yelled after them, so he and Julie turned, and she looped her arm gracefully through his as they’d been forced to practice a thousand times, and they posed with those bright fake smiles as the tourist snapped a few more photos with her phone before they were released to stroll again down the boulevard full of families sweating in their summer clothing, sure that none of them ever spared a thought for the costumed park employees in their much less comfortable attire.
He thanked his lucky stars that at least he didn’t have to wear one of the non-human costumes, like the fellow who played Mickey Mouse. That guy was always a disgusting, sweat-drenched mess at the end of his shift, but at least he didn’t have to actually talk to the park guests like Phil and Julie did.
It must be much easier to stay in character when you didn’t have to smile or talk.
Suddenly, out of the constant babble around him, Phil noticed an English accent, then another. A family stood nearby, and they were clearly from one of the southern counties. Berkshire, maybe? The voice he had first noticed seemed to belong to an utterly beautiful boy near Phil’s own age, and he couldn’t help but stare a moment until Julie patted his arm to remind him to keep playing his character role.
Always stay in character. Always be Prince Charming. He smiled brightly at the beautiful boy, who raised an eyebrow.
And then suddenly the boy walked away from what Phil could only assume was his family and approached Phil and Julie. “This guy’s a philanderer, you know,” he told Julie, jerking his thumb at Phil. “He’s got loads of other girls on the side. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel … and who knows how many other hapless women who subscribe to the ridiculous gender roles that require them to passively wait to be rescued by a man instead of proactively getting themselves out of their own stupid predicaments.”
Great. A heckler. They didn’t appear often, but when they did … joy. This one was surprisingly—and intriguingly—articulate, but still … a heckler. Phil forced the smile to stay on his face, nodded politely to the beautiful pain in his ass, and began to lead Julie away. The heckler grinned at him, showing deep dimples that only made him more lovely, and Phil contained a groan of dismay at the bolt of intense desire that shot through him.
“He’s also the villain of the story,” Beautiful Heckler continued loudly as they started to turn away. “Anyone who’s watched the Shrek movies knows that.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Phil bestowed upon the little asshole his most gracious smile, “my princess and I must continue to visit with our many guests.”
The heckler’s brown eyes went wide as he heard Phil’s voice. “You’re English!” he exclaimed in obvious shock. Phil only nodded, his hands embarrassingly sweaty in those terrible gloves, and tried to extricate himself and Julie from this potentially out-of-character conversation.
“Indeed, I am. It’s been lovely to meet you, but we should continue on our way. Please do enjoy your stay in our magical kingdom.” Julie’s hand tightened on his arm, signaling him to speed up their escape. It wasn’t his job to stand talking to a twentyish twink with gorgeous dimples when there were hundreds of small children and lipstick-smeared mothers waiting to meet their favorite Disney characters come to life.
But Heckler Boy put his hand on Phil’s other arm and asked, “Where are you from? And why are you working at Disneyland, of all places?” He was shaking his head in disbelief, shiny brown curls bouncing slightly.
“I’m from a kingdom far away,” Phil replied in character, ignoring Julie’s increasingly tight squeeze on his arm. “But I journeyed far to find my true love.” He turned to smile at Julie, and she smiled at him with her mouth but glared at him with her eyes.
Phil gave in and nodded his best aloof Prince Charming nod at the beautiful heckler, who was now staring at him in apparent fascination, making Phil want to do nothing but stay there and stare at him in return. But he wasn’t Phil right now, and he couldn’t flirt with anyone but Julie, and he couldn’t be visibly gay—though, honestly, what Prince Charming didn’t seem at least a little gay? So he just patted the boy’s hand on his coat sleeve, wishing that there wasn’t a layer of polyester glove preventing their skin from touching, even just for that brief moment, and then he and Julie continued on with their stroll, only to be stopped almost immediately by a family with two small children who wanted to pose for photos.
Smiling for the tourist’s camera, Phil dared a quick glance in the direction where he’d left the beautiful British boy and saw him still watching Phil, which made him blush a bit. Blushing in this costume was extremely unpleasant, as it only made him even warmer than he already was, but he couldn’t help it when such an attractive guy was watching him like that.
After the family had taken their photos, Phil took Julie by the hand again, tucked her arm through his, and escorted her further into the park.
He didn’t look back toward the boy again.
***
Phil groaned with pleasure as he pulled off the hated gloves at the end of his shift, divesting himself of the rest of the horrible costume as quickly as possible. The entire thing was soaked with sweat. It was lucky the park supplied him with a clean costume each day, because he could never have kept up with the laundry himself.
In another stroke of luck, the “backstage” area had showers, so Phil cleaned up with a thorough soap and shampoo, running the water cool enough to give himself goosebumps, but glad of the temperature change after an entire day of roasting in the sun and polyester.
Donning his own clothes again and giving his black hair a quick combing, he snuck out through the backstage entrance instead of the employee exit he was supposed to use. Character-role employees were forbidden to re-enter the park in their street clothes, lest a guest recognize them, spoiling the oh-so-important illusion. Phil couldn’t have said what inspired him to break the rules today when he never had before, but if he’d been forced to guess, he probably could have intuited that it had something to do with a certain heckler with irresistible dimples.
In a park filled with thousands of people, he was extremely unlikely to even see the guy again, let alone have a conversation with him … but only 10 minutes or so after he left the employee area, he saw him. Phil wondered if maybe the guy wouldn’t recognize him now that he was out of costume, but when their eyes met, the boy immediately grinned and said something to his family before turning and walking toward Phil.
He looked Phil up and down, and his first words to him were, “I like the ripped jeans a lot more than the prince outfit. You look hot in a very different way.”
Phil had no idea what to say to that. He’d sort of secretly hoped to see the guy again, but he’d had absolutely no expectation of the guy actually hitting on him.
“Um,” Phil stammered, “I’m not … I’m not really supposed to talk to guests … when I’m out of costume.” He was blushing again, and he cursed his fair skin for giving him away.
The guy leaned close and said quietly, “What if we go somewhere where people won’t see us?” He smirked.
Phil looked around, then walked toward one of the buildings that housed supplies, then ducked behind it so that he and the boy—who had eagerly followed him—were hidden between the wall and the nearby foliage. With the sun going down and the park beginning to get a little dark, there was very little chance anyone would see them here. But he could still see the beautiful boy in the dimming light.
“I’m Dan,” his beautiful heckler said, and then he leaned in to kiss Phil, just like that.
“Whoa!” exclaimed Phil, pulling away slightly. “I mean … what are you…”
Dan raised his eyebrow again, just as he had when their eyes first met hours ago and he asked smugly, “You don’t want to?” And Phil found himself numbly shaking his head.
“No,” Phil rasped out, his voice exhausted after a day of greeting strangers, then laughed a little. “I mean yes.” And then he smiled his first real, honest smile of the day, and Dan kissed him again, this time with a much more enthusiastic response from Phil.
Phil didn’t even know how long they’d been kissing when he felt Dan’s hands slide underneath the back of his t-shirt, stroking the bare skin of his spine. Phil gasped, and his head fell back slightly at the incredible unexpected pleasure.
“I can get away tonight if you want to … you know … meet up and … do something. Together,” Dan suggested awkwardly, kissing the notch at the base of Phil’s throat and then flicking his tongue out against the sensitive skin there to make Phil moan.
Phil lowered his head to look into Dan’s eyes. “I don’t even know who you are,” Phil protested. “Why are you in California? How long are you here? Are you a student, or do you have a job, or…”
Dan asked wryly, “You don’t really care about any of that, do you? Really?”
But Phil shook his head, then nodded, confused. “No. Yes. I do. I don’t just … do this.”
Dan raised that damned eyebrow again. “You don’t? Because, you know, you could. You could pull almost anybody you wanted. You’re fucking gorgeous, you know. Even better out of that ridiculous costume.” He ran his hands through Phil’s damp, freshly showered hair. “And I like your hair better like this. It looked like plastic before, but it’s actually really soft.” Then he stroked his hands through Phil’s hair to the back of his head and reeled him in for another kiss. He pulled away slightly and whispered, “My family’s here on holiday.” Then he kissed Phil again before breathing against his lips, “I’m on my gap year.” Another kiss, longer this time, his tongue stroking against Phil’s in a maddening caress before he slowly pulled away to kiss the side of Phil’s neck and murmur against it, “And we’re in town for another week. During which time I really really hope I’ll see a lot more of you.” He pulled away to look Phil up and down before blatantly licking his lips. “And I do mean that in every sense.”
Phil leaned back against the wall of the outbuilding, breathing heavily. “Jesus. Do you do this on every vacation? Everywhere you go? Just find some stranger and pull him into a corner and suggest…” He shook his head slightly, not sure how to finish that sentence. Because what exactly was Dan suggesting? Quite a bit, if Phil wasn’t mistaken.
Dan sighed and leaned away slightly. “Do we really have to have this conversation? Because … no. No, I’ve actually never just dragged someone off into the bushes like this before, but I feel like … I don’t know. Both of us being from England, and meeting here, and the way you looked at me, and the shivers I got…”
Phil interrupted him. “You got shivers?”
“Didn’t you?” Dan asked, and for the first time he sounded a little uncertain.
“Yeah,” Phil admitted with a slow grin, finally feeling a little more confident. “But I thought it was just me.”
“It wasn’t just you,” Dan replied. “It was like … an electric shock. Like fate or something, meeting you here. I feel like I’ve known you forever, almost from the first moment our eyes met. I can’t explain it.” He breathed out a sort of frustrated sigh. “Are you really going to make me say all this sappy stuff, or can we just kiss some more, and maybe make plans to meet up later?” He swallowed, then looked at Dan with those warm brown eyes, and they looked happy, which made Phil happy, too. “Because I’d really like to meet up later,” Dan whispered, like it was a secret, then leaned forward to kiss Phil again.
They kissed for a long while, Dan pressing up against Phil, pressing him up against the wall so that Phil could feel that Dan was just as hard as he was. “Won’t your family be looking for you?” Phil gasped, reluctantly pulling his lips away from Dan’s.
“I told them I’d meet them at the front gate after the fireworks,” Dan purred. “There will be fireworks, won’t there?” And he slid his hand down to stroke the front of Phil’s jeans, making Phil groan.
“Yes,” Phil gasped, and he didn’t know if he was answering Dan’s question or responding to Dan’s wayward hand. He reached down to press Dan’s hand against his cock through his jeans … and noticed that Dan’s fingers were shaking. Perhaps the boy wasn’t as confident as he seemed? Maybe they should put this all off. Dan had suggested meeting up later, which would give him time to decide if he really wanted this.
Phil spun their bodies around so that Dan was against the wall, with Phil the one leaning forward to press them together. He ground against Dan once, then once again, and Dan’s body arched against him with obvious pleasure. “There’ll be fireworks if you want them. I promise. But not here,” Phil said firmly. Then he frowned. “I mean, there will be fireworks here. There are fireworks here every night during the summer. But not these kinds of fireworks.” And he ground his hips against Dan’s again, and Dan was the one gasping now. Phil wrapped a hand around each of Dan’s wrists, then pinned them against the wall on either side of his head. He thrust against Dan again and they both groaned. “Because for these kinds of fireworks, I’d rather have you naked.” He waited to see how Dan would react.
Dan opened his eyes to look at Phil, and the pupils of his brown eyes were hugely dilated, though Phil wasn’t sure if it was in response to him or to the growing darkness. Dan’s body leaned limp against the wall, as if he’d collapsed, as if he’d completely submitted to Phil. He’d started out as the aggressor, but now he just gazed at Phil in willing, helpless abandon. Phil leaned in to kiss him again, licking his tongue into Dan’s mouth until the beautiful boy was groaning again, his body tight as a bow, pressing as close to Phil as he could get. Both his hands grasped at Phil’s back as if he were absolutely desperate. “Please?” he begged, pressing himself as tightly against Phil as possible.
“Oh, fuck it,” Phil ground out, and he let go of Dan’s wrists so he could reach down to unzip Dan’s jeans, slipping his hand inside to feel him hot and hard through his underwear with its rather obvious damp spot. Dan had been leaking pre-come while they were making out. The evidence only made Phil harder. “I can get you naked next time.”
Dan’s hand reached between them, fumbling to get Phil’s jeans open with eager hands.
“I’ve never done this before,” Phil laughed as they rubbed at each other there in the hidden corner where anyone could happen upon them.
“With a guy, or outside, or at work?” Dan asked, breathing heavily. He squeezed Phil’s cock briefly through the denim and Phil closed his eyes with pleasure.
“Oh, I’ve definitely done it with a guy,” Phil chuckled, “but never outside, and definitely not at work. But somebody tempted me too much for me to resist.” He leaned in to press their mouths together again and felt the eagerness in Dan’s returning kiss. He slipped his hand into Dan’s underwear and Dan cried out at the first touch of skin on skin. Phil quickly placed his other hand over Dan’s mouth, whispering, “Shhh. We don’t want anyone hearing us and coming back here to see what’s going on.” Dan nodded, and Phil took his hand away from the boy’s mouth. As he pulled his hand away, Dan licked his palm with a saucy grin.
He grasped Dan’s cock and pushed his underwear out of the way with his other hand. Meanwhile, Dan was still struggling to get Phil’s jeans open. Suddenly, Phil wondered if Dan had ever done this before. “How about you?” he asked, then stroked Dan’s cock lightly, not wanting this to be over too quickly. “Have you done this before?”
“Of course,” Dan replied, finally getting Phil’s jeans open and slipping a hand in to rub him through his underwear. Phil’s hips bucked toward the touch, but he’d heard the obvious nervous lie in Dan’s words, and this all of a sudden got even hotter. Not only was he exchanging hand jobs with a stranger at work, but it was the boy’s first time with another guy.
“I don’t believe you,” Phil whispered against Dan’s lips. “I think I’m the first guy you’ve been with, even though you’re…” his words cut off in a moan as Dan’s hand slipped into his underwear and grasped him in a tight grip. “Even though you’re doing fantastic.” Phil bit his own lip in pleasure, then leaned forward to nibble at Dan’s arching neck, giving it a flick of his tongue in apology and wondering if he would leave a mark. He liked the idea of Dan returning to his family with Phil’s mark on him, even if it might not be the best idea. He decided to try to be more careful.
Dan was panting now, thrusting into Phil’s hand as he squeezed and stroked Phil’s cock with an obviously inexpert touch, unaccustomed to this angle. “Okay,” Dan admitted on a moan. “Yeah, I haven’t done this with a guy before.” He leaned forward for another passionate kiss before adding, “But you just … the way you looked at me … and then in those ripped jeans … like I said … shivers.” And Phil felt Dan’s body shiver again, just at the memory. But a moment later he realized it had been a different kind of shudder as Dan’s cock pulsed and he began to come. Ironically, the first boom of fireworks above them happened at nearly the same time, and Phil saw Dan’s ecstatic face illuminated by blue lights falling above them.
“Faster,” Phil urged as Dan’s hand slowed during his own release. Obligingly, Dan sped up his strokes and soon Phil too was coming, his orgasm spurred by the knowledge that they could be caught at any moment, combined with awareness that Dan had never done this before and Phil was his first.
As their breathing slowed, fireworks continued to explode above them, occasionally illuminating their faces with a variety of different colors as they stared at each other. Phil hadn’t hoped for anything more than maybe a glimpse of the dimpled heckler, and he now guessed that Dan had probably hoped for nothing more than perhaps a quick make-out session. They both gazed at each other in wonder, chests still heaving.
“I saw fireworks. How about you?” Dan laughed breathlessly, his smart mouth finally making a reappearance. He was grinning, and his dimples were shadows in the light of the sparkles falling high above their heads.
“Definitely fireworks,” Phil replied and kissed that smart mouth. “And shivers.”
“And shivers,” Dan agreed on a quiet breath.
They lingered, kissing more softly now, their bodies leaning together as if they were holding each other up. Phil noticed Dan holding his hand away from his body and laughed. “My shirt is white. Nobody will notice before I get it home and wash it.” Dan didn’t seem to understand what Phil meant until Phil grabbed his hand and wiped the come off both of their hands onto his NASA t-shirt.
Dan laughed softly. “God, I hope we didn’t get my jeans. What’ll my parents think?” Phil guessed that he was probably blushing, though the hues of the fireworks hid any natural color of Dan’s skin.
“Probably nothing even nearly as good as the truth,” Phil joked.
He stroked his hand down Dan’s body again, making the boy twitch, but Phil merely slipped his hand into Dan’s jeans pocket to pry out the boy’s phone and type in his number. “Call me. Then we’ll see about more of those fireworks.” He grinned at Dan. “Like I said … they’re every night during the summer.” He kissed Dan softly again as he slid the phone back into Dan’s pocket.
Dan gazed at him with eyes deep and filled with stars. “What name should I look for in my phone?”
Phil frowned, confused. “What?”
“Did you just put your name as Prince Charming, or do your friends call you something a little less pretentious?”
Phil laughed and said, “Oh my god. I can’t believe I never told you my name. It’s Phil. My name is Phil.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Phil,” Dan said formally, and then broke into giggles.
Phil pulled away and giggled along with him, seeing his own giddy happiness reflected in Dan’s face as the firework show’s grand finale exploded in multiple colors at once above them. “I have to … um…” Dan stammered shyly. “I have to go meet my family at the front gate.”
“I know,” Phil replied, then kissed him one more time, just a brush of their lips.
“But I’ll call you,” Dan hurried to add. “Phil.” And he smiled again.
“I know,” Phil repeated with a grin, and then gave him one last kiss. Dan turned to walk away, but looked back once before he disappeared into the crowd. Phil smiled and raised a hand, then chuckled to himself when he realized it was the one that was still slightly coated in drying bodily fluids.
When he was sure Dan was gone, Phil turned to walk back toward the employee lot where he’d parked his car. He walked loose-limbed, thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his ripped jeans … and for the first time today, Disneyland really did feel like the happiest place on earth.
Author’s End Note: I’m just going to ignore the logistical difficulties of mutual simultaneous hand jobs when one participant is right handed and the other is left handed. Pretend I never even pointed out the potential awkwardness.
Summary: Two pop punk fans meet at a concert and spend a little too much time in a public toilet together.
Rating: Mature
Genre: AU + smut
Word Count: 2.9K
[A/N] Written for @phanfichallenge, the Phandom Writing Challenge 7: the Songfic challenge. Song: All I Want by A Day to Remember. Beta’d by Sam (thank you!!).
“Thanks.” Phil held his new shirt to his chest as he moved through the masses, away from the merch table. In a quiet spot by the cloakroom he pulled his jumper over his head and stuffed it in his backpack. When he looked up to pick up his new shirt, he found a boy watching him. He averted his gaze when their eyes met, but Phil had already seen him.
“Enjoying the view?” He joked, face flushing.
Fortunately, the boy picked up on his attitude, “Yeah, I have a big thing for skinny white boys.”
Phil couldn’t help but laugh at that and he shook his head as he pulled the shirt on. “Well, I have a thing for voyeurs, so you’re in luck.”
“I don’t seem to be in luck, you’ve put your shirt on.”
Okay, so this guy was cute and joking around with him, but was this flirting or just friendly banter? Phil was exceptionally bad at distinguishing the two.
When he moved over to the counter to hand his bag off, the boy followed at a comfortable distance.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked when Phil turned back around to face him.
Okay, so flirting it is.
“Definitely.”
As they made their way to the bar, Phil kept stealing glances at the boy next to him; at the way his curls kept falling into his eyes and how a few lines of a tattoo peeked out of his shirt when he moved.
They both ordered a beer and sat down on the bar stools. “What’s your name?” Phil asked, leaning back and bringing the glass to his lips.
“Dan.”
“I’m Phil. Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Is this your first A Day To Remember show?”
“Nah, I followed them around for a few weeks last summer.”
“In the States?”
“Yeah, it was cool.”
“Wow, mate. This is my first time seeing them, but I appear to be in the presence of a connoisseur.”
Phil laughed, “I like the tunes. I don’t really get involved with anything else surrounding them, to be honest.”
As if on cue, a mass of loudly chattering fans walked past them, making him unable to hear the other until they’d passed. Phil liked loud music, but he wasn’t much into the loud devotees surrounding it. He watched the group leave before turning his attention back to Dan.
“So, you’re one of those guys who stands in the back and nods along?”
“Usually, though sometimes I switch things up and stand by the bar instead.”
“A show not moshed is a show not enjoyed.”
Phil laughed and clinked their glasses together, “Cheers to that.”
“Seriously, come in the pit with me tonight. I’ll show you a good time.”
“Show me a good time, huh?”
“Yep, however you want to take that.” Dan raised his eyebrows suggestively, but only managed to keep his composure for a second before breaking into a goofy grin.
“I think I’ll take you up on that.”
--
As the doors opened and the masses started to flood into the hall, the two men left their glasses deserted and followed the mob. When they were almost pushed away from each other, Phil reached out, grabbed Dan’s hand, and pulled him back to him. “Stay with me. You haven’t showed me a good time yet.” Phil shouted over the music, leaning in close to Dan.
Dan led them to the side of the crowd, fairly close to the stage. “Perfect entry into the pit later,” he explained. They bopped their heads along to the warmup tracks and watched stage techs set up the instruments for the opening act.
It wasn’t until they’d been standing around for nearly ten minutes that Phil realised neither had actually let go of the other’s hand. He glanced to his side for a moment, but Dan was distracted by a scuffle happening a few yards away from them. Their hands were squeezed in between their bodies where they were pushed together by the crowds, and Phil wondered if he should let go.
He didn’t.
--
Dan kept quite still during the opening act, jumping a few times but otherwise staying in place. He half-heartedly mouthed along to a few of the choruses but he clearly wasn’t too familiar with the band. Phil had looked them up on Spotify the day before, but they weren’t his cup of tea. Bands were always better live though, and he had to admit he was enjoying their performance. The fact that the front man was cute helped too.
A small mosh pit had opened up near the front of the audience. Phil eyed it nervously as the fans slammed in to each other and pushed each other around. When Dan caught him looking he squeezed his hand and grinned at him.
So, he had realised they were still holding hands too.
--
Phil was grateful for his earplugs when the main band finally came on stage. Someone next to him jumped on his foot in excitement and the first crowdsurfer was already being hoisted up. They launched into the first song and Phil gave Dan a questioning look. Not yet, Dan mouthed in response.
And so, Phil lost himself in the music. He jumped along and shouted the words and reached his free hand towards the stage, eyes trained on his favourite band. He was being pushed and shoved from all sides but he barely noticed. The room around him had faded away and there was just him, the people on stage, and the music that had saved his life countless times.
When he felt a tug on his hand he was almost annoyed for being dragged out of his daze. Then he realised what was happening, and followed Dan to the pit. He couldn’t hear him, but he was pretty sure Dan shouted, “Let’s go!” at him before throwing himself right into the middle of the action. Phil hesitantly stood by the side for a few seconds, taking deep breaths and squaring his shoulders, until he was ready to jump in.
He was immediately absorbed into the movement, pushed forwards and backwards and into bystanders. It was an unpredictable rhythm that he quickly got used to and moved along with. This would definitely leave him with some painful bruises the next day, but God, he felt so alive.
He found himself cheering along when Jeremey McKinnon, the band’s lead singer, shouted something at the moshers. For those few seconds of relative calm, he made eye contact with Dan and found the other looking back at him. They were both sporting wide grins and lively eyes, and they shared something unspoken in that short moment before they were pushed onwards.
--
Halfway through the set, Phil was dragged out of the pit, to the front of the audience. There, safe from the pushing and grabbing but still high on adrenaline, he pulled Dan to him and kissed him.
Dan responded immediately, moving his hand through the hair on the back of Phil’s head and opening his mouth.
It was a moment unmatched by anything Phil had ever felt before. Surrounded by fans shouting the words to one of his favourite songs back at the band on stage, sweaty bodies too close together, all senses heightened. The flashing lights pierced through his eyelids and kept his heart beating at top speed.
Dan didn’t give him the chance to recover and bring his heart rate down to a healthy speed; the moment they broke apart, he was already pulling him back to the pit. Phil felt high on life, jumping in without hesitation this time and falling right back into the rhythm of the mosh pit.
--
The show went by too fast.
Phil hurt all over from moshing, but it was all worth it by the time the band went into the encore and the pit thinned out and eventually disappeared. He grabbed Dan’s hand. The two of them smiled at each other for a moment before joining the rows near the front of the stage to enjoy the final songs.
Gigs were entirely different this way. He was used to staying in approximately the same place and having some drinks. He’d never expected moshing and making out to feel so right and so perfect, especially after he’d rolled his eyes at kissing couples before plenty of times.
They stayed and watched the techs clear the stage after the show. Dan picked up some confetti and stuffed it in his pocket, and Phil sat down amidst the red paper. Behind them the masses of fans cleared the room and left them with the crew, who was breaking up the decor. The night was coming to a close, and Phil wasn’t sure what was going to be left of him and Dan after they left this hall.
“Ready to go?” Dan offered him his hand and pulled Phil to his feet. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Was this an invitation?
“Yeah, me too.”
He wasn’t, really. But he’d take any excuse he could get to spend more time with Dan at this point.
“I know this great burger place just a few streets over, should be open at this hour. I’ve never seen them closed.”
“Alright, yeah let’s go.”
Their feet left trails in the confetti littered around and Phil couldn’t help but follow Dan’s example from before: he picked some up and put it in his pocket.
“I have a book at home,” Dan said, “of just little summaries of gigs and confetti and pictures. I love remembering the good times I’ve had.”
Phil’s mind wandered, wondering if Dan had done this before. Had taken on a random stranger and strung them along, just for the night.
They picked up their belongings from the cloak room, and Phil was grateful to have a jacket in his backpack when they stepped outside. It was chilly and dark, a starless sky stretching out over their heads with only the luminous signs on the storefronts around them to light the streets.
As they walked further into residential neighbourhoods and left the city centre behind, it got darker around them. A heavy silence had settled over them, and it didn’t lift until the bright lights from a burger joint lit up in front of them. The shop looked out of place, as if it had been picked up from its original spot and dumped in a random place, which just happened to be smackdab in the middle of a quiet suburban street.
Going inside was like stepping into a different dimension. There were some people casually sat at the bar drinking coffee, and two women were sharing some chips in one of the booths. Nothing gave away the fact that it was close to midnight on a Thursday evening.
They each ordered a burger at the register and chose a table as far from the other people as they could. Phil finally took a moment to properly look at Dan for the first time since they’d shared those beers before the gig. His hair was curlier now from sweating in the mosh pit, and he looked tired but content. Phil didn’t even want to know what he looked like himself.
“How was your night?” Dan asked, leaning back in the booth with one arm casually swung over the back off the sofa.
“Fucking wild.” Phil said before he could filter his speech.
Dan broke into a toothy grin, “Yeah, same. I didn’t get to crowdsurf, but I got to kiss the hottest guy at the whole event, so I think I won.”
Without missing a beat Phil said, “Yeah, but I participated in my first mosh pit and kissed the cutest guy at the event.”
Their feet brushed together under the table, sending a shiver up Phil’s spine. Their eyes met and in that moment, they seemed to somehow think the same thing. Making sure no one was watching them, they snuck out of their booth and into the bathroom.
The men’s bathroom was grim, to say the least. It was just about the last place Phil in his right mind would want to have an intense make-out session, but it was the only available place right now and he was desperate. The moment the door was locked behind them, he had Dan with his back pressed against the door. Their lips met in the middle and for a few minutes there was nothing but that kiss and Dan’s hands grabbing at Phil’s shirt.
Then the last part of his brain that was concerned about hygiene went out the door and he was pulling at Dan’s belt. Dan was immediately impatient, pushing Phil’s hands away and undoing his jeans himself, pushing them halfway down his thighs. His eagerness was briefly eased as Phil started kissing his neck, going down from just under his jaw to the hem of his shirt, pulling it aside to expose more skin. He let his hands run down Dan’s torso as he sank to his knees.
Dan, realising what was happening, sighed and leaned his head back against the door. His hands tangled in Phil’s hair, as the other wrapped his fingers around his cock and pumped up and down a few times before taking the tip into his mouth.
He had one hand at the base of Dan’s erection, the other on his slim hip. His nails were digging into the skin on his abdomen, but neither of them really noticed.
Dan was clearly trying to keep quiet, muffling his moans and biting his lip. Every so often he suddenly took a deep breath, as though he just realised he hadn’t been breathing for a while. Phil was going mildly insane on the floor, his own cock painfully pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He paused what he was doing momentarily to readjust it into a less unpleasant position. This gave Dan just enough time to collect himself a little and whisper a “fuck,” under his breath.
Then Phil’s mouth was on him again and he let out a whimper, caught off guard.
Phil could feel that he was getting close, his legs were trembling a little and his abdomen was all tensed up. “Phil,” the boy said softly.
Phil didn’t respond, instead tightening his grip on Dan’s hip and taking him deeper into his mouth. Dan shivered as he involuntarily bucked his hips. He came hard, fingernails grazing Phil’s head and jaw going slack. Phil worked him through it. He moved his hand along the base where his mouth couldn’t reach.
When Dan took a shaky breath, his first normal breath in a few minutes, Phil swallowed and got to his feet.
“God, you’re hot.”
Dan grinned as he pulled his trousers back up and buckled his belt, “Let me catch my breath. I’ll return the favour.”
“Nah, this one was on the house. Before the gig you told me you’d show me a good time and you did. Thanks for that.” Phil stretched out his stiff limbs and rolled his neck. He was still uncomfortably hard, but the high was over, making him realise where he was and what he was doing. The restaurant staff may not have cared or noticed before, but if they kept the only toilet occupied for even longer people might start getting suspicious.
“Pretty sure you repaid that three times over just now.”
They did their bests to clean themselves up in the dirty bathroom stall before going back out. No one in the restaurant seemed to care much about what had just transpired right under their noses. They didn’t even bat an eye as Dan and Phil suspiciously walked out of the single men’s bathroom together and back to their booth. Their food had arrived while they’d been away, but the burgers were still warm.
Phil flushed his mouth out with some coke and inconspicuously sloshed it around his mouth for a few seconds.
“Remember when I said I’d never made out with anyone at a concert before?” Dan asked. He was speaking quietly enough that Phil knew he was about to say something about what they’d just done.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve never gotten a blowjob in a bathroom at a burger place before.”
“Especially not at midnight on a Thursday, I’m sure.”
“Whereas you have, of course, given plenty of blowjobs on Thursday nights in public toilets.”
“Yeah, this was my third.”
--
They sat on the curb as they waited for their Ubers. Neither of them had brought up their impending separation, and Phil wasn’t about to. A car turned the corner and slowed to a stop in front of them. “Uber for Daniel?”
The two of them got to their feet, and Dan pulled Phil into a hug, “Thanks for tonight.”
“This was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
They shared a short kiss under the streetlight in front of the strangest burger place Phil had ever been to and when they pulled apart Dan immediately got into the car. “Call me.” He said.
Phil raised his eyebrows, “But I-”
“Check your pocket.” Dan gave him one last smile, then closed the door. As the car drove off, Phil patted down his pockets and found a napkin in the left one of his coat. A string of numbers was scribbled in a corner in blue ink. He grinned to himself, clutching the paper in his hand as he realised that Dan intended on returning the favour sooner rather than later.
In honor of the release of Phil’s merch, we give you a fashion challenge! We want you to write a fic featuring fashion in some way. Maybe Phil is a fashion designer, or Dan is a model. Maybe one of them is updating their style, or maybe Dan is just really excited about Phil’s new merch, just like the rest of us. It’s up to you to decide!
Requirements:
Minimum 500 Words
Write a fic about fashion!
Event Begins August 15 and ends August 22
Rewards
This challenge is worth 50 points and, upon completion, you will earn this fancy badge!
(badge created by @sleeplessnightwithphan)
Remember- We reblog your fics, so tag us or submit a post when you’re done!
It’s just a fluffy little first meeting story in an au where Dan works at an amusement park photo kiosk and Phil likes to ride roller coasters.
Read on AO3
Written for @phanfichallenge photography challenge
Hate is a strong word. Dan doesn’t hate his job, not exactly. He knows it could be worse. He could be cleaning toilets or scraping food off of dishes. He knows that people do real manual labor, dangerous labor, for less money than he’s making to mostly sit on his ass. It’s just that he hates wearing this stupid green polo shirt and he hates going outside during the day. And he really hates dealing with cargo short clad vacation dads that look just like the guys that tried to shove Dan into his locker every day of his high school career. The only difference is these guys are balding and have beer guts and come with tiny little monstrous versions of themselves.
Luckily, poor customer service is a skill that Dan has carefully honed to near perfection. In most cases, he can complete an entire transaction without looking up from his phone. There is one perk to working here though, tit patrol. Tit patrol is the creative title the crew uses to refer to the person who sits at a computer and watches as newly taken photos page by, looking for obscene gestures, exposed arses, and of course tits. These photos get sent to a folder for deletion before they can slip by and show up on the big screen at the back of the kiosk. It’s a coveted position, though the show is far from tantalizing. Quick flashes of all kinds of flesh are more awkward than arousing and they’re interspersed with hundreds of terrified faces and awful shots of vomit flying. Dan loves being on tit patrol because, well because its hilarious, and because it means he doesn’t have to talk to people.
His shift started at 11 AM. Dan walked in at 11:10, iced coffee in hand. He pulled his hideous green polo shirt out and shoved his bag into his cubby. Everyday, he grumbles that he should be aloud to wear black since the kiosk sells photos of riders on a roller coaster called the Vampire. Everyday, his coworkers roll their eyes and ignore him. With his official employee shirt on, collar popped, sleeves rolled up, black t-shirt peeking out at the neck, he took his place behind the counter and began scrolling through Tumblr. It was mostly families with little kids before noon which meant this particular kiosk was dead. The Vampire is way too fast and way too scary for little kids.
The first customer of Dan’s day slides his ticket across the counter. In his usual way, Dan punches the number into his keyboard and the photo appears on both his screen and the one facing the customer.
“Oh wow. So much for my ultra masculine reputation.” The customer giggles a bit, looking at the photo of himself, hand thrown over his eyes, mouth open in a scream of fear, as the coaster sped downhill through a dark and foreboding cave.
Dan looks briefly at the photo and says, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”
The customer just stares at Dan who hasn’t so much as glanced at him. “One for 10 or two for twenty? Wait, but that’s not…”
Dan huffs and repeats himself, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”
“Okay,” the customer says, resigned, “I’ll take one please. I’ll put it up on my bathroom mirror to keep me humble.”
Dan just sort of grunts as he hits print. He slides the photo into an envelope and hands it over.
His voice is utterly devoid of joy as he issues the standard closing. “Thank you for riding the Vampire, we hope you had a bloody good time.”
A surprised laugh bubbles from the customer as he walks away.
As they move into afternoon, business picks up and a line forms. Dan is on autopilot. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, take the money, print the photo. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”
“Thought I’d stick with the theme, since I’m clearly a scaredy cat. Get it, scaredy cat?” Dan knows that voice. It’s the customer from earlier. “I’ll pass on the photo though, thanks.”
Dan looks to his screen. This time the man’s face isn’t covered by his hands and it’s a good face. He wears a big smile and his tongue pokes through his front teeth just the smallest bit. He had drawn on a black cat’s nose and whiskers but they don’t hide how strangely good looking he is. Even on this cut rate monitor screen, his eyes look impossibly blue. It’s all framed by a perfect black fringe, not much different than Dan’s own hair. It occurs to Dan that he could be looking right into those eyes and he snaps his gaze to look up at the customer. All he catches is two seriously long legs and a very cute booty walking away in black skinny jeans.
Dan pouts. He never gets to talk to hot boys and now he’d let one slip away. His eyes fall back to the photo on the screen and he sighs.
“Hey, are you working here or what?” Dan curls his lip in disgust at the sharp contrast between the obnoxious American dad in front of him and the ethereal being he saw on the screen. Ok, maybe ethereal is a bit much, but he seems funny and nice and he’s so pretty.
Dan mopes until he’s minutes away from his lunch break. His last customer hands him their ticket and Dan gasps when the photo appears. It’s him! His scaredy cat! The whiskers are gone. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth curled into a proud grin. He holds a small stuffed toy lion aloft, à la Circle of Life. Dan laughs, something he doesn’t do very often at work and the customer in front of him laughs with him.
“That boy.” Such a sweet, maternal tone. “I’ll take two copies please.” Her accent is decidedly northern, even more so than the scaredy cat’s had been. This must be his mum. He’s here with his family. So much for tracking him down and snogging him in the employee locker room. Dan carefully tucks the photos into an envelope and hands them to the nice woman.
He flashes his most parent pleasing smile. “Thank you for riding the Vampire. We hope you had a bloody good time!” He actually sounds sincere.
“Oh! Oh dear.” The woman laughs and shakes her head.
“Pardon the language miss.”
“Miss? Young man, I’m likely older than your mother! And believe me these ears have heard far worse than that!” She laughs with Dan and gives him a £20 note. “Phil is going to be tickled pink when he sees how these turned out. You have a lovely day!”
Dan waves as she walks away, standing up to try and catch a glimpse of who she might be headed toward. It’s no use, the crowds are too dense. Phil though, his name is Phil. Dan eats his amusement park pizza outside in the hot sun in the hopes that Phil might walk by but it doesn’t happen. He’s probably gone home. He’d been Dan’s first customer of the day after all. And who in their right mind rides a rickety old Vampire themed rollercoaster three times in one day? Dan daydreams blue eyes and goofy smirks till his half hour was up.
After lunch, he’s on tit patrol so Dan plops down in the back of the kiosk with a giant slushee, trigger finger hovering over the F9 key. The system only gives you a few seconds to make a judgement and send the offender packing before the photo goes up on the big screen for the whole world to see. Any distraction could mean 4 seconds of scandal, angry parents and angrier middle management. More than once, Dan had let a notification on his phone take his attention and had let a middle finger slip by. Not today though, today his eyes are glued to the screen, hoping Phil will ride one more time. He’d see the photo go by and trade with one of the guys at the front and this time, he’d talk to him. He wouldn’t be too edgy to notice and he wouldn’t chicken out.
There were two bras flashed, one simulated blow job, and a whole coaster car full of naked bums, but no Phil. His two hours of tit patrol are up and he reluctantly relinquishes his post. Back on the front lines, he falls into his pattern and soon his shift is nearly up. When he finds himself without a customer in front of him for the first time in an hour, Dan sits up, stretching and rolling his neck. As if put there by the hand of fate, Phil walks past the kiosk. He’s chatting excitedly with a man that looks a lot like him and a gorgeous woman with fiery hair. His parents trail behind, holding hands.
Just as the group gets far enough away that Dan would look like a psycho for running after them or calling Phil’s name, Phil turns and looks right at Dan. He doesn’t stop, he just turns in place like a model on a catwalk. He doesn’t smile, just catches Dan’s eyes with own and goes on his way. Dan swallows and groans out loud, letting his head thunk down on the the counter.
Accustomed to Dan’s flair for the dramatic, his co-workers chuckle and ignore him. Dan pulls off his ugly green polo and begins to gather his stuff to go home.
“Shit! Shit.” Dan’s co-worker, Jack was on tit patrol and it sounds like he let something by. “Personal info. Fuck. Oh well. Who holds up their phone number on a roller coaster? It’s not even like a proposal or whatever.”
The big screen fills Dan’s vision and he bolts upright. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”
Dan is jumping around and shouting to the disapproving looks of dozens of tourists and he couldn’t care less. Phil looks out at him from the big screen, a smirk better than the one Dan had imagined on his lips. He holds a sign that says, I hope you’re paying attention. And underneath that, a phone number.
Jack says, “Oh hello, he’s hot” and holds up his phone to capture the image. Another co-worker, Ellie, picks up a pen and starts to scribble down the number.
“Don’t you dare.” Dan snarls at Jack, pointing a finger menacingly. Jack lowers his phone and puts his hands up in surrender. Dan walks to Ellie and snatches the number from her hand.
She frowns, “How do you know it’s for you? It could be for any of us!”
“Oh, it’s for me.” Dan grins, his dimples digging in deep, “HE is for me.” He turns up his nose and spins on his heel for the most theatrical exit he can muster, then walks out of the kiosk to a chorus of giggles and grumbles.
Once he’s out of the park, he sits down on a bench at the edge of the parking lot and enters the number into his phone. He types in the name, Phil, bouncing in his seat like a giddy child after too much cotton candy. His hands shake as he types out a message, praying to no one that he hadn’t read that look wrong.
Hi Phil, It’s Dan from the Kiosk.
He hits send, his knee bouncing with nerves and as he’s returning the phone to his pocket, it vibrates.
Dan? You’re the one with the green hair, right?
Is he kidding? He must be kidding. He didn’t even talk to Jack. Another vibration. Dan holds his breath.
Dan? I’m kidding, of course! What follows is a string of emojis, a dinosaur, a warthog, some fireworks, and a cry laughing emoji. I know who you are. You’re the one with the chocolatey eyes and incredible dimples. Nice to meet you, Dan.
Dan exhales and a flutter moves through his belly, up past his heart, and down to his fingertips. Phil laid it on thick and it was working.
Nice to meet you too, Phil.
So Dan, I’ve got a pretty wild Friday night planned.
Oh yeah? Dan replies.
Yeah, it includes pizza, Ribena, and…
Dan breathes a laugh to himself and types, drumroll...
JURASSIC PARK!!!
Gasp! Pizza and Jeff Goldblum?!! I don’t know Phil, sounds intense. You’re easily frightened. You sure you can handle it?
Maybe if I had someone here to help me through it, someone strong and brave. You know anyone like that?
Yeah, but I think Jack’s busy tonight. Dan typed but stood and began his walk to the bus stop. He wasn’t wasting any more time.
prompt: something based off of the events of dan's I Nearly Died (Not) video?
hopelessly, i’ll love you endlessly
a/n: written for day 4 of @phanfichallenge‘s week of writing challenge, and also for you, nonnie. sorry this sat in my inbox for so long.
summary: dan’s going into surgery to have his appendix removed, and phil’s there to provide him some before-and-after comfort. based off of dan’s I Nearly Died (Not) video.
read on ao3
1.1k words
warning: sex mention (v light, they just talk about it, but in case it makes you uncomfortable), hospitals, surgery
“Ow.”
Inhale.
“Ow.”
Exhale.
“Ow.”
Inhale.
“Daniel?” Dan’s eyes flew open and he whipped around to face thedoor, trying to ignore the sharp pain that shot up his neck. His head wasthrobbing. It had started with a dull ache at the base of his skull, but aftertwo hours of grinding his teeth whilst listening to Mr. Ow in the bed oppositehim, it had spread up and out to all the edges of his head.
The pretty nurse who had given him a magazine after he was settledbeneath rough sheets on the lumpy mattress was stood in the doorway now, agentle smile on her face, and her hand on the arm of a tall, lanky boy withstriking black hair. Phil.
“I’ve snuck your friend in, but you’ll have to stay quiet, and hehas to be back out in the waiting room by the time visiting hours are over.”She nudged Phil into the room, and it was only when she let go of his arm thatDan noticed his hands were shaking.
Phil stumbled a bit, making Dan reach out an arm (as if he was inany state to catch a falling Phil right now), but he managed to right himselfand closed the rest of the distance between himself and Dan’s hospital bed injust two more strides. He knelt down beside the bed, placing both of his handson Dan’s forearm. They stilled immediately.
“How are you feeling?” he whispered. His voice still wavered.
“I want McDonald’s,” Dan croaked.
Phil let out a startled laugh. “You’re not allowed to eat beforeyour surgery, but I’ll sneak some in tomorrow for when you’re all better. Nowscoot over.”
Dan slid to the edge of the bed - as far as he could go withoutfalling off - hissing as the lower, right-hand side of his stomach let out ajolt of pain. Phil slid into the bed beside him, immediately reaching for theoffending point of Dan’s discomfort. He rested his hand over the thin clothwhere it hurt and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Dan’s shoulder.
Dan breathed out softly. Phil was good. So good. Letting his lollonto Phil’s chest, he resumed listening to Mr. Ow. His exclamations weregrowing louder and louder with each inhale. It was almost as if he was puttingon a show.
“Are you sick of listening to this guy?” Phil’s breath blew warmlyinto his ear and fanned down his neck.
Dan nodded. “Headache.”
Phil clicked his tongue. “Well, we can’t have that. Do you want tolisten to music on my phone?”
“You won’t mind being stuck here listening to Mr. Ow without evenme to talk to?”
“Nah.” Phil shifted his hand to slot his fingers through Dan’s.“I’ll just listen to you breathe.”
He dug inside his pocket with his free hand, searching for hisphone. When he pulled it out, the headphones were already plugged in, coiledtightly around the glass screen. He let go of Dan’s hand to unwind them, butDan barely had any energy left to protest.
He just let his hand fall limply onto the bed. Phil made quickwork of the wires and wiggled them into Dan’s ears so he wouldn’t have to.There was a brief pause before any music flooded through the tiny speakers -presumably to adjust the volume - and then Muse came on, the soft notes fromMatt Bellamy instantly making Dan relax further into the mattress.
His eyes fluttered shut, and he curled into Phil, reaching blindlyfor his hand again. Phil obliged, slotting his fingers between Dan’s with onehand, and bringing the other one up to card through Dan’s hair. It wouldn’t getrid of his headache entirely, but it would act as an apt distraction.
Dan drifted to sleep just like that. With Phil’s hands providingthe comfort he needed and a lullaby from their favorite band.
When he woke, Phil was nowhere to be found. He’d tucked the sheetsmore tightly around Dan and removed the earbuds from Dan’s ears gently enoughto not wake him, but he was still gone now. Dan pouted. He’d rather be able tosee Phil before his surgery, but he knew that not even the nice nurse from lastnight would allow it. Phil wasn’t family, at least not by blood.
Dan sighed. At least Mr. Ow was gone. Or maybe he’d just finallyfallen asleep. Dan didn’t really give a fuck either way, but his headache hadfinally faded away in the night, and he’d rather not have another go of it thismorning.
“Knock, knock!” One of the nurses strode into the room. “Are youready?”
When he woke for the second time that day, Dan wasn’t quite surewhere he was. His head felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton, andthere was something covering his nose and mouth. The more he came to, the more awarehe grew of his surroundings. The thing covering his nose and mouth was pumpingoxygen into his body. Beneath him, the rough sheets of the hospital bed werestill rough, but that didn’t feel nearly as bad as the cold metal table of theoperating room had. There was still a dull ache in his lower abdomen, but itdidn’t hurt nearly as badly as it had the night before.
Even though his eyes were closed, the light above his head wasmuch too bright for his liking. It pierced through them, pouring into his unwillingretinas until he thought he might scream. Could someone turn that fucker off?
Dan groaned lowly, and suddenly there was a warm hand wrappedaround his own.
“Danny?”
Dan groaned again but forced his eyes open. He knew that voice.Sea-blue eyes looked back at him beneath a furrowed brow, and Dan wished he hadthe energy to reach up and smooth it out. Phil shouldn’t ever have to be thatworried about him. He was just Dan.
“‘m ‘kay,” he mumbled.
Phil let out a long, relieved sigh. “That’s good. That’s reallygood. Does anything hurt, babe? Do you want me to call a nurse? Let me call anurse.”
“Hurts,” Dan grunted. “Morph’ne? I really jus’ want you. Don’t let‘em take you ‘way ‘gain.”
“I won’t. Let me get a nurse so you can have your morphine. Andonce they’re gone? I have a little surprise for you, but you can’t tellanyone.”
“Sex?” Dan startled. “Phiw we can’t ‘ave sex in ‘ere. I jus’ gotoutta surger-er-y.”
Phil snorted. “No, Dan, not sex. You need to be well-better beforewe’re having sex again because I said so.”
For @phandomficfests troupe swap thing. So instead of Strangers to Lovers, this is Lovers to Strangers.
Rated: e
Word Count: 514
TW: Alzheimers
The community accepted them quickly with arms wide open. Choosing to move into Brookside was a decision Dan and Phil had made together after months of conversation. It wasn't like they had their freedom taken away and living with nurses a ring of a bell away gave them security. Living in a miniature house had its perks as well. No more steps and no need to break their backs taking care of the place, they had good-looking young men to do that for them now.
"Happy Birthday!" Dan said enthusiastically as a young nurse set a cake in front of Phil.
"Dan, don't you think giving a 90-year-old man with blood sugar issues a cake for his birthday is a bad idea?" Phil smiled fondly at his partner adjusting his glasses.
"Don't worry Mr. Lester we made it sugar-free," the nurse said.
"Yeah, you spoon. Do you really think I would feed you sugar? It's been at least a decade since we've been able to eat the stuff."
---
"Dan, what is today's date?" Phil asked his shaky hand hovering over a piece of paper. He really needed to get their grandsons graduation card in the mail.
"PhilII told you this ten minutes ago it's the 3rd of June. Are you feeling okay?" Dan's brows came together as he placed a hand on Phil's shoulder.
Frustrated Phil sighed, "I'm fine love just forgot."
---
They moved him away from Dan. Phil didn't understand why they wouldn't let him continue living with his husband in their cozy apartment. Even though Dan visited him every day it wasn't the same.
"Hey Dan, I thought of a really good idea for AmazingPhil. It's going to be great!" Phil could hardly contain his excitement.
Dan didn't say anything he just stared back at Phil with a sad look in his eyes. It seemed every day the wrinkles on Dan's forehead borrowed deeper and deeper.
Dan's breath hitched, "Sweetie we stopped doing YouTube in our forties."
"Oh don't be silly Dan, we have to start filming soon. Where is the camera? Don't tell me it's up in the lounge? I hate climbing those stairs."
---
Phil woke to a young man leaning over his bed. He wasn't sure if he had fell asleep at a friends house or something. Disoriented he tried to get up.
"Now now Mr. Lester you know you can't get out of bed yourself. Wait until Mr. Howell gets here and we will get you set up." The young blond said.
"Who?" Phil asked. Mr. Howell?
An older gentleman entered the room holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Good morning Philly. What do you want to do today?" The older man questioned as he put the flowers in a vase next to the bed Phil was in.
"Who are you?" Phil was still highly confused as to where he was and who all these people were.
"I'm Dan, we are friends." Dan smiled at him with so much sadness behind his eyes. Well, at least Phil could humor the guy.
as a prompt by @phanfichallenge to post a fic every day this week, have my tour fic twist on the seven deadly sins!!
The Seven Deadly Insta Stories
A collection of seven short fics based on the seven deadly sins, as told in the form of insta stories dnp didn’t post.
Part 1: Greed - 730 words
Read on AO3
Phil pulls out his phone - Dan’s halfway across the street now, rushing up to the entrance of the boutique store he’d spotted and demanded they stop at. Even though they’re late.
“So Dan saw this jumper,” Phil explains, keeping his voice light as he films through the tinted window of the tour bus, “the one with the sparkly stripes down the sleeves.” He zooms in on the item in question, a pitch black sweater - of course, what other color would it be? - modeled by a purple headless mannequin in the dim store window. Phil zooms back out.
“Uh oh!” He chuckles as he watches Dan pull at the door handle to no avail. “It must be closed!” It’s pretty late, but Dan had insisted they at least try, because how could he pass up that jumper? So - in spite of Phil’s anxieties - they’d delayed their departure for a few minutes, long enough to presumably let Dan make a quick purchase.
Except now he’s whirling around on the spot, shaking his head and shrugging at the bus; Phil can’t help the little self-satisfied smirk he makes, reflected in the window back at himself - it serves Dan right, not getting what he wants when he inconvenienced everyone else. Just as he steps back into the street, a flash of purplish-white lightning illuminates the dark road - which, Phil admits, looks pretty amazing for the insta story. It looks far less amazing, though, when Dan jumps, clearly wide-eyed even through the grainy lens of the camera.
“Dan, hurry back!” He tells the window and the camera, silently sending the message to Dan as well. It’s not that it’s far, but if it starts-
“Oh no,” Phil laughs through the words, though, as a sheet of rain hits hard and fast, drenching the bus and the window and the street and the pavement and all the way up to where Dan’s backed himself against the store window - right under the narrow overhang - in a sad attempt to protect himself; it’s only a moment before his wide eyes lock on the bus.
Phil has a very hard time keeping his hand steady as he snickers under his breath - Dan’s practically sprinting across the street, hand up to his forehead to keep the rain from his eyes. He doesn’t even get five steps before he’s clearly soaked to the bone.
“Guys, I think this is the most I’ve seen Dan run in his entire life!” Phil narrates. Once Dan’s disappeared out of view of the window, Phil turns; a moment later, Dan’s climbing into the bus, literally dripping everywhere. Phil can’t help but notice his very white shirt has soaked through completely.
“Oh, hello nips!” He chuckles, zooming in again; the camera misses Dan’s glare, but Phil certainly doesn’t.
“Fucking….just shut it off,” Dan grumbles, arms crossing over his chest, and Phil’s grin falls - surely Dan isn’t that upset about it? Yeah, he’s a bit drenched and he didn’t get the jumper, but...it’s not a big deal, right?
“Sorry,” he twists his lips into a frown as he stops the video, deletes it. He can post something else for their audience later; in the meantime, he glances around, searching for anything warmer than the wet clothes Dan’s standing in. Not to mention they’ve had the aircon blasting the whole trip so far, and Phil’s almost certain he noticed Dan shiver.
Phil ends up wrapping him in a spare blanket, and Dan grumbles out a thanks before shuffling on to the back of the bus and picking through his luggage for - Phil assumes - something dry to wear. Phil doesn’t say anything, but makes a point of scooting over on the bench so there’s just enough room for Dan to sit, if he wants.
Quickly, he types the name of the boutique into his search, just as the bus lurches forward beneath them and pulls away - the first four options aren’t right, but the fifth looks like the store, and he scrolls through with fervor until he finds the black jumper Dan had set his eyes on.
Phil clicks the ‘order’ button and tucks his phone away a moment before Dan returns, freshly clothed in their tour hoodie and a pair of baggy sweats, and collapses into the seat beside him. Phil reaches out on instinct, wrapping an arm around Dan’s shoulder and pulling him closer.
