#ace!dan

Dan groaned into his pillow at the nickname even though at this point, he'd let Jaime call him whatever she wanted. He just wanted to talk with her—it had been so lonely knowing she was in London.

"Congrats, you just ruined it." he mumbled.

When he pulled his face back up from his pillow Jaime was still smirking at him through the screen of his phone. It was late, but Jaime had just gotten back from a few days in London for the play and they were video calling to catch up with each other.

The live feed of Jaime's bedroom shifted and wobbled as she found a more comfortable position on the bed. When she settled her face was serious again.

"How do you feel about this though? Do you think that therapy is something that is right for you?"

Dan took a moment to think before answering.

"I want to see where it goes more than anything. I like Gina and I feel really comfortable with her which is good, but I think I just need to wait right now? Like, as much as I may want them, I know that there won't be instant results, and I know I'm probably going to keep struggling. After a little bit of work and time, if I haven't gotten anywhere then I might change my mind, but right now I'm ready to see this through."

"Wow Dan," Jaime said softy, a gentle smile on her face, "you've really grown up."

Dan could feel his rosey patch flare up, and he chuckled awkwardly. He didn't really know how to take that.

"I think we both know I have the maturity of a seven-year old, Jaime."

"No, Dan, not anymore." Jaime snorted and rolled her eyes, but her expression went right back to its softness of before. "You've really changed from that kid who turned up at my coffee shop looking like a drowned rat. You're you now."

Dan hummed to show he was listening, but at the same time he wasn't. He had absolutely no idea what the hell Jaime was getting at, especially whatever "you're you now" bloody meant. Who was he before? Was it a good change?

Why couldn't he see it too?

"How's the play coming?" Dan asked instead of the million other questions smashing around his skull. It was late and maybe deep talks weren't the best when they were both exhausted.

Jaime caught him up on all of the happenings of the play, and talked about the cute stagehand for a half an hour alone. She showed Dan a few promo posters that had her in them with joy all over her face.

Dan let the gentle, tired voice of his best friend slowly relax his body and mind as he listened. He felt the exhaustion of the day slowly creep over his limbs until he knew that it wouldn't be much longer until he either fell asleep on Jaime or they hung up.

"It feels like things are finally going good, you know?"

Dan smiled, his eyelids heavy and his head feeling a bit like mush but his heart spilling over with sleepy love and pride for this wonderful mess of a human being that was Jaime. God, did he miss her over these past few days.

"Yeah, I know."

~~~~~

"I'm so glad you could grace us with your presence." Dan called as Jaime tumbled through the door of the coffee shop the next morning looking tired but happy. She flipped him off but her smile didn't falter for a moment, so Dan knew perfectly well she wasn't that much of a grouch this morning.

"I'm glad to see that you're still a little shit."

"When you get famous I'm gonna find the nearest gossip site and tell them all about how you actually suck as a person." Dan retorted.

Jaime hummed as she tied her apron on and wrestled the coffee grounds out of Dan's hands.

"Give them here, I've left this place in your barbaric hands long enough."

"Love you too."

"A fanabla"

Dan wiped down the tables and filled the self-serve bar while Jaime started brewing the coffee. He helped her set the register, and they shared a vanilla latte while they browsed the music selection. By the time they were ready to open the windows were already fogged with condensation and Dan's nose was desensitized to the smell of fresh coffee.

Mary was in as usual, but this time when she saw Jaime she got terribly excited. Dan happily covered the first few people to wander through their small coffee shop while Jaime had most of her attention taken up by Mary who demanded to know everything that had happened in London. It was cute to see Jaime gushing about the past few days with an equally enthusiastic Mary. Plus he knew how much they had missed each other. 

"Daniel, how have you been? Have you told Jaime here to take that girl of her's out yet?" Mary asked, wrapping her much smaller hands around one of Dan's huge ones. Dan smiled.

"I told her last night on the phone to take her on a date the next time she was in London, but knowing Jaime it'll be three years until that happens." Mary cackled at Dan's remark and shot Jaime a look. "And I'm doing just fine. My day off was nice. I went back to therapy and then spent the rest of the day with Phil until he had to go to work."

"Speaking of Phil, how's he doing? I haven't seen him in a while. Well, I've seen him on the weather, haven't I?" Mary laughed.

"He's doing alright. His work at the weather station has picked up a bit, so hopefully he'll get a promotion soon. If he becomes a full-time employee then he can quit his job at Tesco."

"If they keep him as an intern any longer I'll certainly have to have a word with them."

Dan and Jaime both laughed, and after a moment of keeping her stern expression, Mary smiled gently.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to get going you two, I have a doctor's appointment to get to."

"I thought you went to the doctor's a few weeks ago?" Jaime said, frowning. Dan felt the corners of his mouth drop down now that Jaime mentioned the oddity. She was right—Mary had just been, was she okay?

"Oh, that's what happens when you get old, love, your whole body falls apart and all of your bills are medical ones." She patted Jaime's cheek and said goodbye to them one last time before turning on her heel and disappearing out the door.

By the time Mary left the morning rush started to trickle in, and Dan and Jaime took turns taking the orders. It was efficient and even kept the line short.

Dan was making a espresso for a stressed uni student when Jaime sided up next to him. She gently bumped her hip against his leg as a silent watch out I'm next to you as she reached for a new container of cream.

"That was weird."

"Hmm?"

"Mary. Was it just me? Or did you think the doctor's thing was suspicious too?" Jaime asked, following Dan as he brought the espresso back to the counter. Jaime started to mix the coffee for her customer as Dan ran up his customer.

"Do you think she's lying?" Dan asked as he gathered the necessary change. Jaime stopped for a count of five, her mouth in a tight line, eyebrows drawn together in thought. She mumbled something Italian under her breath before shaking her head and resuming what she was doing. 

"No, but it still seemed off to me."

Jaime handed her coffee off to her customer and collected the money as Dan took the order of the next person in line.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Projecting and all," Jaime continued, vaguely waving her hand to animate "and all".

"I don't know, Jaime, it didn't seem like the whole story, but I guess she was right with visiting the doctor more. I know my gran was always over at her doctor's for her bad kidneys. Maybe it really is just an old person thing?"

Jaime's face was set in that puzzled look once again.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Hey, Mary's fine. You know just as well as I do that she would tell us if something major was up. We're pretty much her grandkids."

Jaime nodded, a watery smile pulling itself onto her face. "You're right, there's no reason to worry, and I'm sure she's fine. I'm just being weird because she's, you know, like my mum and my nonna all in one."

Dan squeezed her hand with his spare one as he tried to fill his next order. Jaime was just as disowned as Dan himself was, but she still longed for that special relationship a kid had with their parents. Because of that, she had latched on to Mary in more of a maternal sense than Dan had. Dan on the other hand just wanted to be loved, and between Jaime, Phil, and Mary, he was content.

The rest of the morning rush lasted mostly in silence which was fine for Dan. As time passed Jaime bloomed further and further back into herself, and by the end of the hour he could barely even tell that she had been upset in the first place.

Now that customers were just a trickle, they were able to relax more, which was what Dan had been looking towards all day. Catching up with Jaime in a video call was good, but damnit he had missed her and in person conversations were always better without the distance and pixels creating a barrier between them.

Dan wrapped his arms around Jaime and pulled her in close, resting his head on top of hers. He smiled stupidly when she immediately hugged him back just as hard.

"I really hate how far away London is."

"Aww, did you miss me?" Jaime asked, even though they had already gone through this last night. Dan didn't bother quipping back something witty.

"Yeah, I did."

One of Jaime's hands was slowly rubbing the small of his back, and Dan had forgotten how soothing the motion was.

"I missed you a lot too. It felt weird not being able to walk a few blocks to annoy you whenever I wanted. And I mean, it was only for a week, but that's crazy for us."

Dan laughed.

"It really is. That was the longest we've been apart since we met, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, by like, five days for sure."

Their hug slowly and naturally dissolved, and when they were finally apart Dan was smiling just because everything felt right.

~~~~~

Dan let Jaime have the first lunch break, but like normal she didn't even bother to leave the counter. She perched herself on one of the stools and spread her lunch on the extra counter that was only used when there were massive lines.

They continued to chat, but when Jaime's phone ding!ed and she looked at it immediately, Dan's interest piqued. When a grin broke across her face after reading whatever notification she received his curiosity only grew.

"Is that that hot stagehand you told Mary and I all about?" Dan teased, resting his head on his hand. Jaime rolled her eyes, but Dan didn't miss the dusting of pink embarrassment that rose to her cheeks.

"No, it's Amazon telling me that your Christmas present is here."

"What is it? It's not that hideous jumper you sent me the link to is it? I mean Jaime even you said it was horrid."

"As much as that would be an amazing gag gift, it's not what I ended up choosing."

"Thank god."

Jaime tucked her phone back into her pocket.

"Speaking of Christmas, if you leave me to spend the whole thing with Phil I hope you know I'm going to kick you in the dick at best."

Dan involuntary cringed.

"Uh, yeah no I don't want any parts of that. But no, I was thinking that we could do something with the three of us? We can watch bad Christmas movies and make a gingerbread house and stuff if you want. I can even have it at my flat so you don't have to worry about having Phil at yours if you don't want."

"That would be really fun, I've been looking for more ways to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend."

"Jaime!"

"Fine, I'll control myself for the most part. But seriously, I'd like a Christmas with the three of us. I need to get to know my future brother-in-law better, and I already bought him a present so seeing him on Christmas would only be convenient."

Dan rolled his eyes, but judging from the large smile on Jaime's face her apathetic words weren't worth anything (like usual).

A trio wandered through the front doors, momentarily stealing away Dan's attention from Jaime. It was fine though—he was smiling all through making their coffees, thinking about how excited he was to spend Christmas with his two favorite people.

When he and Phil had finally parted ways, Dan had walked into the coffee shop in absolute bliss. The shop looked to be in the process of being half-open when he entered, most of the lights being on and the self-serve bar already filled. Jaime wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Dan could hear the sounds of someone moving in the back. They were probably out of cups again.

While he waited for Jaime to resurface from the supply room, Dan tied on his apron and pinned the name-tag to his chest. He was starting to set the register for the day when he heard steps behind him and the closing of the heavy supply door.

"Jaime, you'll never fucking believe what the hell happened, I-" Dan started, turning around to face his best friend with a huge grin on his face. Jaime wasn't the one to stumble out from the supply door, though, and Dan could feel his happy mood shatter as none other than Steve surfaced, accompanied with an impossible amount of things in his arms threatening to spill over any second.

Instantly, Dan's smile crashed and his heart dropped to his toes. Fuck….where the hell was Jaime?

"Would you stop staring and give me a hand? It's bad enough that you're late to work anyways." He grumbled, his frown already deepening. It was like Dan's presence was just...sucking the life from him.

Dan could say the same.

He didn't immediately move to help due to equal parts of reluctance and utter surprise at seeing his prickly coworker instead of his Jaime. He jerked into action however when a bag of coffee grounds decided to kamikaze off of the top of the armload of things Steve was carrying, scooping it up before it could touch the ground and depositing it onto the counter.

"Oh, that's all you can carry, huh?"

Dan turned, a scowl on his face that matched Steve's perfectly.

"Sorry, but I was a little thrown off to see you here instead of Jaime. You could have just taken a second trip, you know."

"Yeah, and you could have just shown up when you were supposed to. Besides, Jaime said she told you we were working together, so that's bullshit."

Dan wanted to scream and they hadn't even opened already, one, because of Steve's asshole attitude, and two, because Jaime didn't tell him, but he just clenched his jaw and turned back to the register. He could pull a shift with Steve without knocking the guy's teeth out, he's done it before, he can do it again.

Maybe with a miracle, Dan thought as he heard Steve stumble through starting the many coffee makers, grumbling to himself and making a mess that Dan would surely have to clean up.

He was restocking their supply of change in the register a few moments later and feeling a tad bit better about the situation—assuming they would both be able to just keep to themselves the whole shift—when something was thrown in his direction, hitting the side of his head and making Dan drop all of the coins in his hands onto the floor in surprise. The coins scattered in every direction and Dan swore loudly, looking up at Steve with murderous eyes, one hand coming up to his temple where whatever Steve threw at him had hit, even though it hadn't particularly hurt. Steve met his gaze with a mildly surprised expression—complete with a raised eyebrow—and shrugged.

"Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I can't help but notice your...well, hair. I don't think my uncle would want his business represented like that, so, put the hat on."

Dan glanced down to see one of the coffee shop employee hats crumpled on the ground. They were only required to be worn to pull an employee's long hair back and were otherwise completely optional, so Jaime and the other part-time girls that worked here were the only ones that really bothered with them. Dan flicked his gaze back up to Steve and glared with all of his might, trying to just murder the guy with his eyes.

"I've never had to wear one before I don't see why I have to now." Dan ground out, his jaw clenched.

"To my knowledge, Daniel, you've never decided to dye your hair before, so I guess this is a new experience for all of us." He responded, his voice dripping with distaste.

"What about Jaime's hair, huh? You've never said anything to her about her dyed hair so what's the big fucking deal with mine?" Dan shot back, his temper rising faster than he would have liked. His anger flared even further at being referred to as Daniel. Steve knew perfectly well that Dan didn't like his full name.

"She wears a hat, does she not?" Steve quipped.

Dan narrowed his eyes, but he didn't really have a smart-ass comeback for that because she did, it just wasn't because her hair was more red than a cherry was, but because of its length.

Not that Steve would fucking acknowledge that, though.

"Exactly." Steve said after Dan didn't immediately respond. "Put on the hat. And stop swearing."

Dan was about ready to explode, but this asshat's uncle was his boss and owned the whole damn shop and Dan barely had enough money as it was working as much as possible on a decent pay grade, so he really didn't need to get fired and have to work at minimum wage at some grocery store. Not to mention he would have to move or work roughly nonstop to pay his bills at that much of a pay cut.

So in the effort of his future, Dan bent down and picked up the hat, fitting it over his straightened hair with as much distaste as he could manage. Steve smirked and turned back around to continue beginning to brew coffee.

Angry and sufficiently humiliated, Dan shuffled about on his hands and knees, picking up all of the coins he dropped and sorting through them to put back into the register. They didn't say anything to each other, but then again words weren't needed to be able to feel the tension and utter hatred in the air between them.

After that, they finished the chores that they needed to accomplish without anything else being thrown or spilled, even if the split was uneven and Dan ended up doing the most of them. They opened and worked side by side in relative silence, serving a wide range of coffees in a short amount of time with a very abrupt influx of customers. The only thing that broke the monotone between them was the passive-aggressive bullshit Steve pulled. It was little shoves and almost-trips as Steve passed Dan, making Dan's blood rage in his ears because there was no way that he could go to his boss about this—Steve had his uncle wrapped around his little finger. God, he fucking hated Steve.

When Mary popped in not that long after opening, even she easily picked up on his sour mood.

"Why the long face, love? Is it because Jaime isn't in today?" She asked him, after exchanging their normal pleasantries.

Dan didn't really get the chance to answer before Steve was walking past him as Dan was in the midst of making Mary's coffee, bumping Dan out of the way. Dan hissed as some of the scalding hot liquid splashed up on his hand, pulling his hand away immediately on reflex and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth where he licked away the coffee and tried to sooth his skin. Dan lunged for the sink, turning on the cold water and thrusting his hand under it, breathing out a little in relief as the frigid water rushed over it. The skin where the coffee had made contact with was red and angry, throbbing and still hot to the touch when he dried his hands off. Dan bit his lip and gave Mary a sheepish almost-smile as he threw out the ruined coffee.

"Don't worry, I'll have another one for you in a minute." he muttered, already starting to make it. He was favoring his right, non-burned hand because his left ached something fierce, but it was fine. Everything was fine.

Mary, however, was frowning.

"Daniel slow down, I'm not in a rush. And please, for heaven's sake stop using your hand! You just burned it! Why don't you take a break and find a bandage for it, hun?" she cried shooing her hand at Dan from behind the counter as if to make him stop working herself.

Dan chewed at his lip again, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. He could technically take a break any time he needed if he was injured, and there was definitely a first-aid kit in the employee break room, but then again, Steve would probably give him hell over taking an unscheduled break, if anything call up his uncle after their shift and give him an earful about Dan "being clumsy" and "costing the business money". He looked down at his hand and noted the aggravated skin and dull pain, and decided he could make it until lunch. He could properly address it then—surely a few hours without care wouldn't be catastrophic.

"If you keep it up like that then you're only going to injure yourself more. Besides, I need to give that other young man a talking to that was no way to act." Mary continued, huffing and already looking past Dan as if she was trying to find Steve and chew his ear out for being a douche. The mental image made Dan smile, and he turned his attention back to her as he took his injured left hand off of the coffee machine.

"Hey, it's no problem, I've burned myself before." The last time being back during training, probably. "And don't worry, Mary, we've got bandages in the back." That Jaime would 100% let me go get, the only problem being that Jaime isn't here. "I'll fix myself up after I help you with your coffee." A few hours later, that is, but who's counting?

Mary didn't look convinced, but only set her lips in a tight line and watched carefully as Dan finished making her her replacement coffee like she would vault the counter and help him herself if Dan so much as injured himself even a tiny bit further.

After another stern warning to take care of himself and a death glare in Steve's direction, Mary shuffled her way out. Dan gave her a little wave and kept the small smile on his face until she was gone. However, immediately afterwards he let his smile slip and double-timed it over to the little door that separated the public from where the employees made coffee. He passed Steve, and when he gave Dan an incredulous look, Dan just pushed past him, giving him a bullshit excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

And, technically, Steve couldn't complain about that, so, fucking suck it, Steve.

Dan shoved the door open with his shoulder and let out a breath of relief when there turned out to be no one else in there. He went immediately to a stall and locked the door, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and before he could google information on burns via coffee, his eyes caught on several text notifications.

>> From: my maraschino cherry

hey dan, look i know this kind of sucks but im kinda having a crisis? u remember that acting role i was going for right? well i got a call-back (!!!) and its in a few hours and i cant come in to work today

i tried to sweet talk the boss into it NOT being steve but idk if it worked

also

answer ur phone stupid i didnt want to type all of this

plus i might have wanted to gush with u via phone but whatevs

anyways im stopping by on my way back later like probs around dinner so u know my pizza toppings and we're going to iron shit out we've got a lot to talk abt danny boy

(also get some ice cream in case this doesnt go well kay ty)

The timestamp read to be somewhere around the time that Dan got up this morning, so as it turned out, yes, Jaime did tell him that she wasn't coming into work today, and he would have known that if he had only looked at his damn phone.

Dan read over the texts again and felt his heart surge for his best friend. Jaime had wanted to be a thriving actress since she was three, and so far had only gotten as far as school plays and extremely minor parts in bust shows. It was a dream that the both of them shared, but unlike Dan, Jaime was still going for it.

She auditioned for every opportunity that she got. Movies, plays, shows, anything. Sometimes, like now, she would get call-backs, but more times than not she wouldn't hear anything back. It wasn't because of her lack of talent, but mainly due to large productions looking for people that were already known, as much bullshit as it may be.

Dan remembered this one that she was going for. It was a musical that had so far received decent press and attention, and if Jaime could land a significant part in it, it could potentially help her career as an actress take off.

Smiling widely, Dan typed out a few texts congratulating her and wishing her the best of luck even if by now she would probably be mid-audition. He also readily promised the pizza and ice cream, but not after making sure to tell her that she wouldn't need it, because she was going to do great.

Dan looked at the clock on his phone, and sighed before slipping it away. If he spent any longer in the bathroom, it might start to look a tad suspicious to Steve, so he might as well avoid the WebMD diagnosis of his death-via-coffee-burn until lunch.

He exited the stall and caught his own eye in the mirror, fixing his blue hair under his hat so it didn't look too much of a mess before slipping back out of the bathroom and returning to his position behind the counter. Steve was in the middle of making a frowning CEO-looking guy his coffee, and there was luckily no one else in the queue.

"About time you got back. Damn you take longer than a girl." Steve muttered just loud enough for Dan to hear as he passed him. Dan bristled, but like normal didn't say anything back. He just took a deep breath and smiled at the mum and her young kids walking through the door and up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

~~~~~

"Dan, why don't you make yourself useful and go wipe down the counter, yeah? My uncle isn't paying you to stand around and do nothing all day."

Gritting his teeth impossibly hard, Dan stomped over to the counter in question (that he had cleaned twice already today, and it was barely even noon), both of his hands in tight fists, one of them strangling the cleaning rag.

The few moments of calm and secondhand happiness for Jaime that he had had in the bathroom ended up carrying him over for an hour before he just sunk right back down to his previous state of miserableness from before. But that was a few hours ago. Now, he was seething and tired and about ready to snap.

He started to hate-clean the self-serve counter, roughly putting things back where they went after he wiped the surface down, and refilling the sugar so aggressively a uni student veered away from him with wide eyes.

Dan didn't give a flying fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was nearly finished when a hand touched his arm. Immediately he tore away from the hand and threw down the rag, spinning around and already opening his mouth to just fucking scream at Steve because damnit Dan could take the verbal abuse but he would bring hell before he let Steve put his hands on him. He nearly choked when he found Phil standing there with concerned eyes, his hand still outstretched from where Dan ripped away from it.

"Dan?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together, "Are you okay?"

The fight in Dan just...drained out of him and he let out a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders droop and head fall. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped at the strands, messing it up and rucking up the hat on his head.

"Yeah I just…" He let the words fade, not even having the energy to try and come up with a summary of his morning brief enough that wouldn't worry Phil further.

Phil looked like he wanted to wrap Dan up in his arms and Dan honestly would have welcomed it, but in the universe's normal fashion, the chance went up in flames with a shout from Steve behind him.

"Dan, I'm going out for a cigarette, take over!" Steve called, not even waiting for Dan to acknowledge him and making straight for the door outside after walking right past the massive line of people waiting for service.

Swearing under his breath, Dan rushed past Phil to get behind the counter, helplessly giving Phil an apology over his shoulder.

By using probably all of his luck for the next year, Dan was able to give the half a dozen people in the queue their coffees without spilling a single one of them and in a relatively timely fashion, only one of the customers becoming annoyed with the slower than normal service.

That's what happens when there's only one person working the counter, asshat.

Dan ran up the latest person on the register and automatically started to run up another sale when someone else stepped up to the register. Dan put the money he had been handed from the last customer in the register tray as he half-heartedly greeted whoever was in line now.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw the cleaning rag he had completely forgotten about and left behind plop down onto the counter and held back a sigh. If he was going to have a customer chew him a new one for accidentally leaving a rag out he was going to quit on the spot.

"Yes, I need you to take a break."

Dan breathed out as he recognized the voice. Phil. Of course, always Phil.

Dan laughed a little.

"If only, Phil."

"Dan…"

The tone of Phil's voice made Dan look up. Phil had the same look as before, but it was darkened by anger. Dan felt his stomach drop. Was Phil mad at him for something? What did he do?

Dan must have been too exhausted to try and mask his emotions because Phil sighed and grabbed Dan's hand over the counter.

"I'm not mad at you. Is that 'the guy' from earlier—the asshole Steve you were telling me about?"

The feeling of Phil's thumb dragging over Dan's knuckles was normally so soothing, but Phil had grabbed Dan's left one, also known as the hand that Dan had aggressively burned earlier thanks to his wonderful coworker. Hissing under his breath as Phil's gentle touch sent pain shooting up his arm, Dan withdrew his hand hastily. Phil looked hurt and surprised, but his gaze fell on Dan's burned hand and his gaze once again darkened. Dan wanted to cry but instead just shut Phil down from asking about it by hastily replying.

"Yeah. Jaime's at an audition, so she's not in today."

The bell above the door ran once again, and Dan pulled away further, reluctantly ready to deal with more customers. However, Steve walked through the opening, and Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved at the prospect of not having to fill another order, or resigned to the end of his brief break from Steve.

Phil, however, brightened immediately and plastered on a fake smile.

"Ah, you must be Steve! Cool, Dan can take his lunch break now that you're back." And before Dan could try and tell Phil that that really wasn't how things worked, Phil was already reaching over the counter and stealing Dan's pin and apron, shoving them into Steve's arms with a bright smile. Steve sputtered, protesting, but Phil just straight up ignored him, turning to Dan and beckoning him. In a sort-of daze, Dan followed, and once he was out from behind the counter, Phil grabbed his non-burned hand and pulled him out the door of the coffee shop.

Phil gave Dan's hand a squeeze and looked back at him, his eyebrow once again knit and frowning. His eyes roved over Dan's frame, taking in his exhausted stature and overall ragged state of being. He frowned further and reached up, plucking the hat off of Dan's head.

"You shouldn't hide your hair."

Satisfied at the moment, Phil's attention shifted, and he hailed a taxi, opening the door for Dan and sliding in next to him, leaning up and telling the driver an address that Dan didn't quite hear before settling back into the seat. He draped his arm over Dan's shoulders and pulled the younger man into his side. Dan went willingly.

"Phil, where are we going? I'm still going to have to get back for the other half of my shift." He muttered, trying to will his body to relax.

"We're going home to my flat because you need a break. And don't worry, I'll have you back, but not after you get in some proper rest."

Dan tried to protest at that, because really, Phil didn't need to spend the money for a taxi just for a half and hour before Dan would have to go back, but Phil wouldn't hear it, just shushing him every time Dan tried to point out how they could have just stayed at the shop and that he wasn't worth the trouble.  

"There would be no way that you could properly relax while in the same place as him. And besides this saves me from getting arrested for assault and buying a coffee just to dump on his head." Phil glowered as if the mere thought of Steve upset him, and Dan laughed, imagining passive Phil dumping a coffee on anyone.

"Don't laugh, someone has to defend your honor, Dan."

"Well thanks for assuming I have honor, you spoon," Dan laughed, bumping their shoulders together playfully. He still felt tired and drained as hell, but Dan felt a little bit better than he had been. Progress.

They were at Phil's flat in no time, Phil paying for the taxi despite Dan's protests and leading Dan up the steps afterwards.

Phil's flat was just as it was when Dan had last been in, and Dan kicked his shoes off at the door like he had last time before flopping face-first on the couch. He heard Phil move around in the flat for a few moments before Phil returned to the lounge. Dan didn't lift his head up from where it was shoved into the couch, but he did relax, even as Phil rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I see your hand? I have a bandage and some cream that should help you."

Dan wordlessly lifted his hand up, unsure of where Phil was standing over him since Dan was trying very hard to become one with the couch at the moment, but Phil just grabbed his hand by the wrist as gently as possible, leading it over and resting it palm down on Phil's knee. Curious, Dan unburied his head from the cushions and turned it. Phil was sitting on the table, a look of careful and intense concentration on his face as he grabbed the tube of cream, squeezing some out onto his fingers and massaging it into Dan's skin. It didn't hurt—Phil was too gentle for that—but Dan could still feel his face heating up and his breath catch a little.

It had been awhile since he had been treated like something precious.

He watched as Phil worked, and laughed as Phil rubbed the excess cream on his fingers onto his jeans with a grimace. Phil grabbed the little roll of gauze and started to wrap up Dan's hand, glancing up with a pout.

"Here I am, sacrificing my jeans to make you feel better and you're laughing at me. Remind me why I love you."

The comment was a passing thought, obviously not meant to be taken with too much weight, but it still had Dan's heart skip a what was probably a few beats in his chest. He knew that Phil didn't mean it like that, but the notion that he did still warmed Dan's body all over and had him smiling as he watched Phil bandage his hand.

When Phil was finished, he dropped a kiss onto Dan's knuckles.

"There we go, all better."

Phil left everything on the table and stood, walking out of his lounge and to his kitchen. Dan could hear him shuffling about—opening cabinets and rifling through the contents in his fridge.

"I've been putting off a trip to Tesco's for about a week now, so how does unhealthy snacks sound for lunch? Or we could always venture out and try to find something?"

Dan smiled even though he was alone in the lounge. Phil was offering up the opportunity to have a legitimate meal, but didn't he know by now that Dan would much rather hole up and eat junk, just the two of them?

"Bring on the snacks, Lester."

Phil came back with an armful of various snacks, and Dan peeled himself up off the couch so Phil didn't have to sit on top of him. Dan cheered when he saw that Phil had his favorite flavor of crisps and stole them from Phil with a wide grin. Phil pouted—or at least tried to—but Dan could see the smile peeking out as he turned on the TV. Phil flipped through the channels until they found a movie on that was worth watching for the little bit of time that they had until Dan had to get back to work, and settled back, sneaking a few crisps from Dan while he was at it.

They're sides were pressed completely together with how they were sitting, and even if he ended up getting a few stains on his shirt because he couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a napkin, or whining when Phil dragged him out of the flat and back to work, or pouting in the taxi ride back to the coffee shop, Dan was still soaking up all of Phil's time and attention, loving having him near enough to hold his hand and kiss him.

Dan ignored the glare from Steve as he walked back behind the counter, even shooting the guy a smile as he fitted the hat back on over his hair.

"You can take your lunch break now, thanks for covering."

Steve looked insanely suspicious and overall pissed, but Dan didn't care. His spirits were renewed and he felt refreshed. He could last the rest of his shift, no problem.

Dan smiled at the lady walking up to the register.

By the time that his feet had brought him to the door of his apartment complex, he felt squeezed, as if he was being pushed into a mold that he couldn't fill.

Dan kicked off his shoes and left them haphazardly by the door as well as missing the hook on the wall for his jacket, but not even bothering to pick it up from the floor. He would probably end up tripping over his mess later and regret not fixing it, but he couldn't give a rat's ass at the moment.

He stripped himself of his clothes once he got to his bedroom and dragged a pair of pajama bottoms over his legs and a loose shirt with a wide cut that sometimes slipped over his collarbones, but was comfortable.

Dan resisted the urge to flop into his bed right then and there—he was exhausted—and kicked his dirty clothes out of the way as he walked back out of his bedroom. Dan might want to just curl up in a ball at cease to exist at the moment, but he would hate himself a lot more later if he didn't even try and perform some kind of personal hygiene. And brushing his teeth would go a long ways in the direction of un-fucking tomorrow morning. Or later this morning, actually.

He flicked on the light and just blinked a few times to adjust to the bright-as-hell fluorescent bulb he had for some godforsaken reason. When he looked in the mirror, however, he nearly dropped the toothbrush in his hand and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. He was staring at his reflection, mouth open, eyes wide, and he could see the shock on his face, but he also wasn't paying much attention to it because his hair, jesus christ.

It wasn't like Jaime's hair, which was practically neon because her hair had been bleached while Dan's hadn't, but it didn't seem to matter as much as Jaime had thought, because it still looked good. His hair was curly due to not being given a chance to straighten it after Jaime had washed the dye out, but his normally brown curls were replaced by midnight-ish blue ones. Dan ran a hand through it, still in a bit of disbelief. When Jaime had finished with his hair, he hadn't looked in a mirror or asked for a picture. Instead, they had just rubbed a towel on Dan's hair to keep it from dripping and fell on the couch, where they talked and cried and laughed for a little bit. Dan stared at his reflection for a few moments, feeling time tick by with the beat of his heart.

Then, he laughed, the sound bubbling up from his throat as he tugged lightly at his curls. His blue curls. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally, but he was smiling ridiculously at his reflection and laughing; it didn't make too much sense to him.

"Maybe I'm finally losing it," he muttered, looking for the toothpaste in the cabinet that hung above his sink.

A few minutes later after removing the gross feeling of his mouth and playing with his hair a little more, Dan crawled into bed, the need to rest sinking deep into his bones. He rolled over and grabbed his phone on the nightstand where he had left it when he was getting dressed. Dan plugged it in, and when the screen lit up in its normal fashion whenever it was charging he couldn't help but see the several text notifications he had.

Frowning, Dan unlocked the phone and clicked on his messenger app, which promptly showed texts from Jaime and...Phil.

Biting his lip, Dan clicked on Jaime's name. Her text was short and sweet and completely to the point, but Dan still couldn't help the warm feeling that blossomed from his chest. He typed out a reply and sent it.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

i took u off the schedule for work later today

so dont worry abt coming to work kay? and

take some time out for yourself alright? u

deserve a break

>>To: my maraschino cherry

tysm jaime i'll make it up to u, promise

<333

Her little three bubbles popped up immediately, and he nearly started crying at her reply, that's how fragile he was at the moment.

>>From: my maraschino cherry

<333

Really. A typed out heart had no reason to pull at his heart so much. It wasn't fair.

Dan backed out of he and Jaime's text conversation, and he was confronted with Phil's waiting texts, blinking up at him seemingly angrily. His thumb hovered over the screen and Dan's heart was pounding in his ears. He tried to imagine what Phil had texted him, and how much he had apparently felt so strongly about it, for there were eleven texts from the one and only Phil Lester.

He's probably telling you that he doesn't want anything thing like that from you anymore, and how you're a fucking freak, idiot. What else would he or anyone else have to say?

Dan swallowed thickly and clicked the screen off, dropping the phone on his nightstand like it had burned him. He could deal with it tomorrow.

~~~~~

Dan slept fitfully, tossing and turning and barely being able to stay unconscious for an hour. His dreams weren't helping matters, either. He kept having nightmares over his ex-girlfriend, snarling at him in disgust after he had tried to explain it. He kept seeing that afternoon, Dan sitting on her bed, she standing over him, her mouth moving, her words booming from the walls, the ceiling, the floor, rattling inside Dan's eardrums and taking a sledgehammer to his heart. Except, her voice and face were Phil's. And then before Dan knew it it was Phil, telling him everything he had been trying to convince himself wasn't true since...well, since everyone he knew told him it was.

Freak.

Unnatural.

Confused.

After a handful of hours of the back and forth that he just couldn't stand anymore, Dan crawled out of bed at around noon, only a few hours of collective sleep in his system. He stumbled into his kitchen, his duvet bunched around his body. Dan grabbed the box of cereal he had on his counter and just shuffled into his tiny lounge, dropping himself onto the sofa immediately and sighing as he settled into his sofa crease. Dan flicked on Netflix and opened the box while he was waiting. He stuffed a fist-ful of dry cereal into his mouth as he flicked through his options. Thank god for reality TV, Dan thought as he selected some new Netflix original, and thank god for people with just as shitty lives as mine having a TV crew to record it.

Several hours and numerous episodes of his show later, there was a knock on his door.

Dan was curled up in a ball on his couch, his monochrome duvet still wrapped tight around his body like a cocoon. The box of Crunchy Nut had fallen to the floor close to an hour ago, and Dan didn't care. He hadn't even really eaten much of it anyways.

After a few seconds, the knock sounded again, just as insistent and obnoxiously loud as before. Damn, don't they know that some people are trying to mope, Dan humorlessly thought, craning his neck to look at his front door.

It returned, but this time it sounded as if whoever it was was using their fist to pound at the door. Dan groaned and cursed the inevitable determined-as-hell salesman at his door. He dragged himself to his feet and thought about shedding his duvet to keep the remaining shred of his dignity intact, but with the pounding having yet to stop, he threw the thought out the goddamn window. What the fuck did he have to lose?

The noise continued, refusing to let up even for a moment, and Dan once again wished that whoever was behind the door would go jump off a damn cliff.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Dan shouted, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob after sliding back the lock and yanking the door open. His mouth was already open to lay into whoever it was, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

Phil was standing there, incredibly close to the doorframe, his hand still raised to continue trying to beat Dan's door in. His breathing was slightly irregular and his eyes were wide, hair in a complete disarray. Phil was in his Tesco employee uniform, but it was rumped as hell as if he was coming straight from one of his shifts.

"Dan," Phil breathed. He sounded so so relieved, but the relief was dripping with a thousand other emotions tangled together, and there was no way that Dan could try and pull them all apart.

Phil swallowed, and flicked his eyes over every inch of Dan—his eyes, his hair, his lips, his shoulders, his partially hidden legs, his feet, everywhere. Reflexively, Dan knew that his skin should be crawling, but the feeling never came, and Dan realized a second later that it was because Phil's gaze wasn't looking for anything like that. It wasn't that kind of hungry. It drank in the sight of Dan like he was never going to be able to again. And Dan didn't know how it made him feel.

"I need to talk to you." Phil said, finally snapping out of it and looking Dan in the eyes. He sounded desperate, and his blue blue eyes were pleading.

Dan's heart was pounding and he wanted to say no just as much as he wanted to say yes. He didn't trust his mouth, and for once he managed to keep it clamped shut. Last time he and Phil had been together and how he had just blurted it out was enough proof. So Dan just stepped back and let his front door swing open a fraction of a degree more than it had been a few seconds ago. Magically, a massive amount of tension melted off of Phil's shoulders and he stepped through the opening and into Dan's flat.

He closed the door, and at this point, Dan's anxiety was in full swing, starting to wreak havoc in his head. Dan just clutched his duvet tighter in his hands and let his shaky legs take him back into the lounge. He sat on the couch, and Phil sat himself down too, on the opposite side. Dan stared at the stitching in the fabric on his cushions, and he could feel Phil's gaze on him. They were both silent.

"If you're going to yell at me, just do it, please," Dan whispered. He didn't lift his eyes.

"Yell at you? Why would I ever?" Phil said immediately. He sounded appalled.

"Running out, kissing you, being, well, me," Dan said, his right hand emerging from his duvet to gesture to himself, "among others. I've certainly given you enough reasons, I'm sure."

Phil didn't say anything, and Dan just sank lower and lower in on himself.

"Dan I...where did you...why would you think I would yell at you?"

Dan shrugged.

"That's what everyone does." The when I tell them I'm asexual was left unsaid, but Dan had the feeling that Phil understood.

Dan was expecting virtually anything at that moment, but in normal Phil fashion, Phil surprised him.

"Dan, did you see my texts earlier?"

"No…?" Dan said, his confusion making him look up. Why the hell did a few texts matter right now? Phil didn't even meet his gaze, he was standing so fast, practically jumping off the couch and looking around.

"Where's your phone?"

"In my bedroom but why do you—Phil!"

Phil took off right down the hallway, looking left and right for Dan's bedroom and finding it, disappearing for a few seconds before re-emerging and marching straight to where Dan was still sitting. Phil shoved the phone towards Dan after he sat back down.

"Unlock it, please."

"Phil, I-"

"Dan, please."

Helpless to the desperation and unfacilitated emotion in Phil's voice, Dan robotically tapped in the five-digit passcode he had on his phone. It unlocked and Phil grabbed the phone back, tapping a few times in quick succession.

"Phil, what-"

Phil just pushed the phone right back into Dan's hands. On the screen, Phil's texts were pulled up. Once again, Dan tried to speak, but Phil just cut him off.

"Dan, read them, please for the love of god read the fucking texts." Eyes wide, Dan looked down at his phone.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please come back

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan? Where are you? Are you safe? Please

tell me you're alright.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

Dan please I'm worried sick

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

It's really late right now, 3am actually, and

you left hours ago but damnit Dan I haven't

been able to focus on anything since you

left. I cant even sleep.

Im worried abt you and want nothing more

to talk to you right now but you arent answering

your texts and I cant even really blame you

you looked so scared when you blurted out

that you were asexual I wanted to cry FOR

you

And you being asexual is okay! Believe me, I

promise I have no prob with it, I would be a shitty

person if I did, and all of the people out there that

DO have a prob with it are shitty

But Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, I really wish you hadn't

run out on me, you know? oh, well I guess you

dont know, thats why you ran out huh...well

whenever you read this, you'll know

There is not one part of I, Philip Michael Lester,

that gives a shit if you are asexual. You are you

and to be frank I wouldnt have you any other way

than how I know you. Youre asexual. Okay. The

only thing that has changed is my level of

understanding of you bc now I just idk know more

abt you

Youre funny and sarcastic and cynical and insanely

kind even tho you have that big bad exterior and you

have a goddamn heart of gold Dan, and since things

are potentially already fucked between us, I'm just

gonna come right out and say it - I'm fucking head

over heels for you, Dan, every part of you, and YES

that means the asexual part of you too so dont even

try and let your head tell you otherwise

Like I said I've fallen so hard for you, okay? When we

kissed i stg it was like a daydream of mine coming true

right before my freaking eyes, Dan. Youre someone

truly incredible and goddamn i would love to be a part

of your life, as sex free as freaking possible in any way

you would have me.

This got really long and I hope youre not responding bc

youre sleeping but Dan please call me whenever you

read these okay? I dont want you to think that I could

hate you or anything bc of your sexuality bc that couldnt

be further from the truth

Dan looked up from the phone screen, and he could feel the streams of tears on his face. He hiccuped, and Phil had tears in his eyes as well, and such a pained look on his face.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice tight. Dan nodded hurriedly, and Phil wasted no time, scooting forward and instantly wrapping his long arms right around Dan, pulling him into his lap. Dan started to sob, and Phil clung to him.

"I don't find you disgusting, or shameful, or wrong, or broken, or anything, Dan, anything but who you are. You're asexual and you're you and I would never, never, want you to be someone else. I'm so sorry you had to hide. I'm so sorry you got scared and I fucking hate whatever and whoever made you so terrified to be yourself." Phil said, sniffling himself. "Please believe me, Dan." Phil whispered. Dan nodded, his head pressed against Phil's shoulder. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth wasn't working and his brain had shut down and he was crying.

Phil held him as he cried, almost just like how Jaime had been holding him not too long ago. And when the tears stopped, Phil just continued to rub Dan's back. They didn't say anything, and part of Dan was grateful for that, but the other part of him wanted to try and tell Phil a thousand things at once. His brain was stuck like a broken record player, a mantra of Phil Phil Phil bouncing around his skull. He was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, Phil didn't hate him, he didn't.

And in that moment, Dan was reminded of the ghosts of his past. And he wanted to tell. He suddenly craved spilling it all out for Phil, leaving himself bare and open and pushing all of the secrets Dan has held inside of him for so long out in the open.

"It started with my ex."

Dan felt Phil shift his position underneath him but Phil didn't let go of Dan once. He took a deep breath and continued. "She and I had been friends, and we eventually started dating. It was nice, and she was great, real lovely and sweet and kind. We went on a few dates and held hands and kissed a few times—all that stuff. We started going steady, and seven months in and a few times of trying on her end, she convinced me to have sex with her." Dan said, starting to pick at a string on his duvet. "I did it mainly because I wanted to make her happy, and because I thought that I always felt so off about sex due to never having it. I didn't know that something like asexuality existed. I didn't like it, hated it in fact, and by the end of it, I was trying to balance a panic attack. I ended up leaving after a few minutes to 'clean up'," Dan made little quotes with his hands, "but when I got to the bathroom I threw up and panicked."

Dan stopped and licked his lips. He hated reliving it, but at the same time he wanted to talk about it with Phil, he wanted Phil to know everything about him. God, Dan was even confusing to himself.

"It was my first time, but I don't think it was hers, and after I came back we cuddled and watched some movies and stuff. She didn't seem to realize that anything was wrong. After that sex became something normal in our relationship. She would always initiate it, and I would never say no, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this time would be the time when my head and my body got the message that I was supposed to like this. But it never happened and months passed and I just kept getting more and more depressed and anxious. I started making up excuses to get out of it, and when she called me out on it, claiming that I didn't love her anymore, I told her that I was asexual. I wasn't really confident in my label because I had found it only for a few weeks at that point, but after I kind of explained how I hated sex with her and felt disgusting and threw up and was so so anxious, she got quiet. And then…" Dan swallowed, "and then she started yelling. She told me that I was lying, that there was no thing such as asexuality, and that I was just making stuff up at that point. She said...a lot of other stuff too."

"Can I ask what?" Phil said, his voice just as much of a whisper as Dan's. It wavered, and there was something tight and emotional in it. Dan nodded.

"After I kept trying to convince her that I was asexual and that it was real, she changed tactics. She broke up with me on the spot and told me that I was a freak and that there was something wrong and broken with me. She told me that no one would ever love me if I didn't give anyone sex. That I could just...die alone and 'like I should'. She said that too, the whole, 'like I should' thing. And then she kicked me out of her house and told me she never wanted to see me again."

When Dan finished, Phil moved his hands to Dan's shoulders and tugged gently, pulling Dan's head away from the crook of Phil's neck that it had been resting in. He was frowning heavily.

"You don't believe that, right?"

Dan shrugged. He didn't know how to tell Phil the truth, but he was sure that Phil could see how he was blinking back tears. Fuck, his past hurt.

Phil's frown just got deeper, and his head jerked, as if he had wanted to move it forward but decided against it at the last moment.

"Promise me you'll deck me if I make you uncomfortable, okay?"

"Phil?"

"Just promise."

"Okay…" Dan said warily. Phil nodded, and leaned forward, kissing Dan's forehead.

"You aren't a freak."

Phil's lips moved to Dan's temple.

"You aren't broken."

His cheek.

"You aren't wrong or unnatural."

A kiss on his nose.

"No one that actually matters wouldn't love you just because you're ace."

Dan's other cheek.

"And you won't die alone because you don't 'deserve' that."

Phil pulled back fully, and fuck, Dan felt like he could start crying again. Phil rubbed his thumb over Dan's cheekbone, the rest of his hand cupping Dan's jaw, and Dan leaned into the touch.

"Was she the only one you've ever told?"

"No, I told you, and Jaime, and my parents. All of my friends and schoolmates found out too, but I didn't tell them. She told them."

Phil frowned.

"Did none of them seriously accept you?"

Dan laughed humorlessly. "No, not one. From then on I was the laughing stock of the whole fucking school. A teenage boy who throws up after sex? Pathetic. I was asking for all of the assholes that picked on me afterwards. And it's not like I have the best track record with people actually thinking that I'm not, you know, a freak. My mum started crying after I told her, like I had just said I was dying from some terminal disease. And my dad straight up threw me out after he was through screaming at me. I ended up sneaking back in after they had gone to bed to grab a bag full of stuff and all of the money I could carry, so I wasn't that bad off, but it took me a few days to move down here and find a place to stay." Dan gestured to the flat they were in. "I then got the first job I could find, which was the one down at the coffee shop and I met Jaime, thank god. Thankfully I told them after I had finished school, though I didn't get the chance to go to uni like I planned. Two years later, I'm still in the same spot I crashed in." Dan's voice was raw and there were a few tears making their way down his face, but Phil would just wipe them away with his fingers.

"How long has Jaime known?"

"Not very. Last night after I ran out on you I ended up at her place and broke down and told her. She accepted me, don't worry, and we ended up crying in her kitchen together. It's also where she and I did this," Dan said, pointing to his hair. Phil smirked and ran his fingers through it.

"I noticed the hair, believe me, it was one of the first things my eyes went to when you opened your door. I just had much more pressing things to try and hopefully work out with you than your sudden hair change."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Phil said, his hand once again dragging its way through Dan's curls that he had yet to tame. Dan melted into the contact and felt his body relax, sighing happily.

"This is okay, right?"

Dan nodded, still feeling very content with Phil's hands raking through his hair.

"Mhm, definitely. Kissing, hugging, cuddling and all that is okay because none of it is sex. And god playing with my hair is at the top of the list." Dan blurted out. He felt his face grow red instantly from his confession, and Phil laughed.

"Guess I know your kryptonite, then. Though Dan, I have another question, if you don't mind."

Dan's stomach dropped and he felt fear crawl up his spine no matter how much he couldn't help it. It was his gut reaction and Dan suspected that he would still need quite a while to get over it.

"Ask away."

"Did you get any sleep last night because I also noticed your horrendous eye bags."

Dan gasped and shoved Phil's shoulder, who started to giggle, a hand coming up in front of his mouth. Dan tried to keep up his annoyed charade, but his face cracked into a smile in no time and then he was laughing right along with Phil, the tense air that had been between them ever since Phil showed up to his door dissipating into something much more natural and much more...them.

"Okay okay, but seriously, Dan you look bloody exhausted."

"And? You don't look that much better, Philly." Dan rolled his eyes, but Phil just poked him. "Oi. I slept a little before I went nuts texting you, and then I got a handful of hours in after too. How about you, huh?" Phil poked Dan again.

"Fine, if you must know, I think I got a few in total, but I don't know, exactly. I had trouble staying asleep and well, I gave up after a little." Dan said, shrugging.

"Dan!"

"What? I was distressed! I deserve a free pass!" Dan cried. The playful attitude between them was still there, which Dan was grateful for. Phil hummed and wrapped his arms back around Dan, but he used their combined body weight to roll back. Dan was laying on top of Phil like this, and Phil's arms were still around him.

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I like it. Now sleep. You need it."

"Phil I can't just sleep on demand like that."

"Yes you can, now shush, and sleep."

"Phil!" Dan whined, squirming a little but not trying very hard to break free of Phil's grasp. "What if I'm not tired? And besides, don't we still have to talk about stuff? Like us—if there is an us—and maybe me if you have other questions still, or-"

"Shhhh" Phil said, pressing a finger to Dan's lips. "We're not talking about anything else until you get some sleep, Dan." Phil said. Dan rolled his eyes, but he also sunk into Phil's embrace. It felt nice to be held.

They fell into silence, but it was comfortable and familiar. Sooner than Dan might have liked to admit, he started to feel his eyes droop, his exhaustion from the past two days catching up with him.

"Sleep, Dan," Phil whispered, one of his hands playing with Dan's hair, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was awake, shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the fuck was he?

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very human sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream. What the fucking hell-

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one.

What the goddamn hell-

Oh.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out.

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain whatever this was.

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner.

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the fuck had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but still as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable.

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still.

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a welcome change.

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much better. If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

~~~~~

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open.

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was alone on said sofa.

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore.

Did he leave?

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground.

"Phil?"

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling.

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide.

"Dan! You scared me!"

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really."

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-"

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of my cereal?"

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him.

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch."

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!"

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened after. Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil?

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities.

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

He had to know.

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation.

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head.

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's.

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration.

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely melting under the kisses Phil was giving him.

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw.

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles.

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we certainly should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you deserve. If we were to date—and god, do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd never be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care. I don't care. I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you can love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long."

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together.

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own.

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man sooner?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but fuck it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt. So. Loved. And. Accepted.

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere.

Phil's entire face lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other.

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

~~~~~

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately.

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

Jaime only scowled deeper in response, sticking out her pierced tongue.

“You should take that out,” Dan said. “Health and Safety. Plus, you don’t want to scare the grandpas with your metal appendages”.

Jaime snorted. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. Leave my life. Goodbye. Ciao."

"Fine, then I guess you'll have to dye your hair by yourself. And gee, who are you going to talk to during your shifts? Steve? God, I think he’d have to take up my shifts, which puts the two of you together almost all the time," Dan said, walking away, trying to keep the grin out of his voice. He wasn't very successful, however, but then again, he hadn't actually tried very hard, either.

Jaime threw a cloth at him. It landed on his face, then fell to the ground.

“Health and Safety!” Dan screeched. “Is that floor mopped?”

She just rolled her eyes. "I've managed the first eighteen or so years of my life before you decided to jump in just fine without you, so go ahead, take your lanky ass outside along with your 'I'm getting off of work early' bullshit."

"Ahhh, the truth reveals itself," Dan tsked, shaking his head. “Jealousy is a sin, you know.” He was playing with her, and she knew it, but that didn't stop Dan from pulling out all of the stops, really hamming up his performance. He grabbed the keys off of the counter and walked to the glass entrance door, unlocking it and flipping over the sign to read: open.

Jaime was sitting on the counter, her arms crossed and that fake scowl of anger still on her face. Dan just pushed at her back, forcing her off.

"Come on, Grumps, we've got a job to do."

"We? What do you mean with that 'we'? You're the one leaving here early, Danny boy, so you get to do all the work this morning; it's only fair."

This time Dan was the one that scowled and Jaime just smirked, tapping his nose.

"Come on stupid, turn that frown upside down; Mary's about to walk in."

Dan sighed, drawing it out as much as possible, but immediately snapping out of it and throwing a smile on his face when he heard the bell chime on the store's door.

Mary was a sweet old lady that was at least in her 80's, and she always came into their coffee shop within the first few moments that they were open, everyday, without fail. She had the most acute sense of style, typically rocking your usual old lady jumper and pants, but every single day she had a different broach on. And before her, Dan hadn't even known that people wore broaches anymore. But nope, it appeared that Mary had no cares for which way fashion swayed, not to mention that she must have her own infinite supply of them to have a different one every day. Did she have some kind of broach dealer? Was that a thing?

Dan didn't really know the answer to that question, but she was incredibly kind and had pretty much adopted him and Jaime as her grandchildren, so Dan just made sure to compliment her on her choice of style.

She shuffled up to the counter, her usual smile already radiating even though it was way too fucking early for anyone to be doing anything instead of sleeping in Dan's opinion.

(Today her broach was a yellow-ish metal, an intricate flower melded into it. It looked like lavender.)

"Hello, love, how are you today?"

"Oh, hello, Mary. And I'm tired, but I'm doing fine, thank you." Dan said. He had already started making her coffee. She ordered the same thing every time.

"Tired? Daniel, what did I say about staying up late on the internet? You're a growing boy! You need your sleep!" she cried. Dan smiled, not missing how she called him 'Daniel', but it wasn't like Dan minded it, coming from her. She was like the grandmother Dan never had. Maybe that was why he liked her using his full name even if his nametag said 'Dan'. It was more personal.

"Sorry, Mary, it's a bad habit, I know. I'll break it one of these days, I promise."

"Hmm, will you, Daniel? I feel like you say that to me every morning." Mary wagged a finger at Dan as if to admonish him, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Dan shrugged, but his smile only got wider. He handed Mary her coffee (with extra milk) and she looked over next to Dan, where Jaime was leaning on the counter a little bit in the back.

"Jaime dear, tell me, you must do everything around here with how tired this boy is all the time, don't you?"

Dan and Jaime both laughed, and Jaime shook her head, taking a few steps forward, knocking her shoulder into Dan.

"Sometimes it certainly feels like that."

Mary paid for her coffee (they charged her half price and took turns covering the rest—but they'd never tell her) and she stayed for a few moments to talk with them. After telling Dan that he "better go to sleep earlier tonight" or he would be hearing from her, and telling the both of them to have a lovely day, she shuffled back out, her broach still sparkling and drawing on-looker's eyes.

After Mary's visit, things always took somewhere between a fifteen minutes and a half hour before business really started to go anywhere, but today was different, and almost immediately after Mary left the store people started to come in, which both Dan and Jaime inwardly frowned at. Neither of them wanted to be here at the moment—not that they ever wanted to be here—and the prospect of getting some time to slack off and just fool around together in an empty store had been alluring.

But duty calls, apparently.

The first hour passed in a bit of a blur of overweight white CEO's trying to get their caffeine fix, early-morning joggers trying to recuperate their systems, and random small groups or duos walking in, meeting for coffee and chatting at the tables.

After that, things slowed down a little, and Dan was able to slide his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen, checking the time. Or that’s what he said to himself: there was a clock right in front of his face. He was just making excuses, at this point. Checking his phone every second like he had a crush—pathetic.

His notifications  were empty, minus a reminder he had set a while ago so he didn't forget to pay his rent. A reminder that he needed reminding about, apparently. Damnit. Hopefully his landlord would let him off.

Dan frowned a little at the lack of a Phil-shaped notification, but slipped his phone away. He couldn't help but glance at the door, even if there was no one walking in at the moment.

Phil had said he'd come today, right?

Dan at least hoped that he'd pop in for the doughnut he forgot before Dan's uncharacteristically short shift was over. Partly, because he didn't trust Jaime being alone with Phil at all. Partly because, well…

The little bell above the entrance to the shop dinged, and with it, Dan's head snapped up. Damn what kind of timing was—oh.

A customer had walked in, yes, but it wasn't who Dan wanted to see right now. It was some guy he had never seen before and his young daughter, not a tall weatherman who happened to like caramel macchiatos.

Dan helped them with their drinks, and even gave the girl a handful of extra marshmallows in her hot chocolate because Dan was weak for little kids with toothy grins, apparently.

The flow of customers slowed down further, and soon the crowds were gone, leaving the usual mid-morning lull, only a select few of the tables occupied. The windows were steamy after this morning's productivity, and the glass case up front next to the register was no exception.

Dan dragged his finger down on his side of the glass, doodling without direction. Well, doodling was probably a generous term for what he was doing. It was more like scribbling, his finger tracing random lines and patterns in the condensation. He heard the bell chime again, and glanced behind him, to see where his best friend had found herself to be. Maybe she could take this order, and Dan could keep counting down the minutes until he was let out.

She wasn't behind the counter with him, but the one coffee machine was open, and looked like it was mid-clean. She was probably in the back grabbing more coffee, then.

Dan sighed, but managed to tear himself away from his empty entertainment only to—fuck.

Phil had just been the one to walk in—already walking up to the counter, actually—and when their eyes locked Phil smiled widely.

"Dan! I've come for my pastry, I just hope you haven't eaten them all, if I'm being honest.”

“It’s in his pocket. Or maybe he’s just glad to see you,” Jaime called loudly from the back, before Dan could even process what Phil had said. He felt his cheeks turn red. Fuck.

"Oh my god Phil I'm-"

But Phil was laughing, and there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks too. He waved off Dan's protests with a wide smile.

"Dan, Dan it's okay, I get it." Phil looked over Dan's shoulder. "Thanks for the clarification, Jaime!" he called, seemingly to not think twice about what Jaime had said. Dan, however, wasn't taking it in stride as well as Phil, evident by how enflamed his cheeks still were.

"So, um, you uh, want a coffee, right? ”

“No, I want your hand in marriage,” Phil deadpanned. Dan heard Jaime laughing. The corner of Phil's mouth started to upturn, and Dan's heart was stuttering in his chest. What a day this was turning out to be.

But two could play at this game.

“I might need to get the ring resized,” Dan said, "but I guess there's only one way to find out."

Phil blinked at him. “Wait, you-”

“Your hand, please.”

Phil did as he was told. Dan was certain he heard Jaime's sharp inhale of surprise all the way from the back. Dan held Phil's ring finger out. “Hmmm… might be a little small.”

“What are you-”

Dan extracted a bagel from the display, placing it onto Phil’s finger. “Oh! It fits beautifully!”

Phil blinked, but then he unfroze, his shoulders relaxing and little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes from his giggle.

“Has anyone told you that you’re really weird?”

Dan smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

"Well, I've certainly never been proposed to with a bagel before, maybe it is a bad thing."

Dan let Phil's hand drop and rolled his eyes, but a weird feeling in his chest begged his attention. It was unfamiliar. Dan ignored it.

"You can keep the bagel, if you want—I can't exactly put it back into the display case. And in all honesty, did you want a coffee? Or did you just want to pop in for your doughnut that you abandoned like a savage yesterday?" Dan asked, his hand hovering by the stacks of cups, waiting to see if he would be making another caramel macchiato for Phil today.

"Hey, I was trying to be a productive member of society and work, Daniel."

"Forgive me, then, Philip," Dan said. There was a little nervous voice in his head at Phil's uttering of his full name. No, not quite nervousness, it was something, that was for sure. But exactly what was a mystery to Dan.

So like any other obstacle Dan faced that he didn't know how to handle, he ignored it.  

“Wow, I can feel the sexual tension from here,” Jaime drawled, walking up next to Dan.

There it was. There it fucking was.

Dan snapped.

“Actually, Jaime can serve you,” Dan said, or rather, spat. He really didn’t mean to, but Jaime’s comment just—

“Dan?” Phil was saying, something soft and confused in his voice, “Did I do something?”

Dan pushed past Jaime and lifted up the divider that closed the counter off from the public, ignoring it all and shoving the Employee's only door open roughly, stepping into the break room. He needed a fucking break, that was for sure.

“Dan?” He heard behind him, just before the door swung shut.

Jaime this time. Dan ignored them both.

Sex. Why did it always have to end with sex?

Dan sunk into a chair, a shaky breath passing his lips, his head falling into his hands, the anger melting straight out of him, just leaving the sadness, the pain, the hurt.

Phil was probably confused as hell right now, and fuck it, Jaime would be too, but goddamnit Dan couldn't do this to himself.

Pull it together, pull it together, pull it-

A lump had formed rapidly in Dan's throat, and a black feeling had made itself home in his ribcage. He knew it well. Knew it better than himself, it seemed like, sometimes.

Loneliness, isolation, all based on the lack of feeling something that everyone else in the whole fucking world felt. Fuck, he couldn't do this, not here, not now. He had less than an hour before his shift was over and he could leave. He could mourn his lack of humanity then.

But god, was that just wishful thinking, because Dan's head seemed to become heavier than the world itself—there was no way that his neck could be able to lift his skull from where it was being cradled by his hands.

His eyes were wet, and god, just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it, he was fine. Peachy. It was a stupid comment made by his best friend that didn't mean anything. There were probably dozens of them made across the world every moment, so why the fuck did he have to care so much?

Salty tears were starting to slide down the curves of his wrist from where his palms were digging into his eyes.

Fuck, was it even worth lying to himself about anymore? Of the pretending? Of course he knew why he cared so much. Of fucking course he did. He didn't feel sexual attraction. He would never be able to be attracted to Phil that way (even if he was at all because he wasn't, Phil was a friend). There never would be "sexual tension" for Jaime to feel.

Never.

Because Dan was Dan, and a normal, happy ending just didn't seem to be in his fate.

Because Dan was ace.

Because he would never be attracted to people like that.

Because no one would ever want someone as broken as him who couldn't even feel correctly.

A muffed sob tore itself from Dan's throat, and it hurt. His body physically ached with the longing to be someone he was not and feel something he couldn't.

Fucking hell Dan, you fucking idiot.

Dan was gasping against his shaking fingers, tears clouding his vision. He gritted his teeth and groaned, digging his fingernails into his palms.

Jaime was going to come for him, most likely as soon as she could properly step away from the counter. If she saw him here, curled up on himself, crying over a stupid comment she made then she wouldn't take Dan telling her that "everything was fine" for an answer. He would be forced to tell her, and damnit Dan didn't want to ruin another relationship, especially one as important and meaningful to him as the one he had with Jaime. A memory surfaced of someone who had promised to love him.

"I can't believe this whole time you were a fucking freak and you didn't tell me. Asexual? God, Dan, that's just a fucking seven-letter cry for help."

Dan abruptly stood up and clenched his hands at his sides. There were tears still escaping his eyes and his breaths were still slightly hiccuped, but he just raised his chin and bit his lip. His shoulders were shaking but it didn't matter because he was fine.

He was doubtful that anything but his sheer force of will calmed his racing heart and his trembling body, but there was no part of Dan that cared nor was up for thinking about it. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera. His eyes weren't too red. Dan used the corner of his shirt to wipe away the tear tracks and ran his fingers through his hair to fix his straightened fringe. He looked at the time before hiding away his phone. He'd been in here for roughly ten minutes. It didn't feel that long, that was for sure.

Dan took another deep breath and grabbed the door handle, not opening it yet. He closed his eyes. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine.

He opened the door, wiping away all traces of his breakdown off of his face and replacing it with a mask that he wore well after years of use.

Jaime's head flicked immediately to Dan as he emerged, but she was in the middle of making a coffee, a queue of at least a half dozen people in front of her. She'd be busy for a little. Good.

Dan passed her, not saying anything, just reaching over the counter to grab one of the rags they used to clean up the self-serving bar and walking away. Dan took his time cleaning up the spilled sugar and milk, fixing up the various advertisements for their specialty drinks they sold, and refilling the straws and napkin dispenser even though they didn't really need it. The entire time he worked, his thoughts rolled and crashed like thunder in his head, pulling his train of thought this way and that and in every direction that it didn't need to go. By the time that Dan was finishing up, the whole thing was spotless and he only had about ten minutes before his shift was over.

"Dan?"

Dan jumped, not even realizing that someone was standing next to him, and he turned. Phil was a few steps away, a coffee cup in his hand, a remorseful look on his face. His shoulders were dropped and his eyes were sad, and overall it seemed as if all of the enthusiasm that Dan associated with Phil had been sucked out of him.

There was a pang in Dan's chest upon seeing Phil's happiness so curbed, especially when it was all Dan's fault, fuck.

"I just want to say I'm sorry for earlier, that's all. I-I shouldn't have joked like that, and I'm really sorry if I offended you or something, I swear I didn't mean to, Dan, but I'm sorry." Phil said, his voice soft, those blue blue eyes pleading.

For a moment, Dan just stared, but he blinked, coming out of his haze.

"Phil...it's not your fault I promise. It wasn't even you, actually." Dan raised a hand when Phil opened his mouth as if to protest. "Thank you for your apology, but like I said, it wasn't you. It was stupid, anyways. I shouldn't have reacted like I had." Dan was pouring everything he couldn't say into his eyes. It was fruitless to think that Phil would understand him, but even if it was in vain Dan would still do nothing but hope.

"Dan, if something upset you then it matters."

"Phil, I promise you this doesn't." I don’t.

Dan rubbed his face, sighing. He couldn't explain it to Phil. Phil would only despise him. When he pulled his hand away, Dan's eyes settled on Steve walking through the glass entrance in his work uniform. He was a few minutes early, but Dan was fine with that; he had to get out of here.

"Could I ask when your break is?" Phil said, the words pulling all of Dan's attention to him.

"What?"

"Like, um, you get a break, right? I was wondering when it was because I kind of wanted to talk with you like we always do, but there's a, uh, bunch of people in line and stuff and I don't want to bother you when you're working. Not that you have to spend your break with me! No, it was just a question, I-god, I'm making an embarrassment of myself." Phil groaned after stumbling through his attempt at an explanation.

Dan could still feel that black emotion in his chest, and like every single time that it decided to surface itself, he wanted to find his way to his bed and curl up and have a proper cry, but there was a sudden and tremendous internal outcry, his body and mind shouting don't leave me alone.

Phil didn't want to deal with Dan and his problems, however. That was fact for certain.

Yet, Dan still found his mouth opening and words spilling forth against his will. Mutiny. He wanted to scream. Why couldn't his own self let him self destruct in peace?

"I don't have a break today, actually. I'm leaving early."

"Oh?" Phil's eyebrows bent upwards, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Would you, maybe want to do something, then? You don't have to-"

"Phil," Dan said, stopping him, still in an internal turmoil, "that sounds perfect."

Phil smiled, a true and proper grin that lit up his whole face.

"When do you get off?"

"Now, actually. Wait here."

Dan didn't wait for an answer, but rather walked past him and up to the counter, putting the rag he had been using back where it went. Jaime must have heard him because she turned her head from where she was facing away from Dan, making a coffee, her eyes going wide, mouth opening. It hurt him to do so, but he kept going and ignored her for a second time today. He once again stepped through the Employee's only door, grabbing his jacket off of the hook on the wall. Steve was in there, but they only locked eyes for a second before Dan turned away. He slipped it on as he found his way back to where Phil was still standing, minus his coffee cup. He must have finished it.

"You sure about this, Dan?"

"Obviously, Lester. C'mon."

Phil was right in step with Dan, holding the glass door open for the brunet. Dan stepped through, feeling the cool breeze blow against his face and ruffle his hair. Dan felt Jaime's eyes dig into his back and his phone vibrated in his pocket, but Dan didn't pull it out. He knew it would he her.

He and Phil fell into step. They weren't talking at the moment, but the silence wasn't oppressive. It felt right. It felt like they were acknowledging everything.

Dan's head was still flooding, filled to the brim with things that he didn't want to think about, but at least it seemed like the rest of him was agreeing to spending some impromptu time with Phil.

"I think you need some cheering up. Are you okay with me taking you somewhere?" Phil asked, breaking the silence. They were a few blocks away from the coffee shop at his point, and Dan had just been blindly following Phil the whole time.

"Cheering up, huh?" He asked. The normal, quietly sarcastic edge had returned to his voice.

"Yeah. How about it?"

"Where would we be going?"

"A surprise."

Dan flicked his eyes to Phil, who was already looking at him. His eyes were intense, and Dan couldn't keep the gaze. He was too vulnerable to.

"Sure."

He didn't have to be looking at Phil to know that the man was smiling right now, and for some reason that put a little grin on Dan's face.

A surprise. He hadn't had one of those in a while.

They fell into easy conversation, Phil obviously leading it and choosing topics that would require Dan to listen more than actively participate. Dan was grateful for Phil's cheeriness and understanding, and as a bonus, he learned more about who he was walking with.

Phil had spent a large time at uni producing little self-made films before he had chosen to pursue meteorology because of a child-like love for the weather. He like to play video games and dreamed of getting a corgi one day. He was from up north. He hated cheese.

"You hate cheese? How can someone hate cheese?" Dan screeched, interrupting Phil. He couldn't help it. Not liking cheese? Was it possible?

"I don't know! It's just weird! It doesn't taste good and the texture isn't good and it's just ew." Phil said, pulling a face.

"Oh my god."

"Hey!"

"Do you eat pizza? Shit if you're one of those people that eats pizza without cheese then this friendship is cancelled."

"No, I love pizza, don't worry."

"But you hate cheese?"

"I never said I made any sense."

Dan was still giving Phil an incredulous look, and Phil snorted and shook his head. Dan was about to ask him if there was any other food out there that was such a blasphemy to hate that Phil disliked, but Phil's face lit up and he wrapped his fingers around Dan's wrist, dragging him over to the left.

"Here we are!"

In front of Dan and Phil was the Manchester Eye, a popular ferris wheel that Dan had yet to visit even if he had been living in Manchester for years now.

"The Manchester Eye?"

"Yes! Tell me you've been, because the view at the top is absolutely incredible. You can’t have bad thoughts when you're up that high and looking at something so beautiful; it's just impossible."

Impossible, eh? We'll see, Lester.

Phil was still holding onto Dan's wrist, and normally, Dan would have pulled away at the touch by now, but for whatever reason, he didn't. Phil led him into the line, dropping Dan's wrist when they had to buy their tickets. Dan reached for his own wallet, but Phil waved him away, refusing to let Dan pay.

"This is your surprise, so you don't get to pay for it."

They were ushered onto the ride by the attendant, and because there was no one else waiting, they didn't have to run the risk of being put with strangers.

Their conversation had died down, and neither of them tried to revive it, choosing to just stay silent. When they got to the top, however, Dan couldn't help but suck in a breath.

Calling views like this "breathtaking" were cliche and overused in Dan's opinion, but he didn't really know another way to describe it. Manchester was splayed out before his eyes and for the first time, Dan thought of the city as more than the hell hole that he lived in. It was almost something beautiful.

Phil was smiling when Dan turned to him, but Dan didn't really care.

"Oh my god, Phil, you were right. I can't believe I haven't been on this before." "Beautiful, huh?"

"Yeah."

Phil ended up walking Dan home, after that, and when Dan was standing in front of his apartment complex, waving goodbye to Phil, he couldn't help but wish that their day together had lasted longer.

And in reality, it had lasted much longer than expected. They had finally crossed the boundary of just seeing each other when Dan was at work, and even disregarding that, they took the long way around town just to keep talking.

Phil was much more fun to be around than Dan realized. He was more than just talkative like Dan originally thought, but he was sweet and caring and had the strangest mannerisms and personality, but it wasn't annoying, merely endearing. He was like the sun, and Dan had always been one to bask in warmth.

"Bye, Dan!" Phil called, walking away. Dan smiled.

"See you, Phil!"

He climbed the steps to his flat, hands in his pockets, still riding the wave that was being anywhere near Phil Lester and spending time with him.

In his flat, Dan kicked his shoes off and stripped himself of his jacket, pulling his work shirt over his head and leaving himself bare chested before falling back onto his couch. It was mid afternoon, but it already felt like midnight. Dan reached onto the floor where his jacket laid rumpled and fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it. He sent a quick text to Jaime, telling her not to worry and that he was fine, just tired, which was why he had reacted the way he had.

Twenty minutes later, he got a text, and Dan paused his game of flappy bird. He was surprised, however, to see that it wasn't a response from Jaime, but a text from Phil.

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!) dan look at this dog!!!!!

A second text came through instantly, a link this time. Dan clicked it, and twitter popped up, showing him a video of a cute labrador chasing bubbles. Dan laughed, scrolling up to retweet it, but one of the replies caught his eye.

AmazingPhil: 10/10 doggo content!!!

AmazingPhil? Dan clicked on the reply, and up came a twitter feed. Specifically, Phil's twitter feed. Dan started to scroll, finding himself laughing. Looks like Phil's twitter was just as enjoyable as he was in person.

Dan pressed the follow button before backspacing and opening his messages once again.

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!) i  would die for that dog wtf

Phil started to type immediately, and if Dan said he didn't smile, he'd be lying.

~~~~~

The next morning, Dan had to peel himself off of the couch after falling asleep there, in the midst of watching a movie. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. His neck was all bent and he could feel the sofa creases on his cheek.

Dan looked to the side, peeking out the window. The sky was overcast, but it didn't look too bad. Would it be a nice day?

Dan flicked on his television, flipping through the channels until he found a weather one. It wasn't Phil's, and for some reason, that made him keep searching.

Eventually, Dan stumbled across it, Phil's smiling face appearing right before Dan's. He was in the middle of telling the weather, pointing to one of the maps behind him.

"-and it looks like there's a small chance of rain today, so keep your umbrellas home today!"

Dan rushed through his shower after looking at the time, not wanting to be late for work. He barreled through his kitchen after running a straightener through his hair, shoving a handful of cereal in his mouth and pocketing his phone before running out his door. He'd have to run; he overslept.

When Dan opened the door to exit his apartment complex, however, it was raining. He groaned. The rain would give him hobbit hair and soak him through completely no doubt if he didn't get an umbrella.

Well, fuck.

By the time Dan ended up running back up to his flat, tracked down his umbrella, and practically fell down the steps, he was most certainly going to be late.

Small chance of rain my ass, Phil.

Dan started fast walking, the rain pelting his umbrella. He was grumbling to himself, but then an idea popped into his head, and he couldn't help the smile that came over his face. He posed for a picture, sure to include the rain all around him, composed a short caption, and sent it out to the internet before putting his phone away and picking up his pace to get to work.

He might be late, but goddamnit it wouldn't be by much.

He was on his lunch break and for once had decided to abstain from holing himself up in the break room. And okay, maybe it had something to do with Jaime letting him pick the music that played from the shop's speakers. But really, he was enjoying it much more than he had thought, even to the point of considering making it a habit. But it was still a consideration, mind you.

Dan scrolled through twitter, retweeting or liking some of the posts that caught his eye. He didn't know what time it was, but he knew that he had plenty of it; his break had just started.

"Wow, Dan, you look just like a cat basking  in the sun."

Dan jumped in surprise and snapped up his head from where it was staring down at his phone in his lap. Phil was sliding into the booth seat across from Dan, a smile on his face. He looked relaxed in a soft looking jumper and his glasses, hair done up in a quiff.

"Oh, hi," Dan said, lamely. He mentally berated himself, but tried to not let his awkwardness take center stage by ignoring it, praying Phil did the same. "It's been a while, Lester."

Phil snorted and took a sip of his coffee.

"A while? Dan it's been ages."

Dan laughed, and just like that, the air between them cleared and it was like they had restarted right where they had left off.

"Last time I saw you it was Wednesday, Dan. You're not allowed to be sick anymore, by the way. Thursday I had absolutely no one to talk to while I had my coffee, and I didn't even bother coming in Friday because I figured you wouldn't be here since you were so sick the day before. And then you're off on Saturday so I couldn't stop in then." Phil scoffed like the fact that he and Dan hadn't seen each other in a few days was a personal insult. And Dan really shouldn't have found the notion as cute as he had, and definitely not as endearing.

"So what? You'll only come in if I'm here?" Dan asked, a warmth in his voice and a grin on his face. Is Phil really that attached to me? Ha. For some reason, the prospect that Phil didn't know what to do with himself when Dan wasn't around just made Dan's smile spread wider.

Phil blushed, pink flooding to his cheeks and protesting weakly.

"No one else here makes my coffee the way that you do." He said, his face still pink and his bottom lip finding its way in between his teeth. Dan laughed.

"I'll make sure to rub the fact that I make the best coffee in her face later, then."

Phil hummed and brought the coffee cup in his hands up to his lips again for another sip. 

"How're you feeling, Dan?" Phil asked, pulled Dan from his thoughts.

"What?"

"How are you feeling? Like I know when I get sick I'm in this weird half-sick half-better stage for like a week afterwards; are you one of those people?" Phil said, his gaze returning to Dan's.

Dan nearly snorted.

Half-sick, half-better, huh? I think you mean my permanent state, Phil, Dan thought. He didn't dare think about saying it out loud though, no matter how often Dan seemed to just blurt things out. He had some self control.

Dan thought back to the past few days, to all of the hours melting together, a prisoner in his own mind. He saw himself laying in bed, not moving, just...just thinking, for lack of a better word. And really, it wasn't thinking at all, but self torture. Dan remembered the numbness that filled every part of his body, and how it had taken Jaime Friday and Saturday to finally pull Dan out of his own headspace.

Even today, it had taken him more time than usual to get himself out of bed and start his day. The world wasn't quite as vibrant, the smile on his face not quite as sincere, his depression still louder than normal. So yes, maybe he was in that half-sick half-better stage.

"Yeah, I would say I'm still somewhat sick." Dan finally settled with. He felt like he was lying with how vague he was being right now. But it was better than spilling about his dead mental health, right?

Phil frowned and reached forward so his palm was flush against Dan's forehead. Dan sputtered and felt his cheeks grow hot at Phil's cool touch. He ignored the heat on his face and tried to pass it off as nonchalance, hoping to god that Phil didn't notice.

"Stop fidgeting I'm trying to see if you have a fever."

"And what if I do? I'm at work so it's not like I can do anything about it." Dan said, determinedly not thinking very hard about how there would be no fever because Dan wasn't sick. Or at least, not like how Phil thought he was.

"Dan, if you have a fever you're going home even if I have to walk you back myself." Phil replied, seriously.

“Well what does my forehead say then, oh wise one?” Dan asked sarcastically.

Their eyes locked and something in Phil's glimmered. “Turbulence,” Phil said. “Conflict between what you want and what you need.”

“And what do I need?”

The hand was withdrawn. Dan missed it immediately.

“To be beaten at Mario Kart, of course.”

“Phil,” Dan said, laughing a little nervously. Once again, he tried to ignore what had just happened as best as possible, batting his eyelashes and trying to stay in step with whatever this was that they were doing. “At least buy me dinner first.”

"Okay." Phil said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Dan's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. He can't be serious. "We can swing by someplace before we get to my flat, or we can always order out." Oh my god he is serious.

"Besides," Phil said, with a sly curl of his lips, sipping at the coffee in his hand, "dinner is the least I could do.”

“Wait until you see me order a whole lobster. Your wallet will be crying.”

Phil’s eyes glittered. “Can you even get that delivered?”

“If you can’t, I’m quitting this job and setting up a lobster delivery service.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

Dan wanted to know why talking with Phil was so easy, so natural. The only person that Dan had ever connected this fast with before was Jaime. And even then, their banter hadn't developed this quickly.  

"Invite me to the wedding," Jaime called from where she was wiping down a few tables with the ratty—but clean—washcloth she and Dan were always using. Neither Dan nor Phil had noticed her working a few feet away from them, and both of their eyes widened in surprise. Phil, however, took it in stride much better than Dan, the look on his face softening to one of amusement.

Fuck, how didn't I notice her there?

Phil laughed while Dan's face burned, surely as red as the lobsters they had just been fantasizing about. In the back of his mind, Dan worried Jaime would turn this into something like that, something to do with sex, like last time. He prayed that she wouldn't. He wasn't interested in hiding his discomfort at the implication that he would be involved in any kind of sexual situation, and he certainly wasn't interested in trying to pretend that the thought didn't make him mentally revisit parts of his past that just tear into his heart.

Dan's head started to work in overdrive, all kinds of repressed memories surfacing. He pushed them all away. Happy. That's what he was feeling a moment ago. Time to get back to it.

"I'm sure Dan will let you be his bridesmaid."

"Hey!" Dan cried, snapping out of his dark thoughts. He reached over and wacked Phil's arm, who looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Who decided that I would be the wife in this relationship? You would be the housewife for sure."

Phil gave him a look and Dan heard Jaime's snort all of the way from where she was standing clear as day. If anything, it only made Dan's blush deepen.

"The both of you are absolute bullies. I'm calling friend abuse for crushing my dreams."

"Yeah, Howell, I'm sure that's one of your dreams." Jaime muttered, finishing up with the table she was cleaning. Meanwhile, Dan wanted to find a hole and die.

He didn't like Phil like that. Sure, he was handsome and good company and had really fucking pretty eyes, but that was it. Besides, Dan didn't date.

Phil thankfully didn't comment, though. He twisted around in his seat so he could see Jaime and held out his coffee cup, a pleading expression on his face.

"Jaime, could you refill my coffee please?"

Jaime sighed, but stepped forward and grabbed it, nodding. She turned to walk away, but Dan called out to her as well.

"Could you get me a drink too?" Dan asked. Then, as an afterthought, he added: "Please?"

"You work here, Howell, you know how to make yourself a drink," she said, cocking an eyebrow, a disapproving look on her face. Dan shrugged and gave her the best puppy-eyed look he could manage.

"But I'm on break. Please? I won't ask for anything else the rest of the day."

"We both know that's a lie, but sure, Danny-boy, I'll get you a drink."

"Danny-boy?" Phil asked, a smirk starting to form on his face. Dan groaned, putting his head in his hands and cursing Jaime.

"Don't you dare start calling me that too, Phil."

Dan brought his head up to find Phil looking at him with a downright mischievous glint in his eye.

"Don't you dare."

"Are you-"

"Don't."

"-sure-"

"Phil!"

"-Danny-boy?"

"Oh my god."

Phil started to laugh and Dan didn't miss how the tip of his tongue stuck out in between his teeth or how after a few moments of breathless giggling he brought his hand up to his mouth. Fuck. It was adorable.

"I don't think this friendship is going to work with this blatant betrayal, Philip. I shouldn't have to put up with this. Especially not if I'm supposedly going to have to deal with this while I destroy you in Mario Kart."

Phil had finally managed to pull himself under control, and he gave Dan a semi-sobered look, but Dan could still see the repressed jokes and sly remarks that Phil was just dying to make.

"Beat me, huh? I'll have you know that I'm the best out of all of my friends in Mario Kart."

Jaime returned, two drinks in her hands, sticking her tongue out at the both of them in the process of handing them over. Dan noticed that she had drawn little frowny faces on their cups and laughed.

"Well," Dan said, turning back to Phil who was clutching his warm coffee in between his palms, "you're definitely wrong on that one, mate." Dan took a sip—yes, Jaime added in extra sugar. The heat of the liquid didn't bother Dan's mouth though; he was too used to chugging back a sometimes-still-burning drink on a regular basis in a desperate attempt to combat his lack of sleep in the mornings.

There was still a little voice at the back of Dan's skull that nervously fretted at how this was possibly a bad idea, but really, for once his social anxiety wasn't overriding everything in his system, and Dan was positively living for it.

"You're going to have to wait until the weekend though, if that's alright. I've got to work a bunch of double shifts to make up for the pay I lost by missing work, so I'm not going to have time until Saturday. You free then?"

"Yeah, I'm free for the whole day after I do my weather segment."

Dan snorted.

"Sorry, I forgot you were famous, Phil, but I'm glad you're making time for us peasants."

~~~~~

"No! No no no!" Phil jumped up from the sofa, his fingers furiously working at the buttons on the controller in his hands. His body was tense and his mouth was open in a silent protest. Dan, meanwhile, was laughing on the sofa behind him, relaxed as hell, and enjoying how Phil was desperately trying to beat him in Mario Kart.

He didn't stand a chance; Mario Kart was Dan's game.

Too bad it had taken Phil this long to figure out that Dan hadn't been lying when he said he would crush him.

Dan's grin grew to an impossible width when he got another power-up.

"Phil, oh Phil, I'd just stop trying if I were you."

Phil made a sound of protest, but didn't dare take his eyes off of the screen.

Maybe Dan was enjoying this just a little too much, but really, Phil was terrible. It was unbelievably easy to have this much of a lead on him, and Dan was sure that if he had pulled out all of the stops, he would have stretched the gap between him and Phil even wider. Currently, Dan was in first, Phil in fifth. Part of the reason why Phil was so far back was because Dan kept messing with him, dropping back just to hit him with a shell or something similar, more times than not making Phil swerve, running into a wall. And while Dan would laugh and pull back in first, Phil would groan and shove Dan's shoulder, pouting.

Dan drifted around the corner, and used his power-up, increasing his speed and sending him flying over the finish line.

"Yes!" Dan shrieked, thrusting his controller into the air and nearly jumping from the couch. Phil cried out in protest, a hopeless "No!" pouring out from his lips as the game ended. He spun around, and Dan couldn't stop laughing, feeling it in his whole body.

"How are you so good?! That's got to be something like witchcraft."

"Maybe you're just that bad." Dan managed to squeak out in between bursts of his hyena laugh. Phil's face scrunched up and Dan tried to reign himself in, but really, Phil made it too easy.

"That was just a practice! I could totally beat you now that my fingers are warmed up." He grumbled, walking back to the couch where Dan was splayed out and lying down, his long legs reaching all the way to the other side. He started to move them, but before he really could Phil just picked up his ankles and lifted them up, sliding under them and sitting on the sofa. Phil let Dan's feet drop into his lap and looked up at the screen, already selecting another map.

(Dan ignored the beginning of a blush on his cheeks because all Phil did was touch his ankle he shouldn't be acting like this)

"Are you looking to be beaten for a second time?"

"Ha. In your dreams, Howell. I'm going to be the one beating you today."

Dan scoffed, but the effect was ruined because he couldn't stop smiling.

Phil turned his head and looked over at Dan, a wide grin on his face.

"You have a dimple."

"What?"

"Your dimple. I've never seen it before. It's cute."

"Oh." Dan said, and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks now. Phil didn't comment on it, just letting his attention fall back to the TV. However, Phil let his hands drop so they were resting on top of Dan's crossed ankles, the touch seemingly to burn through Dan's jeans.

Dan didn't say anything about it, or about how there was something new added into the atmosphere between them—something he couldn't quite place.

Phil finally selected a track and a new game started. Dan flicked his eyes to the screen as the game started to count down from three. When the horn went off, he sided right up to Phil's kart and drove him into a wall, a brilliant plan of attack forming in his head. Phil tossed Dan a dirty look but Dan just stuck his tongue out. Whatever had popped up between them in that little exchange a few moments ago was gone, for now.

~~~~~

Phil tossed his controller onto the floor and crashed back into the back of the couch, an arm falling over his face.

"I give up. You win. You bloody win, Dan, there's no way anyone can beat you."

They had been playing Mario Kart for over two hours now, and Phil hadn't come close to winning once. In fact, the closest he had gotten was a whopping third. And in hindsight, with Dan harassing him as he was, getting third was a decent enough achievement.

"I'm glad it only took you a million games of me handing you your own arse for you to figure it out, Phil."

"Oh shut it," Phil said, pulling his arm down to smack Dan's leg. He was smiling though, so Dan knew that he wasn't as annoyed as he let on. Dan let his controller fall to the floor and shifted down further into the sofa, wiggling his toes on Phil's lap. Phil pretended to gag.

"I hate to break up our little Mario Kart marathon, but you promised me dinner and I think my stomach is literally going to digest itself."

"That sounds painful." Phil said. His hands were on Dan's ankles again, but this time Phil's thumb was unconsciously tracing little patterns on the skin that was exposed there.

"Mhm."

"Where should we order out from then? There's a Indian place not too far away, or maybe the Chinese one a few blocks away? Something else?"

"Phil," Dan whined, "I thought I was promised lobster remember?" Dan said, trying to bring back the playful atmosphere that it was a few moments ago. Now...now there was something more.

"Dan, there's a reason why I have two jobs. Maybe in like, ten years I can get you those lobsters."

Dan sighed as if in disappointment, and nodded. "How about some Indian then, if we must."

Phil rolled his eyes and once again curled his fingers around Dan's ankles, lifting them up just like before and sliding out from under Dan's legs, getting up.

"I'll call us in something, wait here."

After the food was ordered and Phil had returned, he had just shifted Dan's body once again so he could sit before letting Dan's feet fall onto the tops of his thighs. Dan was too nervous to move them.

Instead of playing more Mario Kart, however, they decided to turn on a movie while they were waiting for their food.

When it arrived, Phil hopped up before Dan could and paid, bringing the bags back and putting them on the table. Dan sat up eagerly, his stomach growling at the smells wafting from what Phil was spreading out in front of them. They dug in, sitting close enough for their thighs to brush together, the movie playing in the background. Dan didn't really care if he was missing parts though; it was an old Marvel film they had both seen countless times before.

Dan let out a little noise of content when he finished.

"You were right Phil, that was delicious. I want to marry the chef so they could cook like that for me every day."

Phil looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were intense. It pinned Dan down and dissected him, took him apart and looked at all of his pieces.

And Dan was helpless to fight it. He couldn't look away if he tried.

"Yeah? Would you propose to him with a bagel?" He asked, the question nothing but a breath.

There it was again. That…that feeling between them. Dan recognized it now, for certain. His heart picked up a little, and he could feel the beginnings of sweat prickling on the back of his neck.

He remembered why he didn't date, why he didn't do anything other than platonic. He remembered the tears and the screaming and the pain, the damage he was still dealing with. He remembered, god did he remember, but he still couldn't stop the Phil Phil Phil in his head.

Dan licked his lips. He needed to get them away from this territory.

He needed to.

But.

Fuck.

He didn't want to.

"Maybe. Would that bother you?"

Dan's heart was in his stomach, yet it was still beating like crazy, sending his senses into overdrive. He didn't know what the hell he was doing, but he also didn't want to stop. And god, he couldn't stop looking into Phil's blue eyes, fuck.

Phil just stared, not saying a word. Dan was about to pull away, to give up whatever he seemed to be chasing. But Phil didn't give him the chance.

Something shifted in Phil's eyes, some kind of resolve forming right before Dan's gaze. Phil leaned forward and curled a hand around Dan's jaw.

"You tell me," he whispered and pressed forward. Dan met him halfway and he couldn't help how his eyelids fluttered closed when their mouths met. It was soft, questioning, with a clear open exit for Dan to run to if he wanted, but there was nothing unsure in how Phil kissed him; there was no doubt in the emotions Phil was pouring over Dan.

Dan would be lying if he said that the kiss shut up every voice in his head. If he claimed that this mind wasn't a shitshow, in a civil war with itself. If there wasn't a part of him that wanted to run.

But Dan was tired of running. He was exhausted and he hadn't known it, and yes, part of him was screaming that this was a bad idea, but fuck it he didn't care.

He wanted to be happy.

Phil pulled away a little, letting their mouths disentangle, but Dan just fisted a handful of Phil's shirt and brought him crashing back.

Phil groaned and nipped at Dan's bottom lip, flicking over it with his tongue. He was leaning heavily into Dan, the one hand that wasn't cupping Dan's face gently was locked beside Dan's body, holding Phil up. Dan, for his part, was angled back, and as their lips met over and over and over again it felt like Dan was just falling farther and farther back.

Dan brought his other hand to the back of Phil's head, and using the one buried in his shirt as well, Dan let his body fall, pulling Phil down with him. It wasn't as coordinated as he had imagined in his head, however, and their mouths broke apart. Dan was lying on his back, his legs angled awkwardly to the side of Phil's body, which was still somewhat posed overtop of Dan's. Phil laughed a little, but Dan didn't have the time to be embarrassed because Phil reached down and parted Dan's legs so they were on either side of Phil's body. Phil let his body blanket Dan's, bringing their faces impossibly close to each other.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his eyes so close, his mouth just out of reach.

Dan couldn't help but nod and reach out, pulling Phil in the rest of the way so they were kissing again. Phil let out a little sound that sounded a bit like a chuckle before turning his head and letting their mouths slot together better than before.

Dan had always liked kissing, but god, kissing Phil was a dream come true.

He didn't know how long they made out on Phil's scratchy couch, but Dan enjoyed every moment of it. He loved how Phil's fingers ran through his hair and curled around his waist, how Dan's own palm fit so well between Phil's shoulder blades, and how Phil's soft fringe brushed up against Dan's forehead.

Of course, things came to a crashing end.

Phil was kissing the life out of Dan, pressing him into the sofa with the weight of his own body, when he slipped a hand under Dan's shirt, his fingers burning into Dan's skin.

And then reality came crashing down onto Dan.

Dan gasped and both of his hands flew to Phil's chest, pushing him away. Dan rolled out from under Phil and consequently onto the floor.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He knew this was a bad idea, he knew it.

All of the reasons why a relationship between them wouldn't work burst through his head like grenades. And really, it was just the same reason, repeated over and over in a mantra.

You're ace you're ace you're ace you're-

Dan sprang up from the floor and Phil was up from the couch in an instant, eyes wide and filled with fear and worry and concern.

"Oh my god Dan I'm so sorry! Fuck, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

It was cowardly, but Dan couldn't stand there. A panic attack more fierce than anything he had faced in a while was building up in him and he didn't want to be here when it hit. Fuck. fuck. He turned, nearly dashing for the door, stomping into his shoes at a lightning and inhuman speed. Phil had caught up with him, however, and before Dan could grasp the door handle, his hand grabbed Dan's sleeve.

"Dan please don't go oh my god I swear I didnt-"

"It's not going to work between us, Phil, I'm sorry," Dan said, not missing how breathless he sounded, how kissed-out Phil looked, "but it just won't okay? I can't love you like you need me to."

"Dan? Woah, slow down, I don't-"

"I'm can't, okay? Now please let go of me."

"But I-"

Dan didn't seem capable of letting Phil finish a single sentence because he was already opening his mouth to retally. But then again Dan didn't really care if he was being rude at the moment because his heart was about to beat out of his chest and the world was spinning and all of the bad thoughts were rushing around his head in a whirlwind, unable to be stopped. Dan was panicking.

"I'm asexual! I just can't, Phil!" he blurted, and just as the words passed from his mouth his heart stopped, as well as the rest of the world. Everything stopped. Phil's eyes went wide, and that was it, Dan was ripping his arm out of Phil's grip and ripping the door open, sprinting down the hallway and taking the stairs down from Phil's flat so fast he was sure he was going to trip and break his neck.

He could hear Phil running after him, trying to keep up, shouting for him to "Wait! Please!" but Dan wasn't listening. Dan wasn't listening.

Dan burst out of Phil's apartment complex and ran faster than he had ever before. His feet felt like they were barely skimming the ground and it was like he was being chased by Death itself, but he only ran faster, pushed himself harder. And he was crying, tears blurring his vision until he could barely see. He hiccuped on a sob, but Dan wasn't stopping to catch his breath.

He had to run.

From Phil.

From the situation.

From the kisses, the feeling, the giggles and smiles and joy.

From his inability to shut his mouth.

From himself.

Besides the normal mishaps that happened on a day-to-day basis regardless of concussions involved, the week was relatively decent enough and lacking in any special "charm", as Jaime put it. But it wasn't like Dan was complaining. Yeah, it was good to be doing something, but having a slower-than-normal week was perfect for giving Dan's health a little bit of time to catch up. Dan also didn't have to work with Steve at all this past week, which was an absolute blessing, thank god.

Dan did end up taking the whole "limiting screen time" thing a bit hard. There were multiple times where he would subconsciously pull his phone out of his back pocket to check the time or scroll through social media when there weren't any customers around, just for Jaime to pluck it right out of his hands with a tsk. And he would groan and mumble about how "unfair" she was being, but really he was kind of glad that he had someone to make sure he didn't screw his brain up any more than he already had.

And, because staying up until 4AM on Tumblr wasn't an option anymore, he was significantly much more well-rested, resulting in a much smaller consumption of caffeine, which his body seemed to be thanking him for. Funny how things can work out like that.

It was a Monday, and he was for once alone in the shop. Steve was in some other country for holiday and Jaime had come down with a nasty cold over the weekend. And, surprisingly enough, that exhausted all of their options. The store itself was small, so it easily got by with few employees, but as it was minus Dan, Jaime, and Steve, the rest of the help were teenagers still in school that took shifts on the weekends and some nights. What was Dan going to do?—call one of the kids and ask them "uh yeah hey I know you're in the middle of class right now, but could you maybe cover for someone who called out sick?". No, Dan would pass on that.

His phone dinged in his pocket, and his chuckled. That would be Jaime, for the millionth time today already, complaining that she was "literally dying". There was no one in the shop, so Dan palmed his phone, unlocking it with a swipe of his finger. He laughed at Jaime's message and replied, biting his lip to unconsciously try to hide his smile.

>> From: my maraschino cherry

dan i cant even get out of bed to write my will

how will ppl know all of my millions go to my cat

>> To: my maraschino cherry

two problems:

1 you dont have a cat

2 i know full well you have abt 37€ to your name

>> From: my maraschino cherry

i cant believe you would be this rude to me when im dying

>> To: my maraschino cherry

if ur gonna die im getting ur paycheck

>> From: my maraschino cherry

if im gonna die im gonna haunt your ass for the rest of ur miserable life howell

Dan laughed, but a teenager that was obviously skipping school walked in the store, so he pocketed his phone for the moment. She ended up ordering a coffee but didn't stray from the counter, instead she very obviously flicked her eyes over Dan and tried to flirt with him. Fortunately for Dan, however, she could tell after a few moments of his awkward stuttering and the uncomfortable hunch of his shoulders that he wasn't interested, and she backed down, wishing him a good day and walking back out of the store, throwing a "Thanks for the coffee!" over her shoulder.

When she was gone Dan let out a sigh of relief and relaxed against the counter. He hated being flirted with. It made him way too anxious and stressed out.

This Monday was the slowest day he had seen in a very long time, possibly the most empty he had ever seen the store in the entire time he had worked here, which had been quite a while. Three hours had passed since that girl had come in, and no one else had entered the store, leaving Dan alone. He'd made himself two coffee's, had his lunch break, played several games on his phone, and even face-timed Jaime. Now though, Jaime was sleeping, his phone was nearly dead, and he still had another four hours before his shift was ending. Would he last until six? Time would only tell, that was for sure.

Dan slumped through another forty-five minutes of him lazing around the coffee shop, counting the cars as they passed by. He nearly fell asleep once, and because he so happened to be working in a coffee shop, Dan made him a double caramel macchiato with an absurd amount of sugar in it. He quite nearly chugged it, just for something to do, but settled for a slightly more reserved series of large gulps.

Afterwards, he used the key in his pocket to unlock the manager's office. Well, "office" was a bit of a stretch. It was mainly just a tiny room where the security monitor was housed as well as the filing cabinet that was sure to hold things like employee records and information on ingredients purchased and such. Dan's key didn't open that, and since his key was actually Jaime's she didn't have access to that either. The only one who did was the owner.

Dan sat at the desk, looking around for some sorts of PA system. He had never really been back here, only seen Jaime come in to turn the store's music on and turn it off every day they worked together. And frankly, even if Jaime was technically the manager, she had given Dan the temporary title when he stopped by her apartment to grab the keys to the store when she called him to tell him that she was sick, and that meant that he could choose the music, today. He'd been playing songs on his phone for the day, as some source of background noise, but with the nearing death of his phone, he had stopped the app awhile ago.

Maybe music is the key to ending this suffering, Dan thought, shuffling papers out of the way, still looking. Maybe, if I can ever find the damn thing.

Dan huffed, defeated, slumping against the chair. He absentmindedly spun in it a little, rocking from left to right, thinking. So, there was obviously no little radio or something back here, connected to the speakers, so that was out of the question. There was also no microphone or anything of the sorts that could be used to broadcast music via an outside source like a phone, which wouldn't have helped him anyways with said almost-dead battery. He sat, turning the problem in question around in his head. Dan left his head fall back on the headrest, puffing out his cheeks and staring at the ceiling. He spun himself in the chair with his foot, watching as the peeling paint above him swirled with him. When he came to a stop he picked his head up, thinking about how that was probably not the greatest for his head after a recent concussion, and his gaze landed right on the computer.

He wasn't sure about his possible success rate, but he sat up, switching the monitor on. A screen for a password came up, and Dan looked at it for a moment before putting in his employee pin. The computer beeped but the screen didn't change. A pop-up surfaced: Your password was incorrect.

Dan frowned, but then lit up almost immediately as the pieces clicked into place. Of course his pin wouldn't work; he wasn't the manager of the store and didn't have a key to this back room, so it wouldn't make any sense for his employee number to work. However, Jaime was the manager, and they had clocked in for each other more than enough times at this point for each other to know their pins.

He typed out her six-number pin and hit 'enter' but this time when the computer beeped, there was no pop-up. The home screen opened and Dan smiled. There wasn't much on the screen, but he flicked his eyes over the small selection of apps lined up on the left side of the screen and clicked on one who's icon was a blue eighth note. What was basically a souped-up Spotify opened, and Dan scrolled through the music selection available. There was a history bar, but the only thing on there was the local pop station, which was obviously what Jaime played day to day.

Dan knew that this was a work computer and everything on it was probably recorded and such, and—not to mention the fact that at some point today there were going to be customers so he couldn't choose something nuts—as a result he passed by everything in the search that was heavier, more on the rock and roll side. He finally picked with a huge grin on his face, settling on one of the band's albums and hitting play, cackling when he heard the sound burst through the speakers in the front of the store. Dan raised the volume a little—just a tad, really—and stood, making his way out of the manager's office in higher spirits than he entered it with. Dan re-locked the door behind him and made his way back behind the counter with a bounce in his step.

The next half an hour was better with music to keep him company, especially with his favorite artist easing the boredom that Dan felt. He was enjoying himself, if only slightly. Darkshines faded out and Dan had just finished texting Jaime (who was probably still asleep) that he was having a ton of fun here by himself (which was only half true; the music was good, yes, but he would have preferred some company too). Dan wasn't really paying too much attention to what was playing through the speakers, but when the almost haunting sound was taken over by a wonderful piano solo and the backbeat of a drum that Dan knew so well, he dropped his phone onto the counter and forgot about it completely. Dan grinned so wide he might have been afraid of his face splitting right in two.

He sang along, gaining confidence in the vacant coffee shop with every verse. Dan drummed on the counter to the guitar, the drums, even the rise and fall of the vocals of the song itself. Dan laughed, dancing on his feet as the chorus crashed.

Love is our resistance,

They'll keep us apart and won't stop breaking us down,

Hold me,

Our lips must always be sealed

Dan was honestly having fun at that point. One of his favorite songs of all time was on, and frankly, it had picked up his whole mood.

So, really, Dan couldn't be blamed when he didn't notice the little chime of the bell on top of the front door over the music, but he did notice that he had an audience when he spun around—still, admittedly, dancing—to find a tall, skinny man with dark, dark hair and very pale skin standing, a few steps inside the store, stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open a little and eyes wide, eyebrows high on his forehead.

Dan yelped, startled and very nearly slipping on his own two feet. He felt his face flush immediately and the guy himself had a dusting of pink on his cheeks, but it was undoubtedly much much more controlled than Dan's. His mouth went dry and he suddenly wished very much that Jaime was here, because if she was, Dan wouldn't have had his choice in music, and him getting caught dancing by a stranger wouldn't have happened, damnit.

"Uh...sorry. C-can I help you?" Dan stuttered, his face still hot. One of his hands was shaking but he just slipped it into his pocket. The guy blinked and Resistance was over, the music fading into something else, and the spell between them seemed to break, returning reality to its original state. The stranger nodded, stepping forward, a small smile on his face.

"It's okay, I like Muse too, I just wasn't expecting it," he said, chuckling, "and I'll have one caramel macchiato, please," he finished, biting his lip a little at the end of his sentence. Dan nodded, turning around and started to make the coffee, grateful to not have to hold the guy's gaze, but Dan could feel his eyes burning holes into Dan's back the entire time that he mixed the drink. He tried not to feel more uncomfortable and embarrassed than he already was. It wasn't working.

"Here you go," Dan said, handing the drink over, "one caramel macchiato." Their hands brushed and Dan flicked his eyes up from where his gaze was resting on the counter. He was looking at Dan weird. Did Dan say something? Offend the guy?

But as Dan finally met the stranger's eyes with his own, he became abruptly aware of how blue they were. A memory surfaced, one of colliding head-first with a stranger on the street with similarly gorgeous eyes, causing Dan to look the guy over. He had the eyes, the same combination of pretty and handsome that Dan remembered through the haze of his headache, the same everything that Dan had remembered. Except for the pair of black glasses perched on his nose.

In all fairness, the guy had flicked his eyes over Dan too, and was looking at him expectantly, a question that Dan couldn't read in his eyes.

"Did you...this is going to sound weird, but did you happen to, ah, run into anyone? Like last week-ish? And them possibly fall over?" Dan squeaked, his small amount of confidence burning out mid-way through his question but Dan's social anxiety keeping him from dropping it.

The man smiled, and it was blinding.

"Yeah! I was wondering if it was you because you looked so familiar, but I didn't want to say anything and seem like a creep. I'm glad you said something!" He laughed, and it was the happiest sound Dan had ever heard. He could feel his blush. The stranger who Dan did-and-didn't know stuck his hand out, that smile still there.

Dan shook it, his head still whirling. His hands were just as warm as Dan remembered them, as utterly creepy that sounded in his head.

"I'm Phil, by the way, it's nice to meet you again."

"Uh, Dan. And...yeah," he replied lamely.

Internally, he groaned. Can he really be any stupider in a social conversation? Is that possible?

Phil was still smiling, but it dampened a little and he looked concerned. "How is your head, by the way? Better, hopefully?"

"Oh, yeah, it still throbs every once in awhile just to be a pain in the ass, but I think I'm good at this point. You were right though—I had a concussion. My friend ended up taking me to the doctor's."

Phil grimaced in sympathy.

"I can't say that I'm jealous of that. I'm quite a clumsy person, so I've had my fair share of concussions. I'm glad you're feeling better though! I was wondering if you were okay like, the entire rest of the day we ran into each other. I felt so guilty."

Damn, he'd probably double over if I told him that I stayed in bed for like 48 hours straight after that fall, Dan thought, eh, it was for a different reason though, maybe not.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Dan chuckled a little.

"The whole day, huh? That's pretty empathetic, especially for a stranger."

"Oi! You looked like you were about to fall over! It was like walking one of my drunk friends home!" Phil said, almost a whine. Dan laughed, he couldn't help it really, there was just something inexplicably funny about Phil grumbling as he was.

"Besides, we aren't strangers anymore, so you're point is totally invalid."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm Phil, you're Dan. Dan and Phil. Phil and Dan. We know each other's names so we're totally not strangers."

Dan snorted and shook his head. His phone beeped on the counter, definitely just Jaime replying to him, probably telling him not to have so much fun when she was dying.

"Aw, you're ringer isn't a Muse song. I'm disappointed now." Phil said and Dan rolled his eyes.

"I don't like Muse that much, mate."

Phil scoffed playfully, and gave Dan a look.

"Really? I walked in here with you giving your own little performance of Resistance by Muse. Quite entertainingly, really, and I can bet that no one who 'doesn't like Muse that much' would do that, mate."

Dan felt a little off at that. Partially because Phil saw right through Dan's bullshit and his easy-going jibe at Dan's use of 'mate'.

"Fine, you caught me, guilty as charged and all that—I love Muse. They're my absolute favorite music group and the owners of my literal soul." At the end, Dan had gotten a bit sarcastic, but overall the statement was true. Phil smiled, but this one was different, it was slyer, like he knew a secret that Dan didn't.

"I thought so, Dan."

Dan almost choked on his own spit when Phil said his name like that. And Dan wasn't even sure what 'like that' even meant, he just knew that there was something different at how his name rolled off of Phil's lips.

Phil's eyes went a little wide, his mouth forming an 'o' like he was remembering something.

"Oh yeah! I totally forgot to pay!" Phil reached into his back pocket, and Dan's eyes totally didn't follow the movement, thank you very much. He pulled out a leather wallet and opened it up, placing his coffee on the counter so he could use two hands and was already pulling out money, but Dan snapped back to attention and waved it away.

"No no, you keep that Phil."

"Dan, I've got to pay for my coffee."

"Nope, I won't let you. It's on me, okay? I ran into you that night, you walked me home and made sure I got in safely, trust me, you keep your money, Phil."

"Dan, we ran into each other, you can't really count that," Phil said, trying to hand Dan what was enough to buy two coffees. Dan pushed Phil's hands away, giving the guy an exasperated look.

"I can and I will. Look, even if you don't count that, you still walked me home, I still owe you."

"That's not how it works."

"You did a favor for me, I'm doing a favor for you; that's so how it works."

"Dan-"

"Take the damn coffee, Phil," Dan said, and following an impulse, plucked the wallet out of Phil's hands, slipped the money back inside and shut it. Dan leaned over the counter a little for a better reach, one of his hands braced on the counter, and put the wallet into the pocket on Phil's shirt. Dan pulled back, rocking on his heels a little, and flashed Phil a little smile. Phil shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.

"You are very stubborn, Dan"

"Thanks."

Phil laughed and picked up his coffee, taking a sip. His face lit up and he looked down at the steaming drink in his hands.

"Wow this is actually really good," he said, surprise in his voice.

"You are one of those really supportive friends, aren't you, Phil." Dan snorted.

"Hey!" Phil cried, indignantly. "How do I know that fall didn't, like, scramble your brains or something? Forever impair your coffee-making abilities?"

Dan laughed again, and honestly, he couldn't help it if he tried. Phil was just too...too Phil. Dan didn't know what was about him, but now that he wasn't severely concussed, he was aware of how fun Phil seemed to be around.

It turned out that Phil had been looking around for a place to stay and burn some time before he had to get into work, so he stayed up at the counter, and he and Phil fooled around for a little, joking and teasing each other. Dan had made himself a drink (a smoothie this time because he didn't think his system could handle any more caffeine without imploding) and Phil had another coffee and a danish from their display case (which he actually paid for because he quite literally just wouldn't accept Dan waving the money away). When it came time for Phil to leave, however, the process nearly took almost fifteen minutes because neither of them would shut up. When Phil was at the glass door and they were still trading jokes, he looked at his watch and said something about running late from staying too long, and even though he didn't seem too concerned about it, Dan certainly was, shooing him out with a "Phil! Go! I swear to god if you're late to work!". Phil had laughed his way out and so had Dan, really.

When he was gone though, Dan couldn't help but feel a little lonely. He hadn't really had anyone around all day besides the very few customers that had popped in for a few minutes, and Phil's presence was a welcome change in all of it. Now that he was gone the store felt much more empty than before.

Thankfully for Dan though, soon after, things started to pick up. More and more people came in for their evening coffee, and with the customers, Dan was busy, which was good enough. When his shift was over, and two teens had come in to take over the store, Dan had forgone getting a taxi home to walk under the gloom of the Manchester skies. He stopped by a fast-food place to grab some dinner on his way back to his flat.

However, Dan couldn't just afford to take days off on his schedule whenever he wanted, and he was right back in that caffeine-saturated building bright and early Monday morning. Jaime wasn't with him—she was scheduled for a later shift and would arrive sometime this afternoon—so it was quieter than normal, and a perfect recreation of last Monday's morning.

Hopefully I won't dance in front of any strangers, then, if this is Last Monday Pt 2.

With that thought, Dan's brain immediately switched to thinking about the downright mysterious man who had found his way, literally, stumbling into Dan's life.

Phil had very obviously been in last Monday, and the Wednesday after, but he had also ended up showing up this past Friday as well, and god, Dan wished that that encounter hadn't happened. He had been in the bathroom only to come back and find Jaime talking with Phil as if they were the closest of old friends, laughing together, Jaime's hand close to her mouth as if she was telling him a secret. Dan still didn't know what they had talked to each other about, but when Jaime went to go "see about something in the back" when she noticed Dan, she had given him a wink. Phil's face had also been flushed, and he had had what Dan could only equate to a slightly embarrassed, slightly pleased smile.

Dan flicked his eyes to the glass door. He had opened the store all of four minutes ago, but there was still a little part of him that was wondering…

Maybe he'll come back today?

Dan wasn't sure if he wanted to get his hopes up, not really. Sure, Phil was entertaining, a really fun guy to be around, the fucking weatherman, mind you, and he was really damn attractive, but Jaime had told him a lot that Phil had been flirting with him, and the thought that Phil wanted a romantic relationship with him turned his stomach. Dan didn't date people because of his horrid-at-best history with significant others, and he really didn't want to have to go into anything like that with Phil. He was content to try a friendship with the guy if it happened, but other than that, sign him the fuck out.

Thankfully, the day didn't start out completely just like last Monday. The shop was anything but dead, and Dan would think that it was a holiday or something with the stream of people that wouldn't stop coming in. It was a bit much for just Dan to manage, and if he hadn't been working for as long as he had as a barista, he was certain that it would have been hell to deal with so many people in such a short time. The good thing was that all of the traffic kept him busy. He was making lattes and espressos and dinks with little foam designs, and before he knew it, time was flying by. It was no longer early morning, but a little past one in the afternoon and the past six-ish hours felt like a blink, but Dan was glad for the lull. He had been on his feet rushing around to fill orders all morning, and it kind of sucked, so Dan just slumped against the counter, exhaling for what seemed like the first time all day.

Dan's stomach grumbled angrily and he pressed his palm to his abdomen, the corner of his lip pulling down. He'd forgotten about breakfast this morning.

He looked around the coffee shop. There were about a half dozen people besides himself, and none of them were paying Dan any attention, nor did they seem like they were going to need his assistance anytime soon.

Dan made himself a coffee because after six hours of non-stop labor he deserved it, and picked out one of the wrapped sandwiches that they sold. He couldn't take a full on lunch break like he may have wanted to because there was no one too cover the store while he ate and took a half an hour to relax, so Dan just dragged a chair up next to the counter and sat down, letting out a deep sigh.

Working a double shift all alone sucked ass, but Dan didn't mind too much in the instance that the only other person who would be able to work a shift like this with him besides Jaime was Steve. And fuck, that guy was an asshole. So really, Dan would take working himself harder than normal then having to subject him to shitty company when he didn't have to.

He ate quicker than normal, the hunger in his stomach multiplying once he started eating. God, he should never skip breakfast. It only fucked him over later. Oh you're hungry? You skipped a meal? Well you better eat twice your weight if you want any chance of feeling full ever again.

Dan's sandwich was gone from his hands before he knew it, so he sipped his coffee, too lazy to get up and grab another. He'd eat something small later when he had a moment while working. The caffeine was starting to work through his system now too, and he could feel a bit of his lost energy coming back.

His break didn't last all that long, though—barely fifteen minutes—before the crowds were back and he had to help his fellow human beings get their caffeine fix.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Dan was back to working just like he had this morning with the amount of people walking into the store. He had to have sold a record amount of coffee for a single day, and he still had several hours left to his shift when Jaime would take over. It was kind of incredible, and if Dan maybe wasn't the one behind the counter, he might have found it a little impressive.

The next lull he had was some time later, at about four-thirty, and once the girl he had just served walked away, Dan had his hand in the opened bag of crisps behind the counter. He was starving and really wished that he had eaten something more than a medium coffee and a small sandwich.

Dan had his face full, mid-chew when someone walked up to the counter. He had the undeniable air of a uni student, a bag slung over his shoulder and wearing some sort of combination of pajamas and street clothes that only broke and in-debt twenty-something university college students would deem acceptable.

Not that Dan really had any room to talk. He looked like a hobo at the best of times as well.

"Hi, could I bother you for another shot of espresso? Or two, actually? I have a late shift tonight that I've got to get to, and I won't be able to study for my test until like, 3AM. I need all of the caffeine I can get right now." he said sheepishly, holding out his drink. Dan raised his eyebrows. He remembered this guy the first time he had served him, and Dan had already put three shots of espresso in initially at his request.

"You sure?" He asked, taking the cup. It was about half empty. "I mean I get it crash studying is pretty important but jeez that sounds like a death wish. Not to mention pretty tasteless."

The guy laughed, a wide smile on his face. He looked a lot nicer when he was smiling. Less glum and like he was about to keel over.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. The sacrifices we take for a degree, huh?" He yawned before he could add anything past that, a hand covering his mouth. "You know what? Make it two, please. You don't have to bother refilling the drink, I'll just take the espresso. Pray for me, I might not make it out of this alive."

Dan snorted as he popped the lid off of the cup and put it under the espresso maker. Two shots. Dan used one of the little straws to mix up the still-steaming contents of the cup. He looked over at the guy standing there, watching Dan work. He had about the same build as Dan did and if just being able to smell the drink seemed to alert Dan's senses, this guy was definitely going to not be sleeping for quite a while. Dan pitied him for the caffeine crash that was going to fuck this guy's ass like a speeding truck. Dan reached out for a new lid for the cup—company policy—but there weren't any more large-sized lids and his hand grazed the bare table-top. Fuck, he must have run out.

"Here, one sec," Dan said, passing the open coffee cup to the guy. Dan dropped down, opening the cabinet under the counter and moving aside. He heard the glass door open, the little bell ringing for the millionth time today, and internally groaned. Can't even get a fucking break.

He came back up, a stack of the little plastic lids in his hands, grabbing one and depositing the rest off to the side where the medium and small lids were. Dan noticed the guy's eyes following his body, and it rolled his stomach and tied it into knots simultaneously, but he tried to ignore it and handed the lid over. The guy clicked it on.

"Do I owe you anything for that..?" He asked. Dan could feel his skin crawling, but he didn't try to kill the friendly smile on his face even if it was strained.

"Nah, no need to pay your executioner," he joked, silently hoping that this guy would go away. He laughed, but Dan didn't, just still choosing to stand there with that god-awful feeling rising in his chest.

"Thanks. My name's Jon, but my friends call me Jonny." He bit his lip, and while Dan might have been oblivious, even he knew that this guy was now flirting with him. He had had his suspicions when he noticed Jon's gaze on his ass, but Dan's hopes that this guy would stop at blind lust were apparently in vain.

Dan gave him a strangled smile. Walk away walk away walk away-

Jon opened his mouth to say something else, but behind him someone cleared his throat. Jon jumped a little, clearly expecting it just as little as Dan had, and gave Dan a nervous smile, but stepped away.

"Sorry, I'll let you get back to work. Maybe I'll see you around, then-" he said, dragging out the 'n' and squinting at the nametag on Dan's shirt, "-Dan."

Jon gave Dan one last toothy grin and a wave, turning on his heel and walking towards the exit. Dan still felt uncomfortable, still had the lump in his chest, still wanted to duck behind the counter and hide, but he tore his gaze away from Jon. Dan had a job to do and apparently Jon's flirting had pissed off the person behind him, so Dan would be better off not adding fuel to that fire. He didn't want to deal with a miserable customer on top of it all.

"Uh, hi how can I-Phil?" Dan sputtered, his eyes going wide as he saw Phil standing there, head turned towards Jon's retreating form, a frown on his face, something fiery in his eye. Phil was the one that was behind Jon? Oh fuck that means he saw him flirting with me. Shit what if he thinks I'm okay with that and he tried something shit shit shi-

Phil's attention flicked to Dan's and god those blue blue eyes were stormy. His shoulders were tense and his face wasn't anywhere close to how open it always was. It was closed off behind what seemed like a brick wall.

In short, Phil looked pissed at best, ready to deck someone at worst.

"I-are you...okay?"

Phil let out a breath—a massive sigh, really—and let his eyes close for a moment. When they opened they weren't as dark, and the lines of his body weren't as sharp, but it still seemed strikingly obvious to Dan that something was up with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just, ah, just tired, that's all."

Bullshit. It wasn't even a convincing lie. Dan opened his mouth to call Phil out on it and ask what was really wrong and why he looked like he had just been thirty seconds from fighting someone (that someone who was yet to be determined) but he stopped himself. He and Phil didn't really know each other—not really—and they certainly didn't know each other enough for Dan to call BS, right? That was something that friends did. Were they even friends?

Dan didn't know, and he didn't know if that was a question that someone just asked another person, so he just dropped it, nodding a little robotically and giving a non-committal hum that could mean either "I know exactly what you mean, very relatable" or "we both know you're lying" and decided to let Phil figure it out.

"Okay. Would you, uh, like a coffee?" Dan asked. His voice sounded all wrong in his ears and his entire mind seemed to just be screaming the same thing: Why are you so damn awkward?

And to that, Dan didn't have an answer.

"Yeah, a caramel macchiato, if you wouldn't mind."

And like every other drink he's made today, Dan's hands almost flew on their own accord, but his mind was elsewhere, entirely.

Phil certainly had quite the ability to appear out of nowhere when Dan was the least prepared for dealing with him. No, that wasn't right, that made it sound as if Phil was a problem. And he wasn't, not at all, not even close, he just...was so different. It was as if Dan didn't know how to act around the guy, and could anyone really blame him? Dan's run into him mid-sink into a depressive episode, been caught dancing—which he didn't do—to Muse by the guy, and just now, too, when Dan was uncomfortable as fuck and being flirted with, Phil was there.

And fuck, why did it matter so much to Dan? Why in hell was it apparently important enough for Dan to stress himself over it while he was making Phil's coffee.

Phil looked much more relaxed when Dan handed him the coffee, and the faint smile on his lips was enough to assure Dan that whatever had angered Phil wasn't too bad, if he was smiling already.

"This is probably going to sound weird, but do you not work Sundays?"

Dan looked up from the register where he was ringing up Phil's order. He felt a little bit of heat crawl up his face. Jaime saying he's flirting with you seemed to bounce around in Dan's skull, but he prayed that it didn't show, just letting a little smirk on his face and throwing up the first defense mechanism that he used when he wasn't sure if he was reading a situation wrong: sarcasm and humor.

"You haven't even told me your last name yet but you're asking me for my work schedule?" Dan cocked an eyebrow to make the ruse work. He was still feeling a bit off, and he didn't need Phil to know that.

Phil's eyes went wide and if he had been drinking at the moment, Dan was sure that he would have spit it out.

"What no, no! I didn't—I mean—not like, I-"

Dan laughed and waved away Phil's panic.

"Phil, I'm joking, it's okay. I work everyday except for Saturday, more times than not. Every once in awhile my schedule will get altered or something, but I pretty much am in day in and day out." Dan said, giggling uncontrollably, trying in vain to calm his laughter because frankly, Phil freaking out over possibly offending Dan or something like that was funny as shit.

(and adorable, but that thought didn't even have to be acknowledged by Dan himself)

"Wait a minute, did you come in yesterday to come see me or something?" Dan said, stopping himself. Phil's face went bright red and his eyes went wider, and Dan couldn't help the grin from spreading across his face as Phil tried to find some excuse. He seemed to give up, however, after a moment.

"Uh, yeah, I might have," Phi squeaked out, rubbing the back of his head. He looked like a goddamn little kid admitting to stealing biscuits before dinner for fuck's sake.

Dan didn't really know how to respond to that—did anyone?—so all he did was keep the smile on his face and roll his eyes a little.

"And, it's Lester."

"Excuse me?"

"You mentioned that you didn't know my last name, and it's Lester."

"Oh. Phil Lester. It has a nice ring to it." Dan seemed to be rambling, but he doubted that he could stop himself at this point.

"What about you? Or should I keep think of you as Dan The Guy Who Makes My Coffees?"

"It's Howell." Dan muttered, breaking their eye contact.

"Dan Howell?" Phil asked, a sudden serious glint in his eye. Dan gulped.

"Yeah?" Fuck there goes his anxiety. Off the charts once again.

"Can I have a donut?"

"Oh fuck you!" Dan whined, poking Phil in the shoulder, who was giggling like a mad man, a hand in front of his mouth. "Here I was, thinking you were going to ask me something all serious and all that, and you ask me for a fucking donut? The nerve!"

Phil was laughing hard enough that almost no sound was coming out, and his eyes got all squinty. His hand had dropped away to lay on his chest and Dan could see the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he giggled.

"You should have seen your face!" Phil breathed, and Dan poked him again, but it wasn't with malice. He was smiling himself. Widely, in fact.

This shithead…

When Phil stopped laughing, he looked up back at Dan, a grin splitting his face.

"I hate you." "No you don't. At least, you do a really bad job at showing it, Dan."

"Mhm. You say that like we're friends. True friends would tell each other things like the fact that they're the weatherman, or not try and lowkey stalk them at work, or-"

"Wait a minute, how do you know that I'm the weatherman?"

This time, it was Dan's turn to blush, and he did, heavily, the events of Saturday jumping to the front of his consciousness.

"Saturday I was hanging out with Jaime, and we uh, wanted to know when it would stop raining? So she must have found the local channel, and low and behold you were on it, broadcasting the fucking weather."

Phil blushed, a nervous little laugh bubbling out from his chest.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit, really. I'm just a part-time unpaid intern part-time employee trying to earn some experience out there and put my name out. I wasn't supposed to actually be telling the weather, but turns out the camera must, ah, love me. At least that's what my boss says."

"Still, Phil, I quite literally choked on a piece of popcorn when you're smiling face just appeared on Jaime's TV with a cloud themed tie."

"You what?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it myself. But there you were, and there I was, like, dying. I should demand compensation for the trauma I've been through."

"What are you going to do, take me to court?"

"Hmm, maybe. You'll hear from my attorney, certainly. Or, probably. I dunno, I've still got to think about what kinds of charges I'm going to press against you. And get an attorney." Dan said, and really, the levels of sarcasm they were single-handedly projecting were astounding.

"Okay, here," Phil said, reaching over and easily picking Dan's phone out of his jeans pocket the sides of his fingers brushing up against the black denim. The action so casual and Phil was so damn confident about it, that Dan just sucked in his breath and watched, open mouthed, as Phil clicked the phone screen on.

"Password?" he asked, turning the phone around. Dan reached out, typed it in, but it was like he was in a daze. Was this really happening?

Phil started typing something, and then snapped a photo of his coffee. He handed Dan his phone back, and bright and new on Dan's screen was a contact titled Phil Lester (is amazing!!). The icon was a picture of the top of Phil's caramel macchiato, only his pale hand visible.

"There you go, let me know when you figure it out, okay? I've got to get to my part-time at Tesco's, but I'll see you around?"

"Uh, yeah. Yes. See you, Phil."

Phil smiled, and Dan smiled back before he even realized he was completing the action. Phil smiled so he smiled back. It was that simple.

He turned and walked away, and Dan's eyes followed his lanky frame the entire time. He watched as Phil opened the door—that tiny bell sounding—and stepped outside. And when Phil passed by the huge floor-to-ceiling window that made up the majority of the one wall and waved to Dan, that big grin still on his face, Dan couldn't help the laugh that spilled from his lips just as much as he couldn't stop his hand waving back.

~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Dan was serving two girls when he caught sight of a forgotten pastry, pushed off to the side of the counter. It took him a moment, but the dots connected almost simultaneously, and as soon as the two girls were gone, Dan was whipping out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to the newest one. He typed out a message and his thumb hesitated over the send button, but Dan shook his head and pressed it. Too late to go back now.

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

I still havent figured out the charges

but

you forgot ur donut you spork

[Multimedia message]

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

D:

I'm at work rn, what time do you close?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

um real late, like 10

but my shift's over at 6

so it'll be jaime and some teenager probs

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

:'(((

fiiiiinnnnneeeee

I'll have to pick up my donut later won't I?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

uh yeah, i guess

or u can come in tomorrow or smth if like

u dont want to be wandering into a coffee

shop at 10 at night

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

what, you would like save the donut or smth?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

lester if u think if ur coming back tomorrow

im not going to eat this donut u are gravely

mistaken

>> From: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

wow dan I cant believe you dan

actually no I can

I've got to get back to work

see you tomorrow?

>> To: Phil Lester (is amazing!!)

have fun

and yeah i'll still be here in this caffeinated

hell, so, see you, lester