#allyssatm

But in Dan's normal luck, his day only got worse.

It was a Saturday night, so Dan had already been expecting a load of people, but tonight everyone and their mum had apparently decided to go out for drinks because Dan's bar was flooded with people. And all of them were seemingly seeking out to get absolutely smashed.

In translation, that meant Dan earned a shit ton of money, but his shift was hellish.

It was rounding eleven o'clock at night and he still had several hours left of his shift, which looked like he'd be spending in a tequila and margarita soaked shirt because he's had at least three drinks spilled on him so far. To make things better, he'd also had to practically scream for the club's bouncer because a guy drunk one vodka had nearly vaulted over the bar to grope Dan's ass as he was trying to keep up with the drink orders flying in.

So really, Dan was just angry and exhausted, and would probably saw off his arm to curl up in bed at this point.

"Rum and Coke," Dan called, sliding the glass down the bar where an older guy was waiting. He immediately started mixing another—this one a complicated but down-right delicious margarita—the front of his shirt plastered uncomfortably to his body and sticky with half-dried alcohol.

After about fifteen minutes of god-like bartending, a fair amount of the people had left to some other part of the club to dance or flirt, or whatever else anyone does when they're half-way between trashed and tipsy.

He poured the martini into it's glass, added a few olives, and handed it off to the woman waiting. She slipped him an extra tip and a smile after a sip. A man who looked a little older than Dan slumped into the seat of the bar farthest away from everyone else, shoulders slumped together. Dan made his way over when he had the chance.

"What'll it be?" he asked, keeping one eye on the drunk pair of guys practically making out on his bar counter. He'd have to call Al—the bouncer—if they took things any farther. "What?" He asked after he realized that they guy had answered him, but Dan hadn't heard a thing.

"A Black Sunday."

Dan almost asked the guy what he wanted to drink a third time. Surely he had to have heard wrong.

He served a lot of people in a night, sure, and while he was operating in a smaller-scale club, he still had a few people that were here for nothing but the chance to drink their worries away, not to pick up strangers and have fun that they wouldn't even remember the next morning.

The guy's voice was gruff and warbled, but Dan could tell that it wasn't from alcohol. He turned his full attention to the man before him. He was dressed in rumpled clothing that looked as if it had been what he'd slept in the night before and his pitch-black hair was pulled back in a messy quiff—if you could even call it that. There were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and tear stains rolling down his cheeks. Regardless, Dan couldn't ignore his inherent beauty. His skin was that pretty pale you saw on Instagram, his face sculpted and angular. His eyes were a crystal-blue that reminded Dan of one of his specialty drinks—a fruity cocktail that was fairly popular.

"Okay," Dan said slowly.

A Black Sunday was a hard-core drink. The least potent ingredient was an ounce of 101-proof Wild Turkey Bourbon, and the ounce of  190-proof Everclear vodka added made it have a higher alcohol content than illegal American moonshine. The drink itself was sought after so infrequently, Dan could count on his hands the amount of times he had been asked to make one in all of his years of bartending.

Dan added the bourbon to the cocktail glass, followed by a generous amount of black cherry soda to keep it from tasting like antifreeze. He passed it to the guy who ordered it, and watched in near horror as he took a large gulp without even flinching.

Jesus, there's no way I'm messing with this guy. He's got some serious nerves to be drinking Bloody Sunday's like that. They’re almost straight fucking alcohol. 

Dan's attention was called away by a group of people siding up to the bar, all talking loudly. Dan makes their drinks just in time for more people to come. The cycle continues like it normally does every busy night for a while—one order leading to another. The guy sticks around, not saying anything to anyone besides the one time he asked for a refill from Dan.

Eventually, the stream of constant people vying for a drink ebs a little before one in the morning, and Dan finally gets a chance to breathe. The alcohol that had been spilled on him early on had dried, leaving a vague alcoholic stench on Dan's being. His feet hurt a little, and he was starting to get tired of dealing with loads of drunks.

"Another, please."

Dan scooped up the empty glass, holding it for a moment and not immediately filling it.  "You might want to slow down with these, mate, they can knock people out cold for like, a whole damn day if you have enough."

The guy didn't say anything back, just started with his red eyes, something hurt in them. Signing, Dan picked up the Everclear.

"I can't believe you've had so many of these, they taste like shit." Dan said simply, putting the bottles back where they went. He handed the now-full glass back to the guy, who nodded in appreciation, taking a large swig.

"They really do," He said, looking at the dark liquid in his hand as if it had personally offended him. Dan smiled and rolled his eyes.

"At least you know that you're torturing your taste buds, I guess."

The guy snorted.

"Yeah, a rude awakening from my normal fruity cocktails," he muttered, sipping his drink.

"Oh my god, there's no way that you drink stuff like that if you're here, on your third Black Sunday and still looking like you need about seven more to get smashed."

"Hard to believe, huh? God, if anyone that knew me could see me now. Or even if I just, I don't know, told someone they'd still never believe me. 'Phil, you cringe at gin and tonics there's no way that you'd drink that' is probably exactly what they'd say." Phil deflated a little, his lip pulling down like he just remembered something that he'd rather forget. "Well, I'd bet anything that it won't take me seven more, but if that's what I need to forget fucking everything," Phil downed almost the rest of his drink, the bottom of the cup clunking back down to the bar, "then by all means I'll do it."

Dan's anxiety spiked a little. He didn't really like it when there was conflict, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that this guy was going through some shit. He decided to change the topic.

"Phil, huh? I'm Dan," Dan said, throwing a glance down the bar, making sure that there still weren't any new customers.

Phil hummed in reply and swallowed down the last dregs of his Black Sunday.

"Another please, Dan. If you can't tell I don't even want to remember my own name."

Frowning, Dan complied, even if a little reluctantly.

"You know, it's probably really bad business, but alcohol is absolute shit for you," he said, passing Phil the cup. Their hands brushed.

"Is that like your doctor telling you that there's more side effects than actual things that help you in a medication?"

Dan laughed. "A little specific, but yeah, I guess so. Are you speaking from experience?" Dan asked, leaning on the bar.

"No, but I did have a really bad experience at the gym."

Dan snorted. Hasn’t everyone? 

"No! Really, I did!"

"What'd you do, trip on the treadmill? I hate to break it to you, Phil, but everyone does that."

"I haven't! Besides, that's not what happened at all."

Phil launched himself into an in-depth story about how he'd hired a trainer to help him out, show him the ropes, give him something easy to do, and how it had gone horribly wrong. Dan listened in rapt attention, horrified at what had supposedly happened. In fact, he'd given Phil so much of his focus that when a younger girl asked for a drink, Dan had nearly fucked it up royally because he wasn't paying attention to the cocktail that his hands were trying to independently make.

They kept talking, and if Dan was honest, Phil was more than fun to converse with. They were able to trade stories and even a few jokes. The fact that Phil was extremely attractive even in his severely rumpled state was just an added bonus.

As it rounded three-thirty, there was a surge of people, anxiously drunk for a few last minute drinks before they stumbled their way home or into someone else's arms. The influx carried Dan away from Phil for probably twenty minutes, throwing a wedge into their conversation. Dan, for his part, tried to make the drinks as fast as possible because he wanted to continue where they'd left off—Phil trying to get Dan to believe that a stranger had once walked up to Phil and woofed in his ear.

When he finally returned to Phil, he could tell that it wasn't going to happen.

Phil was slumped over his drink, scowling and clearly buried in his own thoughts. There were tears brimming in his eyes, and the drink that he'd done less than look at in he and Dan's hour long conversation was almost gone. When Phil saw Dan approach him, he chugged the remainder and held it out for Dan to take.

"Another."

Dan's heart pained him.

"Phil…"

"Another." Phil said, his voice so hard and cold, yet so raw.

"No, Phil, I'm not serving you another Black Sunday. You've had too much and I won't be responsible for your liver committing suicide right in front of my eyes!" Dan huffed, his arms crossing. Phil's expression turned sharp, something in his eyes turning dark and jagged. Dan shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He was unnerved, yes, but Dan stood his ground even if his insides felt like they were grinding together.

Lip curling up into the beginning of a snarl, Phil dropped his hand down, the cocktail glass coming down so hard and fast that Dan feared it would shatter.

"Love. The whole thing is fucked." Phil growled suddenly.

Dan knit his eyebrows. What?

"I mean," Phil said, glaring at his empty glass, "it doesn't feel like it at first. It's all fluffy and happy, skipping classes in secondary school to make-out and holding hands and just...love. And then, oh fuck, then it just gets better. You graduate, both go to separate uni's but out of some miracle you make it work. You move in together. And god, you're so in love it hurts. You spend all of your time together and you love each other and…" Phil drifted off, the knuckles on his wrist blotchy and white, but Dan was too drawn into the soft words Phil was speaking to fear for the safety of the cocktail glass. "And then, he leaves you for one of your friends. But not before fucking the other guy first, and ripping your heart out of your fucking chest and stomping on it." Phil was shaking by the end, a mixture of fire and endless pain in his eyes.

"It hurts so bad, having to try and pick your life back up again from where it was scattered into such small, jagged pieces. Nothing's right either because you're stuck in a constant state of missing. It's been you and him for years at this point—how the hell are you supposed to just move on?" Phil shook his head. "I don't even care. Love isn't supposed to reduce you to sobs, and I want no part of it for the rest of my life," Phil said, practically spitting the last few words, distaste clear on his face.

"Phil...I…" Dan started when it was obvious that Phil wasn't going to say anything else, but he didn't know what to say. Fuck.

With Dan's horrified words, the spell was broken. Phil's head snapped up from where it had been gazing at the table. He stared at Dan for a moment, all of his emotion sprawled out before it all melted away in a single heartbeat, smoothing out into an impenetrable wall. He stood so abruptly that in his intoxicated state, he nearly toppled over. But Dan didn't have a chance to help him before Phil was pushing and shoving his way through the crowd.

Dan felt something heavy settle in his heart. He'd been a bartender for a fair amount of time, and he's had more than his fair share of sob stories. He hated hearing them and knowing that people were hurting enough to fall down the horrendously slippery slope of alcoholism. But the reality was that he could only offer words of comfort, maybe a few free drinks and some advice, but that was it. He'd have to watch as they left.

"Can I get a goddamn drink?"

Dan ground his teeth, turning himself away from where Phil disappeared into the crowd. A thirty-something guy was leaning on the bar, obviously hammered. He carelessly gave his order, eyeing up a pretty blonde a little farther down the bar. Dan made it on autopilot.

The rest of the night was a blur. Business picked up in the remaining few hours, and Dan was working hard to keep up with the orders. Nevertheless, he did it, and even did a relatively above average cleaning job after Al threw out the last of the drunks passed out on the dancefloor.

The rest of the night, he didn't see even a glimpse of that messy black hair.

~~~~~

The next few nights business passed as normal.

Dan took his late shifts in stride, none of them sporting crowds near the likely record that there had been on Saturday. Wednesday, however, at what was an estimate of two-am, a sullen and melancholy voice called out behind him.

"Black Sunday, please."

Dan turned, unable to stop the twitch of his upper lip trying to form a smile when he saw Phil.

Phil was wearing a different button-up, and while he looked to have the same rumpled aura, the shock of black hair seemed to be not quite as tangled and his shoulders were not as drawn in.

Then again, Dan might have just been projecting his wish for Phil to get better onto the man.

"Back again?" Dan asked, sliding a cocktail glass off of it's rack. Phil tossed him the skeleton of a little smile. Dan handed the now-full glass to Phil, and not having a moment to stop and talk, turned back to the other waiting customers.

After a lull in customers opened up he took the opportunity to turn his attention back to Phil. It had been probably about half an hour since Dan had given Phil his drink, and the glass was empty in Phil's pale hands.

Dan frowned, reaching for one of the water bottles he kept behind the bar and setting it down in front of Phil. Phil looked up, confused.

"You're not getting another Black Sunday out of me unless you drink at least this whole thing."

"What? Since when is that a thing?"

"Since you had a billion of them the other night and they have enough alcohol in them to knock out a gorilla."

Phil's brow was still crinkled, but he didn't protest further, curling his hand around the bottle. He sat like that for a moment before looking back up at Dan. 

"Are you calling me a gorilla?" he asked softly, confusion still on his face, head tilted. Dan's eyebrows shot to the sky and he swore he rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his head.

"Is that seriously all you focused on? Jesus, Phil."

"Hey!"

"Here I am, being all kind, giving you water-"

"Dan."

"-and looking out for you-"

"Oh my god, Dan."

"-and you ask me if you're a fucking gorilla?" Dan finished incredulously. Phil was laughing, his tongue poking out from between his teeth, the action making Dan's chest feel warm. Feeling inexplicably and suddenly giddy, Dan continued.

"You know, Phil, I expected better of you, really. Hydration isn't a joke and you of all people should have-"

"Shh!" Phil laughed, reaching up easily against Dan's frame leaning over the bar and clasping his hand over Dan's mouth. And, miraculously stunned, Dan shut up.

Normally, when a customer would touch Dan anywhere—arm, shoulder, waist, hip, or anything else outside of the route of possible and normal physical contact of handing off a drink or collecting a payment—Dan would either chew them out or call Al over depending on his mood that day.

But Dan couldn't tear his eyes away from Phil's clear blue ones, his face happy and giggling, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol in his first Black Sunday. In fact, he didn't do anything but stand there with his upper body braced on the bar by his elbows, paralyzed by Phil's warm palm on his lips, his face so close, eyes so bright.

Phil pulled away after a second or two, and yet it still felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

Dan didn't really know what to do with the knowledge that a touch so casual and obviously careless by a man he'd just met could throw him off like this.

Pulling himself out of his head, Dan forced himself to act somewhat normal, looking behind him to partly look for if there were any other customers waiting, and partly to look like he was keeping an eye out for customers, but instead using the moment turned away from Phil to collect himself.

Dan brought his head back only for Phil's eyes to instantly lock onto Dan's. Phil smiled.

"Where were we?"

They got to talking, and just like the other night, everything just flowed. They even had a heated debate hours later on which Muse album was the greatest while Dan was mixing drinks for a group of college kids.

"No, it's without a doubt Origin of Symmetry."

"I'm not saying that it's a bad album! But The Resistance is easily the best!" Phil said excitedly. He took another sip of his second Black Sunday of the night. He had a certain slur to his words that pointed to his slowly increasing drunkenness, but considering how easily Phil had thrown them back last time he was here, Dan considered it a win. "James and I would always-" Phil stopped so suddenly that Dan's head whipped around, concerned as to what was wrong. Phil's eyes were wide and brimming with tears, a distressed look on his face. A sob escaped his trembling lips, and Dan heard it catch in his throat.

James and I.

It suddenly clicked in Dan's head, and he could feel his own eyes widen. He fumbled with the liquor bottles in his hands, trying not to drop them like his hands had wanted to a heartbeat ago.

"Phil, talk to me." Dan said, setting the ingredients onto the bar closer to Phil and working there, willing his hands to measure and stir and pour faster. Unfortunately, Dan was fighting a bit of an uphill battle with several people waiting for drinks.

Another sob escaped Phil's lips, and to Dan's horror, a few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.

"One of Muse's songs, that was our song. We…" Phil trailed off, hiccuping, full-on crying now. Dan barely understood his garbled words. Phil dropped his face into his hands. Dan practically threw the drinks at the people as he managed to conjure them into existence, throwing himself headfirst into making the next one.

"What did I do wrong?" Phil sobbed. "W-we were happy and w-we loved each other and I was going t-to marry him! And he cheated!"

It felt like the carpet had just been yanked out from under Dan's feet. His heart ached in sympathy for Phil.

Fuck, they were going to get married and this James guy cheated? That's fucking horrible.

Some of the people waiting for drinks were casting glances in Phil's direction, and Dan wanted to scream at them to mind their own business. Moreso, he wanted to drop everything and wrap Phil up in a hug.

"Phil," Dan said desperately, throwing together a handful of shots in seconds, "I know it may not seem like it but this James guy is an arse. You didn't deserve to get cheated on, not at all. You deserve better than him." Dan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see if any of his hasty words made it through to him, but Phil's barstool was empty, and minus the empty cocktail glass, there was no evidence that Phil had even been there.

~~~~~

Phil didn't show up again for almost two weeks.

Dan would have liked to say that on the nights he worked the bar during those two weeks he didn't keep a constant eye out for the man with the sad eyes and hunched stature, but it would have been one of the worst lies he'd ever told.

When Phil did show on a lonely Tuesday night, Dan didn't know if he should be excited or not. On one hand, Phil finding his way back into Dan's bar meant that Phil still, on some level, wanted to be around Dan (or the drinks he made, Dan's subconsciousness helpfully provided. Dan told his subconsciousness to shut up). On the other hand, it could easily mean that Phil had just slipped far enough in his sorrow that he once again needed the company of alcohol, and the thought made Dan's heart throb in shared sorrow.

But as Phil flashed Dan a smile, the edges of his shy-blue eyes crinkling, Dan was hopeless to the grin that spread over his features as a result.

"Hey."

"Hey back. How's the world of Dan...what's your last name?"

Dan raised his eyebrow a little, but still responded. "Howell."

"Great. How's the world of Dan Howell, then?"

Dan snorted and shook his head, but the smile on his face didn't falter with Phil's quirk.

"Not bad. Today's kind of empty, so I've had more time to relax than normal." Dan pulled up his stool, sitting on his side of the bar, directly across from Phil. "How's the world of Phil?"  Phil pouted, and it really shouldn't have been as adorable as it was.

"You aren't going to ask my last name?"

"I was counting on the fact that you'd tell me."

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm already the only one holding up this whole relationship." Phil whined. Dan didn't really say anything, but the word relationship threw him for a loop. It bounced around in his skull, making his thoughts sizzle to a stop for a moment before they limped back into place. Phil, however, being himself, didn't notice Dan's half a second reboot and just kept going.

"Anyways, since you won't ask, I'll tell you." Phil leaned forward, easily catching Dan's gaze. And fuck, this man shouldn't have this much power over him. "It's Lester. Philip Michael Lester," he said. Dan's attention didn't leave Phil's unearthly blue eyes, but he was all too aware at how Phil's lips were moving.

God, he needed to keep his shit together.

Dan hummed in response and swallowed, holding what was left of himself together with what seemed like only his bare hands.

Phil waited another moment before he pouted again, stronger this time.

"Dan! Ask me!"

"Ask you what?"

"You know!"

Dan leaned forward on the counter, and devilishly decided to give Phil a taste of his own medicine. However, Dan wasn't as effortlessly angelic like Phil, so he put in the work. He brought his chin down onto his hand and looked up through his lashes, making sure to soften his gaze. Dan let his shoulders relax and gave his head a little tilt, stretching his neck.

"Fine, how's the world of Philip Michael Lester?" he purred. It was obvious he was flirting. Obvious.

Phil's eyes widened, and Dan was close enough to hear the breath catch in his throat. He saw the way Phil's gaze drunk in everything Dan was offering.

And then Phil looked away, shattering the moment and bringing the reality of what Dan just did crashing down. He tried to hit on a guy who was dealing with a horrible break-up with the love of his life. God, Dan was so fucking stupid, and callous, and cruel—

"You, know, it's honestly going really, really good," Phil said, bringing Dan back to the present. Phil's gaze came back, and Dan was relieved beyond belief at it's warmth. He pulled himself back and schooled his emotions—not to mention getting himself in check.

(Dan ignored the flicker of disappointment that he swore danced across Phil's features. It was nothing but Dan projecting his own interests on the poor man.)

A couple walked up to the bar, looking expectantly at Dan, who stood as soon as they approached. He turned to Phil.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Phil smiled a little, resting his head on his palm like Dan had just been doing before. His posture was remarkably the same, but fuck with the dancing lights of the club floor highlighting his features and the downright ease at which he commanded all of Dan's attention, it was so much better than what Dan could ever pull off.

But once Dan felt his heart tug at his ribcage, he knew that he didn't really care if Phil was more attractive than him.

"Yeah," Phil said, his voice soft but still reaching Dan's ears effortlessly, "I'd like something light. I really want to remember tonight."

~~~~~

Maybe if Dan wasn't so drunk on Phil's company, he would have thought about how well they got along with each other was too good for reality. How easy it was for their friendship to click would have given Dan pause in any other frame of mind because all of his relationships with people were carefully cultivated after dozens and dozens of hours at the very least. But with Phil, Dan doubted that he could count all of the hours they had spent together on two hands. Yet, as Dan laughed at Phil's stupid jokes and their banter played off of each other effortlessly, it was easy to fall into the feeling that they had known each other for longer than reality.

Yet…

Dan wasn't paying any of that to mind.

No, right now, he was so immersed in Phil's slightly-tipsy attention that it seemed nothing but normal.

It was late—nearing three in the morning—and Phil had only had two weak drinks, good on his word. The whole night they hadn't stopped talking once. Even as Dan was mixing drinks for customers or taking orders, he was still listening intently to Phil ramble, or refusing to stop his little sarcastic interjections just because he had to do his job.

By the time Dan was nearing having to close up the club, he honestly felt that he knew Phil as well as other friends he had, if not better. No topic seemed off the table tonight, and yeah, Dan strayed away from asking stupid questions that would have obviously crossed a line or upset Phil. However they still bounced so freely from topic to topic that Dan felt he could name a thousand new things about this man who kept coming into his bar.

Video game interests, music, professions, where the hell they wanted to end up in life, what made them happy, the stars, a whole half an hour of Dan monologues about candles, different tragedies they've endured...and so much more.

The entire thing was insane. And good. It made Dan smile giddy and forget that he was a wreck.

And a hour later, as Dan wiped away the stickiness of dried alcohol on the many tables in the bar, he was left in what he could best describe as a state of awe. Never had one of his shifts passed that fast, and never has he ever enjoyed himself so much in one.

In his back pocket, Dan's phone vibrated. He slipped it out, and even though he had his assumptions as to who was texting him this early in the morning, the confirmation still made him grin wide enough to hurt.

>> From: Phil I expect you to finish that story about your piano teacher next time im there kay you left me on a cliffhanger, mate

He clicked back a quick-witted reply and pocketed his phone, continuing to clean up with a smile on his face. In the pocket of his jeans, Dan could swear that the plastic of his case was still warm from where Phil had touched it earlier—giving Dan the precious gift of instant communication to who was quickly becoming one of his favorite people—before waltzing right out of Dan's club doors, a bounce in his step and a swing in his hips.

~~~~~

>> From: Phil psst….

>> To: Phil psst

>> From: Phil work is super boring :(

>> To: Phil u were the one to pick a publisher as a prof. mate

>> From: Phil :(

I expected some sympathy and maybe a "phil you brave soul I'll come save you"

>> To: Phil *insert eyeroll*

Im in the middle of tesco and ur at work I cant just "save" u

>> From: Phil youre not going to try?

>> To: Phil whats in it for me?

>> From: Phil my time? my presence? my charming good looks? my humor??? me???

>> To: Phil ur not full of yourself at all huh

>> From: Phil :(

I need a new best friend *you* wont even rescue me :(((

~~~~~

>> From: Phil dan its 3am get off twitter

>> To: Phil phil its 3am get off ur phone

>> From: Phil dannnnnn

>> To: Phil :p

>> From: Phil come on you need sleepppp

>> To: Phil I could say the same for u

besides

staying up late is my job if anything this is training for work

>> From: Phil >:(

>> To: Phil why r u up anyways?

>> From: Phil I cant sleep

>> To: Phil James?

>> From: Phil … … yeah...

>> To: Phil dont apologize for ur feelings phil

…

idk if ur tired or not but do u want to watch a movie?

I mean

we would obvs watch it separately but we can text through it like we're sitting next to each other

…

that way ur mind can be off of James and we can keep each other company?

…

…

we dont have to

>> From: Phil that sounds pretty perfect

~~~~~

Over the following month, Dan and Phil spent an absurd amount of time texting each other. In the beginning, things were a little awkward with neither man knowing how to really proceed, but a week after Phil first typed in his number into Dan's phone and another in-person visit from Phil, things between them flowed. Not a day went by without at least a single conversation, even if it was nothing more than a dumb pun. Dan wasn't completely sure how Phil was faring with the new dependency on each other, but Dan knew that he had accidentally neglected a handful of customers this week because he had been typing out something to send to Phil.

And...the thing was...Dan was happy.

Now, it wasn't as if he had been upset with his life before per se, but more of like he had been merely content with it. He didn't jump out of bed, excited for the day, but he also didn't dread the thought of waking up again. Peculiarly, Dan found himself rolling over and checking his phone for a notification from Phil before he had even really woken up yet, already searching for that spark between them. He found himself smiling more, and more genuinely.

It was a good change.

Dan laced his fingers together above his head, stretching with a yawn. It was the early morning—around three—and he was tired. He couldn't wait to close up, text a sleeping Phil a story about one of the drunks tonight, and fall asleep.

When he spotted a familiar black head of hair, he frowned.

It was unbelievably late, not to mention that Dan knew that Phil had work tomorrow—what the hell was Phil doing awake, and hell, here?

Dan watched as Phil made his way through the crowd, and Dan's heart sank as the apparent reason why Phil had decided to show tonight made itself known.

He was disheveled, a large frown on his face, and a slump to his shoulders. His skin was paler than normal, yet there was still a flush dusting his cheeks, and Dan knew without a doubt that it was from alcohol.

Dan's heart throbbed painfully as he watched Phil stumble onto one of the barstools.

Dan stepped forward and automatically tried to reach out to offer Phil comfort, but the near complete lack of recognition startled him, making him suck in a breath. Could Phil have really forgotten him after some drinks? Dan had thought that their friendship had been worth more to the man.

He tried to get the thoughts out of his head. His hurt feelings didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that Phil was seemingly self-destructing. God Phil, how much alcohol did you have already?

"I wa't a vodka." Phil slurred, a spark finally lighting behind his eyes. "Dan!" He said, sounding cheery for a moment before his sour mood returned. "I 'eed a drink."

"Phil," Dan started, stepping as close as he could with the bar separating them, "how much did you drink before? You're already smashed I don't—Phil, no-!"

Phil frowned harder and tried to get up, the motion near unsuccessful on his uncoordinated and drink-heavy legs. Dan immediately lunged over the bar, grabbing Phil's sleeve and pulling him back onto the stool. He worked with drunks, so it was easy for Dan to tell that upon standing, Phil had more of a chance flying than trying to walk out the door. He most likely would pass out at this point.

"Look," Dan sighed, frantically thinking of a way to keep Phil here, "I'll get you a drink, okay? I'll get you one. Just...just don't leave."

Dan filled a shot glass almost all the way with water. He then threw in a dash of vodka—just enough to get the general taste of it. Phil was too far gone to tell that he was being tricked, but Dan wanted to make sure that the vague flavor of vodka would reach Phil's taste buds just in case Phil was a particularly adept drunk.

He set the glass down in front of Phil, and immediately Phil threw it back, holding it out in an unsteady hand for another. Dan compiled, however this time didn't put any vodka in, just water. He mimed pouring vodka in the glass with his back turned, put the unused bottle of vodka back, and gave it to Phil. Dan paid close attention to Phil as he drank it, but he showed no sign of knowing what he was drinking.

The last hour of Dan's shift followed a similar pattern—he gave Phil as many shots as he wanted, all of them water. Phil didn't say anything, didn't really show much evidence that he was comprehending where he was, and what he was doing, minus the occasional grunt to get Dan's attention for another drink.

The whole thing worried Dan to bits.

By the time Al was making his rounds, ensuring that all of the people had left, Dan had to stop him from tossing Phil out onto the streets.

"No!" Dan had said, panicked, almost dropping the bottles of alcohol he was restacking, "He's a friend, Al. I'll take care of him, promise."

It took a few tries to get Al to believe that Phil wasn't going to be a problem for Dan, but he eventually nodded, telling Dan to call him if he needed anything and walking out, his job done for the night.

Dan sped through the rest of the clean up, and sooner than expected he was standing outside of the locked bar, Phil half asleep and leaning all of his weight onto Dan who was desperately trying to hold him up. Dan paused for a moment, at a loss. He didn't know where Phil lived, let alone have a key to Phil's place, and wasn't sure if Phil could make it a whole night by himself in the state he was in—the last thing either of them needed was blackout-drunk Phil to accidentally hurt himself or decide to take a midnight stroll.

He glanced at the sleepy man in his arms and tapped his foot, weighing his options before letting out a huff and slipping his arm around Phil's waist, starting off down the block where Dan had parked his car. Phil tried to help, but he could barely get a step in with how uncoordinated his legs were. In circumstances other than trying to carry another man nearly as tall as him, Dan might have laughed, but Phil was heavy.

Through a lot of stumbling and a dozen almost-falls, they made it, and Dan was just barely able to get Phil into the passenger seat after ten minutes of Phil trying to move his unresponsive limbs in an effort to help, and Dan trying to stop him because it was only making things worse. By the time Dan buckled himself in and started the car, he was breathing heavily as if he'd ran the whole way to his car.

Getting Phil up to the floor of Dan's flat was simple enough due to the elevator, but getting him past the door was horrid. Phil was asleep and complete dead weight in Dan's arms, and Dan had to drag him through, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe by accident.

Once inside the flat, Dan didn't really make it very far. He rolled Phil onto the couch and collapsed onto the floor, his breathing labored. Did he sometimes have to lift heavy things while working at a bar? Sure, but that was nothing compared to an unconscious Phil.

Dan caught his breath and pulled himself back up on his feet—he couldn't rest yet. Dan removed Phil's glasses and rolled Phil onto his right side so he was facing away from the back of the couch. He then put the little trash can that he had had in his bedroom on the floor in line with Phil's head; that way if he threw up he would hopefully do it in that and not on Dan's floor. Once Dan was certain that Phil would be fine by himself for a little, Dan retreated into his bedroom and stripped himself of his bar uniform, putting on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He thought about bringing something in with him to change Phil into so he wasn't sleeping in jeans, but decided against it—there was no way to know if Phil was comfortable with Dan doing that, and Phil's possible inability to sleep well with jeans was irrelevant when he was unconscious and drunk off his ass.

Dan threw his dirty clothes into the hamper, brushed his teeth, and pulled the duvet and the pillows on his bed off, piling them on the floor in the lounge next to the couch. He went right back to his room and pulled one of his fluffiest blankets out of his closet.

Once he was back in the lounge, he let the blanket fall so he could pick up the duvet and then draped it over Phil, tucking in the corners to keep him warm. Dan slid a pillow under Phil's head and pushed the coffee table away to make room for himself before caccooning his body in the blanket on the floor, facing Phil.

It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions and his back would probably hurt tomorrow, but there was no way in hell that Dan was going to let Phil alone by himself.

It was a while before Dan's mind quieted enough for his eyes to drift closed, but the last thing he saw was Phil's peaceful face, lulled to sleep.

~~~~~

The night turned out to be more eventful than he had hoped, but no less than he had planned for, and Dan was glad that the day before he had had a good night's rest because his sleep turned out to be interrupted at best.

Phil threw up twice, and Dan both times Dan thanked his past self for putting the trash can down.

Phil hadn't been properly conscious for the first time, and it had taken Dan a half an hour to clean up a sleepy Phil and help him brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush Dan had found crammed under his sink. By the second time, Phil had sobered up a little (mainly because he had vomited up a large portion of the alcohol he had ingested). He had reached down, clutching at Dan's upper arm with one hand and the other yanking the trash can as close as he could get it. That time, Dan was awake in time to rub Phil's back and card his fingers through his hair, soothing him as he retched. Both times, while Phil went to sleep quickly afterwards, but Dan couldn't fathom another minute of sleep for at least an hour after. His focus was pinpointed onto the man on his couch and utterly convinced that Phil would need him even if Dan shut his eyes for a moment. Dan wasn't sure what the time was when he managed sleep, but grey morning light was already seeping into the apartment by the time his exhaustion had settled over him.

Dan roused close to ten in the morning, eyes heavy and body sore. His eyes fell immediately onto Phil who was still sleeping, his face peaceful and tranquil in unconsciousness. He watched Phil from his makeshift bed on the floor for a few minutes—was that creepy? Too much? If Phil was up would he be freaked out by Dan's stare?

The thought made Dan's eyes slowly shift away from Phil's pale skin. He ended up crawling out from under his blanket and finding his way into his kitchen where he had a bowl of cereal, rubbing at his eyes frequently. Since Phil undoubtedly needed his rest and was still sleeping soundly, Dan decided to just let Phil get up by himself.

Dan made his way to the shower, where he spent at least fifteen minutes on the floor of the tub, letting the hot water hit his curled up frame. It soothed the muscles in his body, acting like a balm to his overactive thoughts. All of which were about the man laid on his couch and the way his shoulders sagged with pain, the curl of his smile, and the starbursts in his eyes.

Dan didn't understand how there was someone out there who could give up a man like Phil, let alone cheat on him.

When he emerged from the bathroom, steam curling from the doorframe and his curls towel-dried on his head, Phil had switched positions. Instead of laying on his side like he had been all night, Phil was on his back, head turned to the junction connecting the armrest to the back of the couch. His mouth was parted and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, likely from a dream he was currently experiencing.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good sleeping, Dan thought, his feet pulling him closer on instinct until Dan was sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the sofa and the blanket he had been using all night curled around his body.

He felt uncomfortable continuing to stare at Phil with the innate knowledge of his own personal attraction to the man and knowing how much Phil was falling apart with this breakup, so Dan pulled his ultimate social crutch out—his phone. With pink-dusted cheeks, Dan pulled up the first app his fingers found, and soon enough, he was forgetting all about last night and this morning.

When Phil stirred however, Dan's attention immediately snapped to him.

Phil was now in a similar position that he had been all night, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely.

"Phil?" Dan asked, putting his phone onto the coffee table and scooting closer to where Phil's head was. Phil just looked up at him, eyes sleepy and expression tired.

"Dan?"

"Yeah. Do you remember last night?"

"Hmm? No, I don't think so…" Phil paused, his eyes falling to the duvet he was snuggled in, cold realization settling into his posture, "I got drunk, didn't I? My head certainly feels like I did" He asked in a small voice. Dan gave him a pained smile that he meant to be reassuring, but Dan had a feeling that it wasn't in the slightest. He picked up Phil's glasses from where he had discarded them when they had first gotten home and gave them to Phil, their hands brushing more than Dan was certain was necessary.

"You were absolutely smashed before you even showed up at my bar."

Phil groaned and covered his face with his hands, sighing so deeply that it sounded pained.

"God, I'm sorry."

"Phil…"

"I promised myself I was going to stop drinking my feelings away. Look how well that turned out," Phil said bitterly, frowning heavily. His eyes were wet, looking ready to cry. Dan wrapped his fingers around Phil's wrist to get his attention, not even thinking about the action.

"Phil, you've been through a lot, and you aren't dealing with it very healthily, but acknowledging that is the first five steps to moving past that."

Phil didn't look convinced, his gaze sliding back down to the blanket, shame and remorse in his eyes. Dan squeezed his wrist, willing Phil to still pay attention to him.

"You seemed to be doing really good with managing the want to get drunk for a while there, and I know that relapses are a very possible thing, but I think you should just do what you were doing before, you know? You seemed really happy when I saw you, and even texting you were so much more joyful than when we had first met. You were doing really good, and I think you can keep doing really good."

At this point, Phil's attention was back on the blanket.

"That...that's harder than it sounds. What I was doing...I don't know if I can keep doing it."

"God, Phil, were you on drugs?"

"No!" Phil gasped, looking up in shock.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dan, I'm sure. I just...I don't really know how to explain it, but you know how sometimes you find something new, and it like, fills a hole in you that you didn't know existed? It's like that, but it just...scares me I guess. Because I don't know how to handle it? I didn't even know that I needed it until I had it but now I try to picture myself without this new...thing and I can't. And I don't know what to do, because I'm not supposed to feel like this."

"Who says you're not supposed to feel the way you do, Phil? You can't pick and choose what you feel—the heart doesn't work like that. It's like how you're hurting because of James and what he did to you; you don't have a choice in the matter of the pain or joy you feel, and you can't selectively mute the negative without obstructing the positive." There were tears in Phil's eyes, a few fat drops slipping out and sliding down his cheeks. "And," Dan said, wiping away Phil's tears with his hand, "I think that if that thing—whatever it is—makes you happy, it's worth a little bit of terror. You don't deserve to make yourself suffer more just by denying your feelings, Phil."

Phil was full on crying now, and the tears were flowing faster than Dan could wipe them away. But before he could disentangle himself just long enough to conjure up a box of tissues, Phil tugged Dan forward into a hug. Phil broke down, sobbing into Dan's shoulder, blubbering about James and how lost he felt and the guilt he had. It all just...tumbled out, and Dan wasn't sure if Phil even meant to be spilling everything, but Dan had a feeling that these were tears and emotions that Phil had never let himself have.

Sure, Phil had mourned the future he had lost, but had he let himself mourn the pain he was feeling? All of the trust he had lost as a result? All of the misery he had endured? Dan didn't think so, and the thought broke him.

And as Phil cried into his shirt, Dan just held him tighter.

~~~~~

Hours later, Dan was having more fun than he had had in the company of another person in a long time.

He and Phil were nestled together on the couch with blankets piled on top of them, cocooning them together. Phil had showered and called out sick for work for the day after managing breakfast and, at Dan's insistence, two big glasses of water to make up for the alcohol-induced dehydration he had endured last night. And as it was, neither of them wanted Phil to get back into his dirty clothes, so Dan let Phil borrow some of his and told Phil that he'd wash them. And when Phil had first emerged from the bathroom in one of Dan's soft jumpers, a pair of joggers clinging to his hips, Dan had cursed under his breath, instantly knowing that letting such an attractive man wear his clothes was a mistake.

Thankfully, Phil hadn't seemed to notice.

What either of them had also seemed to have failed to notice, was that Phil wasn't technically supposed to be in Dan's flat.

At first, it was 'oh, your clothes are still in the washer'.

Then it turned into 'well we might as well have lunch while you're here'.

Then it was 'hey Dan you have Mario Kart? I didn't know that—can we play?'

And now, well, now it evolved into zero space between them, Dan's heart seizing in his chest as they watched Wonder Woman together on Dan's couch.

Phil inhaled deeply as on the screen Diana ignored Steve's protests and ran across the battlefield, her shield in front of her.

"Oh my god," Phil breathed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes wide. Dan, for his part, was happy that he had seen the movie already, because with Phil pressed to his side in his own clothes, he wasn't paying it any attention. The rest of the movie passed in a similar manner, and soon enough the credits were rolling and Phil was crying from the ending, still clutching onto Dan's arm where he had latched onto when the tension was running through the roof earlier.

"That was horrible! They deserved to stay together! How are you not crying?" Phil cried, looking at the credits still as if they would fade into a "jk lol that's not the real ending".

"Phil, I can't really change the ending of a movie. Also, maybe because I've seen it before?" Dan replied helplessly. He didn't really cry after movies. Phil just sniffled and wiped away the few tears that had leaked out of his eyes.

"I need a pick-me-up after that. Did you want to watch another movie? Though I have to put in a request for something that won't make me cry like a baby."

Dan looked at the clock in the lounge and frowned, disappointment settling heavily in his ribcage.

"We don't have time for another movie since I'm going to have to get to work soon," Dan started, and Phil's face fell, but Dan nearly tripped over himself trying to fix it, "but I can do pizza? That's enough of a pick-me-up, right?"

"Are you sure? I can leave, god, I didn't even ask if I could stay-"

"Phil," Dan interrupted, knowing where that train of thought was going and needing to stop it immediately, "you're fine, I promise. Today's been really fun and I'm glad you're here. C'mon, let's order pizza."

Dan watched as the frown that had been forming on Phil's face flipped instantly into a blinding smile, and he'd have been lying if he didn't say that the sight made the edges of everything glow as well.

And even hours later, when Dan was at the bar serving drinks to people, he couldn't stop the smile on his face—not when he was riding on the high of spending the day with Phil combined with Phil currently blowing up his phone with "I miss you" texts.

~~~~~

The golden feeling didn't even last a week this time though.

Things had been going insanely well. Dan and Phil had spent the next day—Dan's day off—together. Phil had called out of work once again, insisting that he made more than enough money and that he didn't need to be worrying about missing another day's pay when Dan protested. This day was one spent out and about, the two of them acting like absolute idiots together, window shopping and having too many snacks from food vendors.

Everything was perfect, and Phil was looking at Dan like that, and Dan wanted the whole day to be the rest of his life, because fuck they were so happy.

But the following night, when Phil stomped into Dan's bar at two in the morning, anger and pain in his eyes, Dan knew that the Phil he had been spending all of his time with recently was gone.

Phil asked for a drink, giving Dan less than a glance. He watched in horror as Phil threw back the shot without pause and asked for something stronger.

And goddamnit, but Dan wasn't working alone tonight, and before he could decide if it was better to confront Phil here and now or tomorrow after letting him get piss-drunk, his coworker had already given Phil what he was asking for and moved onto the next person.

The last two hours of Dan's shift ended up passing in a similar manner. Dan filled some of Phil's orders, trying to talk to Phil about how Dan was worried for him, but Phil would just ignore it. Other times, Dan was legitimately busy with other customers, and his coworker gave Phil the hard liquor he wanted without a second thought.

When Dan was clocking out at four-AM Phil was still there, holding out his glass as he waited for Dan's coworker—who was still working the bar—to fill it. When he saw Dan, he grunted and turned to Dan instead.

"'ere, Dan, 'ou can get th's," Phil slurred, drunk. Dan, who had been quickly put into a terrible mood at Phil drowning himself in alcohol, frowned and the glass out of Phil's hand. He left it on the bar counter with enough money to pay for Phil's tab. He grabbed Phil's arm by the elbow and hauled him up to his feet wordlessly, dragging Phil forcefully out of the bar. By the time they hit the cool night air Phil had recovered enough to protest.

"Dan, wha' the hell are 'ou doing?"

"My shift is done, Phil," he replied evenly, "You're drunk, once again trying to bloody kill yourself with alcohol, and I'm not letting you go home by yourself. That leaves you one option, and that's to come home with me."

It took Phil a few stumbled steps to make sense of what Dan said, but when he did he tried to pull back.

"Wha'? No, 'm going back," he mumbled, but Dan just tightened his grip and walked faster, Phil nearly tripping behind him.

"No, you're not. You're wasted and I'm not going to let you give yourself alcohol poisoning."

They were in Dan's car and speeding away soon enough, Dan's grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles a blotchy white.

Once they were inside Dan's flat he gave Phil his duvet and a pillow, and showed him the couch. When Phil tried to protest Dan gave him a firm "get to sleep, we'll talk in the morning" before he went into his bedroom and changed into something comfortable enough to sleep in. When he got back into the lounge with a blanket for himself, Phil was already unconscious. Dan sighed and started arranging himself on the floor, tired and angry and hurt. He fell asleep quickly, but when he woke up, his exhaustion didn't seem to have been satisfied.

He showered and cleaned up where he had slept by the time Phil started stirring. Dan took another sip from his coffee as Phil stretched, audibly wincing with a hiss of his teeth—it was probably his hangover, and judging at how Phil didn't have a sip of water last night, it was most likely remarkably worse than the last one. After a groan Phil propped himself up, blinking sleepily. His eyes landed on Dan sitting at his kitchen table, coffee in hand. Phil swallowed hard, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Morning."

"Was I as drunk as last time?" Phil asked after a moment, biting his lip.

"No," Dan replied quietly, "but nearly."

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Dan. You shouldn't have to cart me around and take care of a drunk me. I-"

"Phil, I'm your friend. I don't care if I have to support you and help you when you need it. But I'm not going to just sit by and give you alcohol whenever you want and take you home afterwards. Our friendship is worth more than that." The words made a defensive look cloud Phil's face.

"Didn't you just say that you would support me?"

"Yeah, and I also just said that I wouldn't enable your shitty choices, Phil." Dan bit back, properly angry all over again. Phil's face darkened, the former softness leftover from sleep gone.

"That's great support, Dan, thanks. Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of been trying to handle things, alright? I have a lot of shit to work through. Sorry if a little compassion is too much for you to handle."

"You call drinking until you can't remember the day before handling things?" Dan asked incredulously.

"You call whatever this is supporting me?" Phil cried, his voice raised.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you become an alcoholic, Phil!" Dan exploded. "And I'm certainly not going to help you become one! So, if you want to keep getting drunk off your ass because you're 'working through things' then you can go to some other bar because I'm not going to let you use me to self destruct! Do you know how many regulars I have at that bar? People with sadder stories than yours, who can't get by without at least a pint in their system at all times. People who are going to be dead by forty from liver failure. Do you want to become one of them?"

Phil was quiet for a moment.

"Do you really think that I'm using you to get drunk? What about two days ago, or the one before that? What about all of the texts?" Phil asked quietly. "You're my friend. You always come first over the alcohol."

"It doesn't always feel like that," Dan said softly, but no less harshly. He wasn't burning with anger anymore. He was tired. He just wanted to cuddle with Phil on the couch, but this was something that they needed to work through.

They both fell silent, unsure what to do, what to say, how to act. Phil sighed. 

"It's never an intention. Sometimes it just...hurts to the point where all I can think about is a way to numb it. Sometimes I'm okay, like when we were out the other day together And other times I'm in my flat and I just get so overwhelmed that it hurts too much. I can't deal with it." Phil said, near whispering. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "All I ever wanted was to be enough for him." Phil breathed, the tears spilling out of his eyes, crashing through the barrier that had been erected between them since the first drop of alcohol had passed Phil's lips last night.

Dan was up and out of his chair faster than he realized, nearly knocking over his coffee. They both pulled each other into the embrace, Phil gasping into Dan's neck through his sobs.

"It's okay, Phil, it's okay," Dan mumbled, clutching at Phil just as much as the other man did him. Dan desperately petted at Phil's hair and rubbed his back to comfort him. He ignored all of the emotions in his chest tangling together and simultaneously trying to force themselves out. Phil was more important right now.

"You're more than enough."

~~~~~

Phil ended up staying for the rest of the day like last time, but everything was just on this side of different. Both of their emotions were swirled together in a jumbled, confusing, unpredictable mess, which made for a few interesting interactions. There were several points in the day where one or both of them started crying due to one thing or another, and even more instances where one of them would snap at the other, sometimes sparking a quick spat before the inevitable rushed and sincere apologies.

Even more importantly, they patched all of the threatening cracks in their friendship and came to a greater understanding of each other. Their relationship was now one more attune to each other and less toxic for the both of them.

Dan pulled the blanket up higher over his body. It was late and the two of them had ended up on the couch, watching an absurd amount of Marvel together. Dan was sure that the blanket had essentially materialized, for he had no memory of Phil getting up to retrieve it and he was certain he hadn't. He wasn't complaining, however. The blanket quite literally softened the atmosphere around them and gave him an excuse to cuddle up to Phil's side.

Hours later, they were in the same spot. Phil however was out cold, his body half-slumped over Dan's, head on his shoulder. Dan didn't mind in the slightest. Phil was an incredibly cute sleeper, and being able to properly hold this wonder of a man was more than enough compensation for being his pillow.

On the screen, the characters were in the middle of the climax of the movie, fighting for their lives. Normally Dan got into scenes like these, but he was too wrapped up in soaking in all of the time with Phil he could get.

Dan knew that when the movie ended he'd have to wake Phil—he had work tomorrow and needed to get back home—but that was something he'd think about when the time came.

Dan watched Phil's eyelids flutter as well as his nose twitch, both by-products of whatever dream Phil was having at the moment. Dan smiled at it, an ache in his chest flaring at the sight of Phil so content.  God, he was so whipped for this man.

Dan's hand settled in Phil's soft hair, running his fingers through it as he twisted his body to let Phil lay more comfortably against him. Dan settled back into the couch, letting the warm feeling in his bones seep through his whole body as he cherished the last few minutes he had with Phil before he would leave him.

~~~~~

It became a habit.

Whenever Phil would wind up at Dan's bar he would go home with Dan and stay the night.  Even as Phil's self-destructive drinking habit started to shrink, and the need for Dan to make sure he lasted the night no longer became relevant, he still found himself waking up at Dan's the next morning.

A different product of their unspoken arrangement was that Dan's flat slowly became infused with Phil himself. He had a drawer in Dan's bureau, a toothbrush in the bathroom, and a permanent claim on the guest bed. But more than that, there were little reminders of Phil everywhere. A discarded shirt whose original owner had been long forgotten, a knick knack that Dan had no recollection of buying, an extra box of Dan's cereal for the mornings because Phil liked to snack on it and Dan was tired of having to run to Tesco's because he wanted breakfast. It was Phil having a key to the flat, and knowing how Dan made his coffee, and his lanky, relaxed form a regular and comforting presence in Dan's home.

It was so gradual that Dan didn't really notice the change until it had already happened. And by then, there was nothing he could do; Phil was properly rooted into his life and Dan was absolutely powerless to try and remove him.   

Of course, Phil was over more than regularly without the assistance of alcohol. They grew awfully close with the sudden co-dependence and the company they provided each other. Dan didn't even want to know how many hours they spent together, nor the insurmountable number of texts they exchanged while they were apart.

Dan had even been around Phil's, but every single time they would gravitate back to Dan's. Phil said it had something to do with the "feel" of Dan's flat, something about energy, but Dan didn't really believe him. Judging from the lack of personalized decor Dan had seen, Phil didn't really spend that much time in his apartment. And knowing what he did, Dan easily knew why Phil tended to avoid his own flat.

Dan just wondered why Phil hadn't changed any of it yet for a fresh start. It had been quite a bit since the breakup, and all of the lingering memories had to hurt.

There was also something growing between them. Dan could see it in the unnecessary brushes of their fingers and the prolonged touch of a hand on the other's shoulder. How much they sought after each other clear as day in their glances and smiles as well. Dan tried to keep his hopes from rising too high out of the ashes—Phil was dealing with a harsh breakup, and there was no telling that Phil would even want to act on feelings (that might not even be there, Dan's anxiety reminded him)—but it was like fighting an uphill battle.  

Dan was certain that he would be fine just as friends, but the guy had all but moved in and in the process showed them both what a domestic life together would be like, and it was so good it hurt.

Almost three months after Phil had last gotten properly smashed and broken down, he wandered into Dan's bar at around midnight. Dan hadn't seen him for a while, as odd as it was for them, and Phil coming around to Dan while he was at work had become even more rare.

He couldn't help but notice how good Phil looked with his hair quiffed, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, and his eyes sparkling. Dan was also extremely aware of how shit he himself looked.

"Hey," Phil said as he slid onto one of the barstools.

"Hi, stranger."

Phil grimaced. "I know, I'm sorry. But, the good news is that my department's work for the project is finished, so I should totally be working normal hours now."

"You're not going to leave me all by myself anymore?" Dan asked. He didn't even try to mask his excitement. It was lonely without Phil there to fill the cracks anymore.

"No, now you'll wish you changed the locks on the doors while you had the chance."

Dan laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded a little nervous and a little unsure. There was something glinting in Phil's eyes that Dan hadn't seen before.

"Can I get a drink for you? I doubt you came all this way to tell me that you were done being exploited by your company when you could have said as much through a text."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you." Phil said, leaning on the bar.

"Ha," Dan responded, copying Phil's movements, "don't make me laugh."  

Phil leaned in further, close enough that Dan could smell the mint on Phil's breath and see the swirl of color in his eyes. The sudden closeness forced the air in Dan's lungs to freeze, and he was sure he was staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil's eyebrow crinkled a little, and Dan knew it was because of Dan's self-deprecating comment.

"Would you like me to prove it?" Phil murmured, his voice an octave lower than before and fuck that made a shiver run down Dan's spine and his stomach drop to his toes. If he wasn't supporting himself on the bar Dan was sure his knees would have given out under his weight because jesus christ his legs felt downright weak.

Dan opened his mouth to try and respond, but the words didn't surface right away. He managed some garbled response, but what he even said he couldn't recall. Was it even English? He didn't know, but it made Phil laugh and lean back in the process, and with it their atmosphere from earlier returned—from wherever the hell it had gone, that is.

"I'll just have a beer, if that's alright. Nothing too fancy, please." Phil put enough money on the bar to cover his drink and Dan took it with a moderately shaky hand. He poured Phil one of the good tasting ones that people loved with his mind racing the whole while. Dan didn't know what had gotten into Phil, but he wasn't certain that he could survive a whole night of it, that was for sure.

Dan tried to pull himself together before turning back to Phil. He handed Phil the beer, determined to try to steer them both into a safer dynamic, but Phil reached forward and wrapped his hand around Dan's and the glass in the process. He held them both there for a heartbeat before taking the glass with his other hand, looking Dan in the eyes the whole time with an innocent smirk tugging at his lips.

I'm so fucked.  

Phil took a sip of his beer, eyes shining, the whole interaction taking no longer than a few seconds, yet leaving Dan near floundering.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Dan breathed, willing himself to get it together, damnit, "no problem."

~~~~~

Dan quickly came to the conclusion that Phil Lester was trying to kill him.

For one, the flirting had only increased.

Dramatically.

Dan lost count of how many innuendos Phil made, how many times he could feel or even watch Phil's gaze drag over him, all of the times that a touch lingered longer than strictly necessary.

It was confusing. Distracting. Completely...intoxicating.

He absolutely couldn't get enough.

Early on he gave up on trying to fight whatever game Phil was getting at and started playing along. He'd drop his own flirty lines and bend down a little further than necessary to reach the alcohol under the bar, fully aware of what it was doing to Phil.

They both knew they were in dangerous territory.

Did either of them care?

Dan at least didn't think so.

As people started to file out of the bar—Al herding them to the doors—Dan was incredibly aware of Phil still sitting on his stool, his chin resting in his hand so he could watch Dan as he cleaned up. They didn't talk, but it didn't feel like they needed to. The air around them was charged enough as it was; there was no reason to add fuel to the fire.

When Al was done he called his goodnight to Dan and Phil—who he knew by name at this point—and left.

Dan and Phil weren't alone in the bar for long. Or maybe they were, but Dan just wasn't paying attention to anything other than the presence of Phil.

They were outside before Dan even knew it.

He pocketed the key and turned around, all of his attention on how close Phil was and how the moonlight hit the pitch-black of his hair. For a minute they stood there, stuck by each other's gazes.

But then the spell was broken by Phil slipping his hand into Dan's and tugging him down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking lot that Dan always left his car in.

It was a miracle that Dan didn't suffer a stroke on that walk to his car, and it was even more of a blessing that he didn't crash because everything felt like such a fucking daze.

They'd never done anything like hold hands before, and Dan didn't know how to act, or what to say, or what the hell to even do.

He was completely powerless to whatever Phil had planned, and the shiver of excitement that kept running up Dan's spine made it clear that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Phil had been to Dan's flat so many times and so often that it was easier to count the times that he wasn't. He'd been there sober and piss-drunk and everywhere in between, and they all felt right. They all felt natural. This was no less right, but so much more unnatural. Here Phil was, the least drunk he'd ever been after leaving Dan's bar, standing in Dan's lounge and looking that fucking attractive, and gazing at Dan like he was that fucking attractive.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his hand lacing their fingers once again. Dan's mouth was dry and he felt overwhelmed, but he nodded. "How about this?" Phil questioned, his voice softening as he stepped into Dan's space, his spare hand finding its way to Dan's waist. The touch was hot, burning through the fabric of Dan's shirt and warming the skin underneath.

"Yeah."

Phil hummed in response and drifted closer until their faces were close, Phil's breath fanning out over Dan's cheeks.

"And if I kissed you, would that be okay?"

Would it?

That was a question that Dan felt like he knew the answer to, but now that it was being asked, he wasn't so sure.

On one hand, this felt like something that he had been waiting for ever since Phil had first walked into his bar. They had developed a healthy relationship over the months and months of knowing each other, and Dan loved having Phil as his best friend. However, as selfish as it was, he still craved something more. He wanted to know everything about Phil. He wanted to know what it felt like to sleep next to him, to kiss him, to wake up and see Phil right beside him, to spend their time together without worrying about if what they were doing was crossing a line or not. Dan wanted to support Phil and keep him standing when he needed it. He wanted to love him.

However, Dan had a nagging voice in the back of his head asking if this was actually right for them. Phil had been destroyed by his boyfriend cheating on him all those months ago, and he had made tons of progress, but Dan didn't want to be a rebound. He didn't want to be a fuck-buddy or a bit of worthless sex. He deserved better than any of that. He didn't deserve the heartbreak that would come with any of those options.

If this was going to happen between them, he wanted it to be real because these feelings in his chest were real.

Dan looked up, ready to push Phil gently away and whisper no, but he found that he couldn't because the look in Phil's blue eyes was the same one Dan saw in the mirror.

Dan didn't know if this was what was right for them. He didn't know what he should be doing, and he certainly didn't know if this would make or break them. But what he did know, what he was sure of, was that there was no more denying this thing between them; Phil wanted this just as much as he did.

"Yes."

Phil grinned before closing the distance between them and crowding Dan's space. Too many sensations were running through Dan's head for him to make sense of them all, but that didn't stop him from trying. He caught snippets of the feeling of Phil's lips, the heat of his body close to Dan's, the warmth of Phil's hand on Dan's hip, the texture of Phil's shirt under Dan's fingertips, and so many more.

He was incredibly sure however, that this was right.

All of the worries he had had about this thing between them were dissolving into bliss—how could he have ever doubted Phil when he was holding onto Dan like he was something precious?

Dan let his hands move from where they had been clutching at Phil's clothes to cup the sides of his face and pull him closer. That's all that Dan wanted right now—to be as close as they could.

The action brought a groan tumbling from Phil's mouth, the sound muffled from between their lips. Fuck, that was hot.

Phil's hands on his hips drifted a bit, the tips of his fingers pulling the fabric of Dan's work shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans and sliding underneath. It made Dan's mouth drop open a little, something that Phil took full advantage of. He coaxed Dan's mouth open the rest of the way and Dan let himself be utterly swept away at how good of a kisser Phil was.

"Come here," Phil murmured, pulling Dan backwards to the sofa. Dan just followed, his mouth seeking out Phil's.

Phil giggled at his antics and pushed Dan onto the couch. Dan let himself fall. Phil stood over him for a moment, just looking at Dan. The attention made Dan's heart race in a very good way, and he held his arms out, inviting Phil to join him. He readily went, their bodies slotting together in a delicious way. The weight of Phil on top of him was better than Dan could have imagined, and he let Phil steal his breath away with more kisses, their hands dancing across the skin of each other's sides.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Daniel," Phil whispered as he kissed down Dan's neck. He sucked a deep hickey into the skin there which made Dan moan and buck his hips. Dan felt Phil's smirk.

"I've been waiting for this for..I don't even know how long at this point. You're so sweet, and caring, and attractive that you make me question my vendetta against love." Phil rocked his hips against Dan's, their clothed cocks brushing together. It made Dan gasp and let his head fall back. Coincidentally, it also exposed his neck completely for Phil. A hand slipped into Dan's curls and tugged with enough force that Dan's head craned back all the way. At the same time Phil brought his mouth to Dan's pulse point and sucked.

Dan moaned, a loud, proper one that had Phil groaning in response and pushing their hips together again. Dan's eyelids fluttered as the stimulus crashed over him in waves, and all he could do was desperately rock his hips in time with Phil and clutch at his shirt like it was his lifeline.

"Dan," Phil gasped, sounding just as wrecked as Dan, "I need to know how far you want to take this. I'll stop if you want, but I just—fuck!—need you to tell me how much of you I can have."

They were both rutting against each other, panting and sweaty and needy. Dan shook his head, trying to breathe in enough oxygen to actually articulate the half-baked thoughts running around his skull.

"All of me," Dan moaned, the words tumbling out, "you can have all of me, please."

Phil's hands gave up their timidness at Dan's words and pushed his shirt up and over Dan's head. The rest of Phil's body slid down so he could kiss up and down Dan's chest, swirling his tongue around his nipples.

"Good."

~~~~~

In hindsight, Dan might have been right to worry about things going too fast.

The next morning Dan had woken up first, his body tangled with Phil's in bed. He had also been quite sore—a bit of knowledge that made flashes of Phil above him and thrusting deep surface whenever he blinked his eyelids.

Dan blushed a little as he thought about how much they had properly wrecked each other in Dan's bed last night.

When Phil had woken up however, all of Dan's hopes for a soft and loving morning were dashed away when Phil took one look at Dan in his arms and panicked.

It took a bit for Dan to properly calm Phil down, and when he did Phil scooted far away from him on the bed. It broke Dan's heart, but he was more concerned with how Phil was feeling to address his own emotions.

Phil ended up confessing that he wasn't sure if he was ready for a relationship yet, but he wanted one with Dan all the same. He cried when he told Dan how much he couldn't stand another heartbreak like the one he'd had with James, and Dan could only hold him while he let all of his fears out.

After a few tentative hugs and a long conversation of establishing what they both wanted and figuring out boundaries, they decided to try.

They took things ridiculously slow at first, and only attempted cuddling for the first few weeks. Eventually they branched into soft, loving kisses when Phil felt ready, and stayed content like that for a while. Dan let Phil lead them into more flirty territories, and it was Phil who first instigated their first make-out session as boyfriends. They had been dating for about six months before they had sex again, but this time they were both completely sober and it was more like making love then fucking.

Dan was more than happy to watch as Phil slowly got more and more comfortable with him in a romantic sense and showered Phil in as much love and care as he could.

Phil also gave up drinking as soon as they had started dating, which was something Dan was so proud of Phil for doing. Permanently sober Phil was Dan's favorite Phil, that was for sure.

And even if their start was a little rocky they found their stride, and now they'd been dating for close to two years. They had their own apartment, and  even with Dan's night shifts they found regular time to be together. Sometimes Phil would find his way to Dan's bar when he wasn't satisfied with their time together at dinner, and he would drink water or a soda and keep Dan company during his shift. Other times he would text Dan mercilessly no matter how many times Dan fondly told him that it was busy. Dan for his part would keep up with Phil while he was at the office, and had a bad habit of completely blowing up his phone when he was in an important meeting.

Neither or them would have it any other way.

Dan yawned and stripped himself of his work clothes in the dark. He had had to cover his shift for an extra hour because one of the other workers' car had broke down while they were on their way to relieve Dan, and he was dead on his feet. Dan flopped onto the bed and wrestled some of the sheets from Phil's sleeping grasp. He turned to his side and let his eyelids droop, but not before noticing Phil's arm snaking around his waist to pull him close. Dan smiled despite his exhaustion and snuggled close. Phil sighed in approval in his sleep and Dan giggled softly. He laced his fingers with Phil's and let his body relax into the mattress, content.

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.