#phanfictions

“Why did I let you drag me to this again?”

Ethan shrugs. “I thought you’d say no.”

“I should have,” says Dan. “It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Waves crash on the shore and he can’t help but find it odd to be standing on a beach in his winter coat and boots, watching a bunch of people in costumes wait to rush into the ocean. Waiting, himself, to run into the ocean, all because his one friend decided it’s on his bucket list to run into the bloody ocean up North in the middle of winter.

“You’re crazy.”

Another shrug. “Stop complaining. You agreed to come.”

“Well, I’m crazy too then.”

A smile cracks across Dan’s face. Ethan’s staring out at the crowd of people who have gathered, probably wanting to socialize because of course the only friend Dan could make at uni is an extrovert.

“Go on, have fun,” he tells Ethan, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Ethan turns around. “You have fun too,” he says, pausing as a smirk draws at his cheeks. “I know! You should go find a cute boy.”

Dan groans. Ethan’s smile has gone wide and teasing and there’s a stupid twist of something happy in Dan’s chest that he swallows against.

“I never should have told you about that,” he grumbles.

“What?” says Ethan. “The sexuality crisis or your totally original plan to use uni to experiment.”

“All of it. I never should have told you about any of it,” says Dan, and before Ethan can say anything else to make his cheeks bloom pink and his insides twist, adds, “Now go socialize, you prick.”

Ethan turns away in an instant, lifting one hand in the air and yelling out over his shoulder: “Okay! Enjoy your experimenting!”

---

Dan does, completely by accident, find a cute boy.

He’s wandering across the beach and avoiding social interaction and somehow finds himself between two buildings he supposes are probably bathrooms. With a boy who’s standing there all alone, staring out at the water, with a bag clutched between his hands. Dan almost turns to leave, but the boy turns around, eyes wide.

“Um, sorry. I’ll just, uh–” Dan motions back, stumbling over his feet to step away.

But the boy smiles. “You can stay here,” he says. “I’m just–” He motions behind him, and wear the crowd of people as taken to very loud conversation.

“Avoiding people?” says Dan. “Yeah, same.”

That’s how he ends up sitting in the sand with Phil, who has blue eyes and a crooked smile and a fringe that mirrors Dan’s a little too perfectly. If Ethan were to find out, Dan knows he’d be teased about finding the one boy on the whole beach that looks like him. But Ethan’s not there, so Dan can sit and make small talk and admire the broadness of Phil’s shoulders without any teasing.

Without Ethan taunting him to experiment.

---

Somebody blows a whistle and starts yelling about how they’re going to start soon.

Phil frowns. Dan stumbles to his feet, pulling off his coat because like hell is he getting that wet. He realizes, probably a moment too late, that Ethan brought in the backpack with their clean clothes, and that Dan probably shouldn’t have planned to run into the frigid ocean in skinny jeans.

But Phil doesn’t seem much more prepared. He stays in his skinny jeans and t-shirt, but reaches into his bag and pulls out a headband with cat ears. Dan sputters, watching him place it on his head.

“Shut up,” says Phil. “Ian made me bring a costume and it was all I had.”

“Okay there, furry,” says Dan. “If I’d known we had a theme I would have brought my bear costume.”

Phil’s cheeks go pink. “There’s no theme and I’m not a furry,” he hisses.

Dan shrugs. Phil’s turned away from him again and is looking out at the ocean, the group of people who are way to enthusiastic about freezing their balls off. Dan lets his gaze sweep across Phil’s body, his tight black skinny jeans and white shirt and the stupid headband that sits atop his head.

“Too bad,” he hears himself say. “Maybe I am.”

Phil chokes on a laugh, poking his tongue out between his teeth, and Dan feels the flush of heat that blooms across his face.

“So, who’s Ian?” he asks.

Phil glances over his shoulder, still smiling. “He’s just a friend,” he says, and Dan’s mind hangs stupidly on the word just. “Though I might disown him after today.”

Dan’s laugh is warm, drifts away in puffs of fog. “He and Ethan can start a club,” he says. “Ditched because of a polar plunge.”

“Ethan?”

There’s something in Phil’s eyes, layered and deep that Dan feels might be reflected in his own.

“Just a friend,” he says, watching the relieved smile spread across Phil’s face.

In the distance, someone blows a whistle again, calls that there’s only a minute until the plunge starts. Dan reaches down, takes Phil’s hand in his, and drags him towards the water.

---

“You ready?”

Phil shakes his head. “Heck no.”

“Too bad,” says Dan, just as the whistle blows.

Everyone around them starts running, and Dan gets swept up in the group. He’s still holding Phil’s hand, dragging him along until their toes touch the freezing water.

“Shit,” he says, taking another step forward. “Shit fucking hell.”

Phil giggles, but when Dan turns to face him, his teeth are chattering and he has one arm crossed over his chest.

“How are you–” he hisses, the water reaching his hips “–fucking hell.”

“It’s better if you run,” someone yells out from beside him.

Dan shakes his head. “Like hell am I going to–”

Phil’s still giggling. He reaches forward, flattens a hand against Dan’s chest, and shoves him backwards. Dan stumbles over his own feet, still dragging Phil with him, until his chest plunges under the surface.

“Fuck!” he screams. “My nipples, oh my god it’s cold. I hate you so much.”

And with the hand still holding Phil’s, Dan drags him forward so he can hear the quiet groan he lets out when the freezing water laps at his collarbones.

---

“That is the worst thing I have ever done in my life.”

They’re out of the water, now. Phil’s shirt is clinging to his chest, wet white fabric letting Dan see the shape of his chest, darkness of his nipples.

Dan swallows, looks back up to see Phil’s smirk.

“Are you always that loud?” asks Phil.

His gaze sweeps across Dan’s body, the way his skinny jeans cling uncomfortably to his legs, how his shirt is stuck to his chest. Dan feels himself squirm, fabric clinging to all the wrong places, cheeks warming even as shivers wrack his frame.

“It’s cold,” he squeaks.

Phil’s gaze catches his, and then drops pointedly to Dan’s crotch.

“Oh, shut up.” Dan groans.

Phil’s tongue sticks out from between his teeth when he laughs.

—-

They end up back between the two buildings where Phil left his bag. Dan leans back against the wall, his coat sitting at his feet because he doesn’t want to get it wet with freezing ocean water.

The winter wind whips at his frozen clothing and Dan strongly considers going out to murder Ethan for disappearing with his clothes.

Phil gets his own out of the bag, glances around and draws his shirt over his shoulders.

Dan squeaks. Phil has a little bit of chest hair and pale stick and–

“Like what you see?”

He coughs. “I’m just gonna–“ he mumbles, turning around to face the wall.

Phil laughs, and Dan can imagine how his shoulders would shake, the rumble of his chest. Ethan’s words come back, a quiet echo in his mind. Experiment.

“You didn’t bring any clean clothes?” asks Phil.

“No, I did. Ethan has them and he probably– I have no idea where he is.”

“Oh,” says Phil.

Something hits Dan in the back, falling onto the sand at his feet. Dan turns around. Phil’s facing him, smiling. A heavy woolen jumper has replaced his t-shirt, and his jeans are unbuttoned, pushed low on his hips.

Dan pointedly does not stare.

“I brought extra clothes,” says Phil, motioning to the ground between them. “They’re a little sandy now but it’s better than you turning into an icicle.”

“Oh,” says Dan. “Thank you.”

He reaches down, collects the pair of jogging pants and bright green hoodie Phil had thrown at him.

“York?”

Phil nods, reaching down to shove his jeans further down his legs. “Bachelors in English linguistics and Masters in post-production.”

“Wow,” says Dan.

“You at Manchester?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Law.”

Phil kicks his jeans off, seemingly uncaring about how the sand clings to the wet fabric. That he’s standing there in front of Dan in nothing but his pants.

“Sounds interesting,” says Phil. “Now get dressed. Don’t worry, I’ll turn around, since you don’t seem to want my first impression to be when you’re cold.”

Dan chuckles, and turns around quickly because Phil is reaching down and starting to tug at the waistband of his underwear.

—-

Phil’s hoodie smells good. Dan tries not to think about it as he gathers his clothes, how comfortable the clothing is, how he and Phil are practically the same size.

But when he turns around, Phil’s staring at him.

“You look good,” he says.

Dan rolls his eyes. “It’s your clothes.”

Phil flushes, dipping his head as he mumbles: “I know.”

Dan feels his cheeks go red, and clutches his clothes tighter to his chest as though that will quell the way his heart seems to flutter. He doesn’t say a word, and Phil reaches into his bag, hands a spare plastic one to Dan.

“Do you need to go?” asks Phil.

Dan shrugs. “Not until Ethan comes to find me.”

“Okay,” says Phil. “They’re serving hot chocolate and handing out blankets if you want to get some?”

Dan smiles. Warmth twists in his stomach, floods his chest even as the chill of frigid water lingers on his skin. He reaches out, taking Phil’s hand in his.

“Lead the way.”

—-

They end up wrapped in the same blanket, sitting on the other, each sipping a cup of hot chocolate. Phil’s shoulder is warm against Dan’s. His hoodie smells like home cooking, vaguely sweet.

Dan smiles, hides his joy against the fabric of the hoodie.

“It’s good, huh?” says Phil. “It was the only thing that made coming here worthwhile.”

Something twists in Dan’s gut. He looks back up, catches the bright blue of Phil’s eyes.

“The only thing?”

Phil smiles, gaze falling away. His hand falls into the space between them, drifts across the small of Dan’s back, slipping beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

“Well, the second best thing,” says Phil.

Dan grins. “Good.”

They keep sipping at their hot chocolate. Dan presses closer, so their thighs are pressed together and he can reach out to set a hand on Phil’s knee.

“So, um, would you like to go out to coffee sometime?” asks Phil. “I promise I won’t make you run into a freezing ocean this time.”

Dan laughs. Phil’s smiling at him, crooked and shy and adorable.

“I’d love to,” he says.

—-

Ethan comes to find him once the sky’s gone purple and their hot chocolates are empty. Dan untangles himself from Phil, gives him a  hug before saying goodbye.

He’s still wearing Phil’s green University of York hoodie.

It’s only once they’ve started driving back to the university that Ethan turns to him, grinning wide.

“So, you found a cute boy, huh?”

Dan dips his head, folds himself deeper into the hoodie so the fabric brushes at his nose. The smile spreads across his face without his permission.