~~

Dan was a boy. That was one of his first memories, really—being vehemently certain that he was male. He expressed it in every way he could, but when a three year old tells their parents, quite determinedly, that they’re the opposite gender—well, parents generally assume that they’re confused. That they’re just a kid. That they don’t know what they’re saying.

And so Dan took his gender into his own hands, at least, until he was old enough for his parents to genuinely believe that he was, in fact, a boy. At four years old he snuck into his father’s office, found the grown-up scissors, and cut off all the hair that hung lower than his ears. His mother was horrified—not because it was short, but because really, no four year old should ever try to cut their own hair. He was taken to a hair-cutters shortly after in an attempt to correct the remains.

Growing up, Dan also refused to wear anything pink, as every other little kid immediately associated it with girls. He also hid, tarnished, or threw away any dresses or skirts his extended family bought him for birthdays or Christmas—his own family already knew not to buy him such things, as he wouldn’t wear it.

By the time he was six, he owned a full and comprehensive set of little boys’ clothes and couldn’t be happier. By the time he was ten, another little boy pantsed him at recess and his entire grade proceeded to call him a girl. Dan moved away after that, all the way to London, where he could start anew and make sure that no one ever found out that he hadn’t been born with a penis ever again.

Shortly after Dan turned twelve, he got his period, and could never have been more ashamed. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He spent each month dreading its arrival, and when he had it, was so depressed that he often locked himself up in his room and refused to converse with anyone or even go to school. On the occasions that Dan’s parents managed to coax him out of his room and out the door, Dan would simply hide in a nearby forest until the school day was over.

That very same year, his parents bought him his first binder, which helped monumentally with his self-esteem. Even better was that his parents did research and found that there was a way to halt his puberty. Unfortunately, this involved seeing a doctor and going to a therapist to “prove” that he really wasn’t a girl, which was possibly the most disheartening thing he’d had to experience yet. Dan didn’t see why he should have to prove something to others, something that seemed so obvious to himself.

Nevertheless, a year later Dan was equipped with hormone blockers, which put and end to his period and his parents’ anxiety, afraid he was going to miss so much school he would be held back. The doctors said he was too young to start testosterone, but he looked forward to the day when he was old enough with giddy excitement.

By the time Dan turned seventeen, he was in love. Phil Lester was the nicest boy he’d ever met, and Dan fell head over heels for him. They met in their chemistry class, their seats having been next to each other. They became fast friends, and Phil was the first and only person Dan told about being trans.

They started dating immediately after Phil kissed Dan, soft and gentle, in the front seat of Phil’s car. They liked to sneak out there during lunch and eat together, away from the clamor of the cafeteria. When Phil started to lean in, Dan couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d had no choice but to believe it, however, once Phil’s hand cupped his face and his lips brushed Dan’s. It was the best moment of Dan’s life.

For a while, things went really slow, and Dan was glad of it. They went on dates and held hands, sharing shy glances across the table at a restaurant or carefully, nervously pressing closer to each other in a movie theater. At the end of each date, Phil would drive him home and kiss him goodnight—Dan could easily count each of their kisses on his fingers.

And then, one day, Dan went over to Phil's house. This date was unlike the others, in that they were completely alone, Phil's parents being somewhere out of the house. Sure, they played a movie, but there was no stiff arm rest between them. Dan could lean completely against Phil's side, and Phil could wrap his arm around his shoulders.

Sometime during the movie, which wasn't too interesting anyway, Phil kissed Dan. And he kissed him again. Dan lost count of how many kisses they shared. All he knew was that soon he was on Phil's lap, and they were kissing each other hurriedly and pulling one another closer, closer, gasping into each other's mouths with their fingers tangled in hair.

Dan, embarrassingly, could feel himself getting wet. As if that weren't embarrassing enough, it wasn't long before he could feel Phil's own arousal, and was painfully reminded of the ways in which they were different.

When Dan pulled away, red in the face, Phil was completely understanding. They continued watching the movie, though neither of them had any idea what was happening after that.

From then on, they got very close to taking off clothes several times. They would being kissing, standing up, sitting down, sprawled across Dan's bed, with everything getting more and more heated before Dan chickened out, usually with an apology on his lips.

“Don't apologize," Phil would whisper, kissing him on the cheek. Afterwards they would usually cuddle, but it didn't erase the fact that Dan was ashamed from his mind. He wanted to go further, he really did—but he couldn't forget that underneath his clothes he looked different than Phil did.

One Saturday morning, Dan woke up, determined. He marched to Phil's house (and about half way there, began wishing he could've been determined and told his boyfriend to pick him up) and straight into Phil's room. His parents weren't home, but Phil had secretly given him a key for occasions such as this.

Still, perhaps he should've knocked before barging into Phil's room.

"Dan!" Phil gasped, hastily withdrawing his hand from his pants, his face sweaty and red. Dan felt his eyes widen, his face becoming just as red as Phil's.

"Shit! Sorry," he said, holding his hand up and looking at the ground.

“Fuck, I mean, it's okay. What are you doing here?”

“Um…” Dan could barely think. He’d just walked in on Phil doing… well, that. “I was just going to say, that, um. We should. You know.”

“What?”

“Have sex.”

“Dan. Are you being serious right now?”

Dan finally looked up from his feet. Phil had pulled his covers up over his lap, and he was looking at Dan incredulously. Dan heaved a great sigh.

“Yes. I’m tired of being scared and—and ashamed. Every time we get close I really want to.”

“I don’t want to pressure you into it.”

“Phil,” Dan said, his voice serious. “I woke up and walked all the way over here and you think you pressured me?”

Phil shrugged, and Dan crossed his arms uncomfortably over his chest.

“I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dan said awkwardly. “Or if you’re…” he gestured towards Phil’s lap. “Already done.”

Phil blushed. “I’m not. Already done, I mean.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“So?” Dan prompted. “Are we gonna—?”

“Oh! You mean right now?”

Dan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “No. Never mind, this is too awkward. Just, when we—next time—don’t stop. I’m going home.”

“Dan—”

“You should, uh,” Dan gestured towards Phil’s lap again. “And when I get home, I’ll, er—I’ll think about it. And—you know—myself.” Phil, as if he’d happened to understand this stuttery, foreign language Dan had just spoken, went bright red and nodded. Dan went home, crawled in bed, and shoved his hand into his underwear, thinking all the while of Phil over at his house, doing the same.

The next time they got together, there was unspoken tension and anticipation in the air. They ended up both crawling into Phil’s bed, laying close and tangled with one another, on their respective phones. Dan appreciated that they could do this sometimes, be completely silent and practically alone, except with the pleasure of still being in each other’s companies. Occasionally one of them would snort, having seen something funny on their phone, and would show the other. It was nice.

Still, though, they both had an idea of what was coming. Dan’s underwear was soaked with anticipation, and he was almost sure that if he shifted, just a little bit, he would find that Phil was quite aroused as well. Finally, Phil’s hand shifted to hold his hip, and Dan felt his entire body tense up. When Phil started kissing his neck, behind his ear, Dan could hardly keep himself still.

“Are you sure you’re ready Dan?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Dan whispered. “I really want to.” He rolled over to face Phil, his hands clutching in Phil’s shirt while Phil kissed him. They ended up taking off Phil’s clothes first, his shirt and his trousers, anyway. Dan had never seen Phil like this, and he couldn’t help running his fingers over his bare skin reverently.

“If you want to stop, tell me,” Phil said seriously.

“I’m fine,” Dan insisted.

“At any time, though,” Phil added. “I’m serious. Even if we’re in the middle of it.”

Dan kissed him to shut him up, and continued kissing him for a little while. If he was being honest with himself, he was stalling. Phil already knew he was trans, had known for the longest time now, but getting naked together made it so real.

“Are you okay, Dan?” Phil whispered in between kisses, and Dan huffed and rolled away.

“I will be when you stop asking me that,” he muttered. Phil rolled closer and rested his hand on Dan’s stomach, his breaths fluttering gently against Dan’s neck.

“I just don’t want you to regret this. I love you so much, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I shouldn’t even be feeling uncomfortable,” Dan whispered, his mouth pinched into a frown. His eyes felt tight, as if he might cry if he didn’t do something about it soon.

“You’re beautiful, just the way you are,” Phil promised. “If you’re worried I’m going to think differently of you…”

Dan groaned suddenly and rolled over, shoving his face into the pillow.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know! I don’t like… talking about it,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. Dan had only ever really discussed this at length with his parents before. Everyone else he’d kept it a secret from except Phil, whose questions had always seemed polite or nonexistent.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Phil suddenly said fiercely, and Dan huffed.

“I know that, that’s not the problem. I don’t know. I just feel… awkward.”

“A lot of people feel awkward the first time they have sex.”

“Phil—”

“I’m serious! And I’m still saying we don’t have to do it now, or ever, if you don’t want to, but maybe you’re just having normal first-time jitters. It’s only you and me here, and neither of us will think anything unpleasant about you.”

Dan rolled onto his side again, this time facing away from Phil. “Just—touch me,” he finally instructed.

“What?”

“Get over here and touch me!”

Dan waited (completely patiently) while Phil scooted closer to him, carefully spooning him. Dan wasn’t too stupid to realize that Phil was keeping his hips well away from Dan’s, so he immediately pressed backward into him, making Phil’s breath hitch in his ear.

“Now touch me,” Dan said. Phil put his hand on his hip. Dan huffed and grabbed his idiot boyfriend’s hand and dragged it between his legs. Immediately, Phil’s fingers were moving against him, rubbing his clit through his trousers. Dan was clutching the pillow by his head by the time Phil’s hips started rubbing against his backside as well.

Soon, Dan was shoving Phil away, who immediately set about apologizing and trying to extricate himself before Dan shot him an exasperated look, and pulled off his shirt.

“Will you have to take that off?” Phil asked, nodding to his binder. Dan bit his lip.

“I don’t know,” Dan admitted. Really, he probably should’ve researched this before hand. He knew you weren’t supposed to exercise in a binder, but was sex considered exercise?

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“How about if it starts to hurt or you can’t breathe, you let me know?”

Dan sighed. “Okay.”

Phil leaned up then and kissed him on the cheek. Dan smiled at him briefly before reaching for his trousers. Really, he was lucky that he’d fallen for Phil. There was no other person Dan would rather be doing this with, and for the first time too.

Dan discarded his trousers on the ground and was soon clad solely in boxers, as was Phil.

“How do you want to do this?” Phil asked, his fingers trailing over Dan’s thigh.

“What?”

“Well, there’s lots of different ways to—”

Dan groaned, shoving his forehead into Phil’s neck. “This is the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had.”

“It’s not!” Phil insisted. “It’s just sex.”

“You’re just sex.”

“Clever.”

“Fine. What do you want to do?”

“Anything,” Phil said. “Everything—eventually.”

“For now can we just… with our hands? And maybe mouths?”

“Sounds perfect.”

It was after a second, awkward conversation, that they decided that Dan would get to touch Phil first. At this point they were both red in the face, though Dan didn’t know if Phil’s was also because of embarrassment or not. Together they shucked off Phil’s boxers.

“Wow,” Dan said, when Phil’s cock sprung up.

“Don’t say wow!” Phil exclaimed, and Dan laughed, grinning up at him. He leaned up to kiss his boyfriend, still giggling.

“It was a compliment,” Dan insisted. “He seems very excited to see me.”

“Oh my God…” Phil groaned. “Don’t call it a he!”

Still smiling at Phil, Dan reached down and held Phil’s cock. He felt arousal leap through his own stomach as Phil’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching. His hands were clenched in the sheets on either side of him, his mouth clenched shut and his eyes trained on Dan’s.

Dan finally broke eye contact, looking down at the arousal before him. It was pink—darker near the top—and surrounded by a curls at the base. Honestly, out of all the cocks Dan had seen, this one had to be the best.

“I’ve never seen a penis this closely before,” Dan said idly.

“It’s a bit disconcerting when you stare at it like that,” Phil answered breathlessly. Dan hummed.

“You don’t seem disconcerted.” He punctuated this by dragging his hand to the top of Phil’s cock. Once there, he ran his thumb over the slit, grinning triumphantly as Phil jerked upward.

“Fuck,” he breathed, tilting his head back. Dan ran his hand up and down it once more, though it wasn’t helped by the fact that it wasn’t very slick. He didn’t want to ask Phil if he had lube (definitely a conversation for another time) so Dan decided he’d just have to use his mouth.

“I’m gonna use my mouth, okay?” Dan said, looking up at Phil just to make sure.

“Fuck—yeah. Yes. Please.”

It was a bit nerve wracking, convincing himself to open his mouth around that, but Dan did it. He slipped Phil into his mouth, taking pleasure in the groan he caused him to emit. Dan hummed around him in acknowledgement, which only caused Phil’s cock to jerk in his mouth.

Slowly and carefully, Dan worked as far down Phil as he could, wrapping his hand around the part that he couldn’t. He pulled slowly back up and pulled off with a pop.

“Good?” Dan asked.

“Fuck,” Phil responded. He was clearly incoherent with pleasure. Dan jerked him off a few times, his saliva working quite nicely as a lubricant, before ducking down once more and taking Phil into his mouth again.

“I don’t—I think—fuck,” Phil breathed. Dan chuckled around him, and Phil whined in the back of his throat. “I’m gonna come soon,” Phil panted, his hand suddenly coming up to twine in Dan’s hair. He seemed to think that he was going to be pulling Dan off of him, which he most certainly wasn’t. Dan sunk lower on him, sucking, and Phil groaned loudly.

“I’m serious, Dan,” he panted. “I’m going to—I’m about too—”

Dan hummed around him, and Phil cried out, jerking beneath him as his cock twitched in Dan’s mouth. Dan tried to anticipate Phil’s load but there wasn’t really a proper way to tell his brain to expect something he’d never experienced before. Still, he managed to not throw up, and slowly pulled off Phil, his entire release in his mouth. Dan didn’t know what to do with it.

He sat up, staring at Phil who was still panting. The semen didn’t taste bad per se, it was just… kind of gross. Warm and salty.

Suddenly, Phil looked up at him, looked at his puffed cheeks, and laughed. “You can spit that out Dan.”

Dan hummed loudly, trying to ask “Where?” without opening his mouth and spitting Phil’s own cum all over him. Phil reached by his bedside and grabbed a trashcan, which Dan spat into.

“Would you have rather I swallowed it?” Dan asked, once he’d gotten rid of the spunk.

“I don’t care,” Phil said easily. “I don’t want you to swallow it if it’s really gross.”

“It’s not horrible,” Dan answered, and Phil pulled him forward and pecked him on the lips.

“You’re turn?” he asked. Dan nodded, the light, easy atmosphere feeling like it was slipping away. Right. His turn.

He laid down on his back, his head propped up on the pillows and his hands folded on his stomach. He was breathing shallowly.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Phil warned.

“Trying to get out of reciprocating?” Dan teased, and Phil smiled softly, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” With that, Phil reached up for the sides of his boxers, and Dan held his breath as he nodded and let Phil tug them down. Phil didn’t stare too long, didn’t grimace, didn’t anything. He just looked back up at Dan and smiled, and so Dan smiled back.

Carefully, Phil reached down. Dan wondered if he’d know what to do. With a penis, there was really only one option—everything you needed was right out there in the open. But for Dan…

Dan gasped and jerked up as Phil’s fingers brushed over his clit. His hands were now tight in the sheets on either side of him, imitating the way Phil had sat. And God—he felt so much more sensitive when he wasn’t doing it to him self.

“Did I hurt you?” Phil immediately blurted. Dan shook his head.

“No, no—it’s just—you know.” He was blushing. “Sensitive. Do it again.”

And so Phil did, and Dan had to wonder if he was going to rip Phil’s sheets apart. Phil’s fingers were gentle but firm against him, rubbing over his clit again and again and making Dan pant.

“Can I put them inside?” Phil asked tentatively. Dan opened his eyes, realizing all at once that Phil had been examining his every reaction, every twitch and shudder he’d made while Phil had been touching him. It was oddly hot.

“Yes,” Dan decided, and held himself relaxed as Phil’s fingers moved downward. Two of them slipped inside him, pressing in, in, in. There, they pressed upward and rubbed firmly against the inside of Dan, making him throw his head back with a gasp.

“W-where did you learn to do that?” Dan panted, writhing slightly beneath Phil’s ministrations.

“I did some research,” Phil admitted, his other hand coming up to rub against Dan’s clit. Dan whined.

“I fucking love you,” he panted.

“Can I use my mouth?” Phil answered.

Dan was quick to say yes, and soon Phil’s fingers were still inside him, still rubbing firmly against that spot, but his tongue was also on Dan, lapping against him again and again. Sometimes he used broad, slow strokes over Dan’s clit, only to suddenly make his tongue into a point, rubbing it hard and firm over Dan and making him cry out and arch up, up, up.

The first time Dan came, twitching around Phil’s fingers and shaking underneath him, Phil had thought they were done.

“K-keep going?” Dan had said, and Phil had looked at him like he was some sort of god.

“Again?” Phil asked incredulously. “You don’t need some time?”

“Please Phil,” Dan had answered. “Keep going.”

And so Phil did. He kept going after the first time, the second time, and the third time. By the fourth time Dan came, he was covered in sweat and twitching all over in aftershocks, panting heavily.

“Again?” Phil asked. It was possible he was enjoying this more than Dan had realized. His eyes were wide with excitement, glowing, practically. His fingers were dripping—with a wince, Dan realized he was dripping because of Dan—but he looked ready to shove them back into Dan at a moment’s notice. Even as he waited for Dan’s answer, one of his fingers was rubbing idly over the length of Dan’s cunt.

“Think I’m done,” Dan breathed, and Phil raised his eyebrows.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Come up here.”

First, Phil grabbed a few tissues and dried his hands, and then he crawled up the bed and wrapped his arm around Dan. Dan was still panting, his breathing labored, his chest tight. His eyes widened as he realized what that meant.

He didn’t want to tell Phil. Maybe if he just laid here for a couple minutes more he would catch his breath, wouldn’t have to take off his binder. But then… it was late, and Dan never slept with his binder on. You weren’t supposed to wear it for that long, anyway. It was for that reason exactly that he’d refused to have sleepovers with Phil before, despite the fact that Phil had promised that “sleepover” didn’t have to entail “sex”.

But Dan’s ribs were starting to hurt, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep like this. But he did want to fall asleep with Phil, to lay close with him, especially after his first time. Wanting to beat himself over the head, Dan opened his mouth.

“Phil,” he whispered.

“Dan,” Phil whispered back.

“I’m—I have to—um, take off my binder.”

“Okay, do you need help?”

“No!” Dan hissed, his face flaring in embarrassment. Phil reached up and kissed his shoulder.

“Want me to get you a t-shirt?”

Dan paused. “Yes please.”

Phil got off the bed and crossed the room to his dresser, pulling out a big, comfy-looking yellow shirt. He held it up questioningly, and Dan nodded. Phil even offered to leave the room while Dan changed, but Dan, oddly enough, kind of wanted him to be there. Still, Phil politely looked away while Dan pulled off his binder and pulled on the t-shirt. He felt oddly exposed and plenty uncomfortable, but Phil kissed his cheek and his anxiety suddenly seemed unfounded. They both laid back down then, Phil’s arm around his waist once more.

“I love you,” Dan whispered, and Phil hummed against the back of his neck.

A/N; Firstly; I just wanted to say that I have this fic pretty much mapped out, BUT there's a big empty space between now and the ending -- just because i need some filler stuff that i can use to add some ~development~ that being said, if you want anything specific to happen in this fic, please, please leave a comment telling me as this is the perfect time for me to maybe fit some of that stuff in. Nothing too big, just lil things. (do you want phil to get a pet? do you want more flashbacks from dan? flashbacks from phil? more about their family & all of that?? literally anything little like that that i can write a little bit about)Secondly; here a playlist of all the music i listen to whilst writing (i mean theres other music i constantly forget to add songs whoops) so if you wanna really ~get in the zone~ whilst readin you can go listen to that if you want i guess here it is And finally; lots of people who read this fic are ftm trans and thats great!! all the feedback that i've gotten back from them is so nice, and im very, very happy that this fic is at least somewhat realistic. I, myself, am not trans, however i am agender (demiboy? idk lol im figuring things out still) so i do have ~some~ experience with dysphoria and all that stuff, but at the same time its also amazing to hear what people say(a huge thanks to everyone's who's left comments on this fic so far... they really are greatly appreciated.)

Dan’s tired. He doesn’t want to get out of bed. Doesn’t want to do much of anything, really. The dysphoria is there; strong as ever. Maybe that’s the thing that he hates the most about himself: The dysphoria. Some people say that they understand that; understand the self hatred that comes with being stuck in the wrong body. But really, how could they, if they were cis?

When his mum claims that everything will be okay and that she understands, and that what he’s going through is something that every teen goes through-- isn’t she lying, because he’s not every teen. He’s Dan, not Yazi. He’s trans, not cis. He doesn’t know anybody who is trans - save for a couple of youtubers that he watches, more for the education aspect of being trans than anything else.

He feels alone. He can’t go to someone. Say, Phil. He couldn’t go to Phil and have the other boy comfort him, and tell him that everything’s going to be okay. Because how would Phil know, if he’s cis? How could Phil possibly know? How could anybody? Sure, they could have little glimpses, but nothing tangible. They wouldn’t feel dysphoria.

They wouldn’t feel this tired.

There’s a certain level of self hatred, but a lot of it was just the dysphoria. It makes him want to physically claw off his own skin.

-

School is stressful. He feels like he’s falling apart under the pressure of it. He’s doing too much and yet he still feels like he’s not doing enough. He stops doing his homework completely because whenever he hands it in and gets anything less than a perfect score; he feels like he’s failed somehow.

Of course, he hasn’t failed just because he has gotten a lower score, but still.

His mind is constantly messing with him and he’s so tired.

-

Phil’s embrace is more than welcoming after a long day. Dan melts into his arms, taking a long, shuddering breath and burying his face into Phil’s chest.

Take another deep breath. Now, close your eyes. Feel, where are you?

In, and out, darkness. Phil’s arms, Phil’s body, Phil’s heart, beating slowly and steadily beneath Dan’s cheek, further calming him. Phil’s saying something, maybe asking if Dan’s okay. Or alternatively, what’s wrong.

God, it feels like everything is wrong.

Everything, and it’s all piling up.

It’s too much. It’s all just - too much. He doesn’t know if he can deal with it anymore. He misses the sharp kiss of the blade against his pale skin.

But he’s here in Phil’s arms, safe from physical harm.

l

Only for the time being. Phil would leave and then - and then.

God.

Since when does the world spin like this? Since when does the world hurt like this?

Phil’s arms are drawing tighter around Dan’s thin body, one hand coming up to comb gently through Dan’s ever-so-slightly curly hair.

“It’ll be okay, Danny,” Phil’s saying.

But the thing is, it doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay. Because everything hurts but at the same time everything’s so empty and heavy and full and painful. In Dan’s eyes, it’s not going to be okay. Not by a long shot. He feels so broken, and used up, and thoroughly useless.

He’s none of those things.

But his mind refuses to think of himself as anything but that.

Phil’s arms are around him, holding him together. When all Dan is doing is breaking apart.

-

Phil’s gone. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d been worried about Dan. They’re all worried, all the time. Phil, the teachers at school, Dan’s parents.

But Phil had to leave.

And Dan is now alone. Feeling the worst that he has in a long time. And he doesn’t know what to do.

-

Everything’s hazy. It’s like he’s looking at his life through a keyhole. Not really there. It’s almost as if he can’t feel anything. Is he dreaming? He can’t remember going to sleep but he still doesn’t feel like he’s properly awake. Through a keyhole. Hazy. Dream-like. Sitting on the edge of a bathtub, rolling up his sleeves.

Numb.

A razor, in his hand.

And god is he really going to do this?

-

Sleep is laced through with unease.

-

The feeling’s not gone the next day. He had hoped that after a good night’s sleep that the hurt would go away.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the day.

The binder fits too tight. His hair is growing out a little and it only adds to the dysphoria. Everything feels too feminine. Too much. Way too much. Make it stop, please.

-

He walks to school, the overcast sky reflecting his emotional state perfectly.

He pauses, in front of the school door, weighing his options.

Then, he turns around and walks in the opposite direction. Fuck school.

-

He doesn’t go home. God, he doesn’t want to go ‘home’ ever again. He goes to the park instead, where he and Phil had been. Except that now Phil’s not there. Instead, there are countless children and their parents. He almost regrets coming but sits down on the edge of a bench anyway, pulling a book out of his bag and trying to lose himself in the story. At least for a little while.

It’s weird, how invisible he is.

Nobody seems to notice him.

Nobody bothers him.

He almost wishes that he could do this everyday. Until he remembers how much school he’s missing and feels his throat choke up. Too much, this is all too much, and yet not enough.

-

Phil texts him just after noon, when Dan would usually meet him.

Dan doesn’t reply.

-

Everything is falling apart at a steady pace and there’s nothing that Dan can do to stop it.

-

That night, Dan lays in bed, his hands resting on his stomach, tears racing down his cheeks. He thinks, ‘I need Phil’, and then, ‘I need Nicole’, and after that he hates himself a little bit more.

-

The amount of notifications that Dan wakes up to is absolutely horrifying, in his opinion. Dozens from Phil. Even one from Nicole. He breath catches in his throat as he sees it;

Nic: where have you been ive missed u

He doesn’t know if he can reply to it. He does anyway.

Dan: i miss you too.

And he does. Fuck, he does.

He locks his phone again before he replies to Phil. A sick feeling settles in his belly.

-

At lunch the next day, Dan’s almost disappointed to see that Phil isn’t yet sitting on the dusty patch of ground behind the building. He pulls out the same book that he had started yesterday, and begins reading. He’s hoping that Phil will show up.

But scared, too, because he’s so unresponsive. He’s scared that Phil will think that Dan doesn’t like him and he’s scared that Phil won’t see how lost Dan is.

But fear isn’t helping him so he pushes it down and tries so hard to focus on the words in front of him. He doesn’t know if it’s working.

Phil does show up. He’s not mad that Dan hadn’t been there the day before, instead, he was worried about how Dan was feeling.

Phil says, “Hey Danny.”

And Dan says, “I told you to stop calling me that.”

And then Phil hugs him again and all Dan can think is: Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Because what did he do to deserve someone like this? Since when did he get to be with the Good Guy? Since when did someone who actually cared about things pay any sort of attention to him?

Usually it was someone looking for a good fuck.

Or Nicole, who simply didn’t have her life together enough to care.

Dan lets Phil hold him and is scared that Phil will leave once he realizes how well and truly fucked up Dan feels.

-

Feeling good is something that takes a long time. Dan feels a spark of it that night when Phil texts him saying:

Phil: Goodnight dannyyyyyyy <3333

The spark being Dan’s stomach flopping around happily. Happily. Happiness. It’s something that he has a hard time feeling.

But with Phil, it seems to come easier.

-

Dan wakes up feeling a bit more awake than usual. He tells himself that this means he’s getting over the depression, though he can still feel it lurking there, right under his skin, waiting for the worst time to make it’s re-appearance.