Work Text:
when no one else is around
I’ll lift you back off the ground
and since we came here together
we'll leave with each other now
*
There’s nothing quiet about the Vegas strip. The restaurants are loud and crowded, the bars are loud and crowded, the streets at 2am (and 3am, and 4am) are loud and crowded. In some ways it’s exciting, an entire night spent out in the warm and dry desert air, a thrum of electric night-time energy in the streets here that doesn’t seem to be as magnified anywhere else in the world. But after three-quarters of a national tour where thousands of pairs of eyes are on him for hours at a time, Dan finds it strangely comfortable to be relatively anonymous to the general public in a back room of this tucked-away dive bar on Fremont Street. The more laid-back north end of town was a nice change of pace from the strip and its overabundance of lights and sounds. Phil, Martyn, and Cornelia thought of that when picking a place for the tour company to celebrate Dan’s birthday, and they’ve been here for hours.
It's late now, and everyone decides to start heading out if they’re going to make their 8am call time at the bus tomorrow morning. When most of the crew goes out to the bar to settle their tab, Dan finally gets a chance to sneak away down the cramped hallway to the bathroom, pleasantly buzzing with mild intoxication. Warm and fuzzy-tinged, the world slightly more blurry than normal, Dan goes to push open the door.
He feels him before he hears him, the air actually changes for a split second before a thin arm winds around his waist and Phil pulls Dan’s back gently against his chest.
"Did you have a good birthday?"
“Mm,” Dan affirms, shivering slightly when Phil latches against Dan's earlobe, the soft flesh pliant between his teeth.
Dan clenches his fingers against the arm around his waist, bathroom trip forgotten, matching the pleased sigh behind him with one of his own. He doesn't feel his head drop back, only realizes his neck is exposed when Phil dips down and drags his tongue up it, from shoulder to jaw.
“Did I… fuck,” he arches his back when Phil slides a hand just past his waistband, fingertips against Dan’s navel, “...Get all the cake off my face?”
"Hmm," Phil considers, kissing lightly up the same line. “Nope.”
"Phil," They're pretty much in near darkness this far down the hall but Dan angles his head minutely toward the bar, the faint sounds of laughing in the distance.
Phil finally turns him around, presses small, pecking kisses across Dan’s lips. When Dan finally opens his eyes, Phil draws him close as his lips find Dan’s cheek, soft and sweet.
"Happy birthday, Dan."
Dan feels the words come out of Phil’s mouth, and he reaches to pull it against his own again, and again, and again. He loses track of time and vaguely, in some far-away, rational corner of his muddled mind thinks they’ve both been away from the group too long.
“Get me out of here,” he breaks apart and begs, warm and insistent into Phil’s open mouth.
*
Dan drapes himself against Phil’s back when they get out of the elevator and to their hotel room door, presses his hot open mouth against Phil’s shoulder blades right through his t-shirt. Phil’s finding it really hard to concentrate on getting the key card in the right way, and Dan's grinning at Phil’s whispered obscenities at the stubborn lock.
Dan reaches around, grabbing the key card out of Phil’s hand and sliding it in the reader. The other arm snakes around Phil’s waist, pulling his ass firmly against Dan’s front. Phil’s breath hitches in his throat at the hard pressure blatantly nestling against him.
The lock clicks and Dan opens the door to their suite, Phil kicking it with his foot. “I don’t even know why that turned me on so much,” he mutters, breath leaving his body again when Dan laughingly pushes him against the closed door, full-on attacking his mouth with deep kisses.
“Get this off,” Phil pants against Dan’s mouth, pulling at the hem of Dan’s shirt to get it up and over his head. Phil tugs off his own shirt before he reels Dan back in, shivering at the feeling of their heated skin finally coming together.
They start toeing their shoes off simultaneously, laughing at each other when Phil tries to kick them across the room and nothing happens, or Dan can't get the zippers on his undone without bending over to use his hands.
Grinning (and with feet finally bare), Dan holds Phil's face against his again, kissing and biting against his lips until Phil can't take it anymore. He pushes Dan flush with back of the door as he surges up, mouth connecting with mouth the same time his thigh presses against Dan’s cock.
“Fucking --” Dan gets out against Phil’s mouth in a surprised gasp, nails digging in against his shoulders. Phil bends his back a little, slides down to lean his face into Dan’s neck as his thigh presses up again and again, friction hot and insistent even through the rough denim of their jeans. Phil's fingers are scrabbling at the clasp at Dan’s waist, one leg hitched up around Phil’s thigh to make room for him. He keens when Phil finally loosens the waistband, sliding his palms around Dan’s ass and roughly tugging him closer.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Dan begs, head thrashing back and forth against the door, completely gone with lust, and Phil suddenly feels a building heat deep in his core over seeing him like that. Walls down, cheeks splashed in scarlet, pupils blown black and wide surrounded by a thin ring of caramel.
“Bedroom -- Bed --” Pushing at Phil’s shoulders, Dan’s finding it hard to put sentences together when Phil’s mouth is working hard on blossoming a hickey against the taut skin below his jaw, but he figures Phil will get the gist of that one. Phil breaks the kiss to lean down, peeling Dan’s jeans off with him before he surges back up.
“Fuck the bed,” Phil huffs out, grabbing on to the underside of Dan’s thighs and lifting, his long legs having no choice but to come off the carpet and wrap around Phil’s waist as he hangs on for dear life.
“Phil, oh my God -- ” It’s more of an exclamation of surprise than anything, but when he says it the second time, “Oh, my God --” it’s from Phil’s hands latching on to his ass and pulling Dan’s body closer, forcing Dan’s ankles to hook behind him and his dick to press firmly into Phil's. He doesn’t know where this came from but he isn’t asking questions, just moves his face to catch Phil’s mouth in his own, gets a hand up to push into Phil’s hair and tug gently on the strands damp with sweat.
“I haven’t done that since Japan,” Phil muses, and Dan locks an arm around Phil’s shoulders, huffs out a laugh when Phil leans Dan’s weight back against the wall. Dan tips down Phil’s chin and kisses his mouth open, hot and wet, and whispers into it.
“You should do it more often,” Dan tightens his thighs, pushes his hips forward to press pointedly between Phil’s legs. If he’s being honest, he’s a little afraid to make any sudden movements for fear of tipping their center of gravity and pitching Phil backward.
As if he hears him, Phil breaks their kiss quickly, mutters, “Don't worry, I got you,” against Dan’s mouth before diving in again.
"I know," Dan breathes.
Phil pulls them from the wall, Dan light-headed with want as he feels himself get carried the short distance across the room. Phil gets to the couch and sets him down gently, and Dan quickly pulls Phil down next to him by his wrist. Phil looks confused for a second, Dan’s grip pulling him out of the plan he’d laid, but he doesn’t have time to ask what’s happening. Before he can form a sentence, Dan’s sliding down Phil’s body, pushing his legs apart as he gets to the floor on his knees.
Still in a fair bit of shock, it's truthfully not until his jeans are completely off, strewn across the room somewhere, Dan with his fingertips in the elastic at Phil's waist that Phil truly understands what’s going on. Dan's kissing him like it's about to go out of style, but he breaks it. His hands knead against Phil's thighs, thumbs pressing into the dips of his hipbones. "I want to," he hums throatily to Phil's swollen lips, tender and sensitive from the last half hour.
"Yes, yes of course --" Dan starts to lean down but Phil takes hold of his face, gives him a serious gaze. "But it’s your birthday, I thought I’d -- ” But Dan doesn’t let him finish.
His face erupts into a grin, bared teeth and all. "I'm the one who had dreams about this, remember?"
Phil finds he can't stay serious looking at that grin, so he just huffs out a surprised laugh, Dan's face falling gently out of his hands as he descends between his thighs.
Dan’s got a lot of talents, and lucky for Phil one of them happens to be the unbelievably thorough and calculated way he can use only his mouth to make Phil come harder than he ever has before. But that’s not really in the cards right now, because even though they both like to call the shots in the bedroom depending on their mood, on Dan’s birthday it’s all him.
“You feel so good,” Phil murmurs to the air, head tipped back and rolling the shell of Dan’s ear between two of his fingers. “So good on me like that.” He can’t stop squirming, can’t fully check out mentally because he has to make sure he doesn’t thrust up too strongly.
Dan hums, sits up a little straighter on his knees so he can bob further down, and Phil drops his hand to the joint of Dan’s shoulder and neck. He squeezes tight at the muscle there, moaning out loud when Dan does the same against his thigh, nails digging in.
In spite of himself, Phil’s hand creeps up against the crown of Dan’s head, just resting there and letting the threads fall softly in and out of his fingers as Dan moves. It’s maddening, the rhythmic tickle against his knuckles, and Dan pulls back to catch his breath, rough voice pleading, “Pull my hair,” and that’s all Phil needs to tighten a hand around Dan’s curling strands, tugging hard when Dan moans against him with a full mouth.
Phil feels a wave of goosebumps flood over his skin when Dan pulls up fully, his lips falling off with a wet pop, “I want you to fuck me,” Dan’s saying suddenly against Phil’s mouth, open and biting in something too hot and messy to be called a kiss, getting to his feet and pulling at Phil’s hand all in the same motion.
“Please,” he cries out, swallowing Phil’s noises down because he refuses to separate, “Now.”
Dan nudges him backwards into the bedroom, their kissing frantic and insistent. He reaches into his bag on the floor before he climbs back into Phil’s lap, palms warm against Phil’s chest when he presses him down into the mattress. Phil’s hand comes up to grip around the back of Dan’s neck and pull him down into a kiss, the other closing around the small plastic bottle Dan’s pressed into his belly.
It hits Phil that it's going too fast, he wants Dan to enjoy this, memorize this moment and this time and place, them here together, and how all these things combined make him feel. He presses a palm against the heartbeat crashing in Dan’s chest, the other cradling the soft curve of his jawbone. Phil slows down to half time, lets his leisurely kiss set their pace, Dan panting roughly, squirming, trying to come down.
“Phil,” Dan’s voice is a whine against Phil’s lips, half question and half impatience, his hips pressing tiny waves against Phil’s lap. Phil lets his hands fall, grip around hipbones that fit flawlessly into his palms, fingertips digging in, “Don’t make me beg,” Dan pleads.
Phil pulls at Dan’s hips, presses their bodies together even harder and swallows Dan’s quiet moans, “I kind of like it when you beg,” he confesses, and Dan’s grin and laugh break their kiss apart. He tugs on Phil’s shoulder as he rolls to lay on his back, tugging Phil to bracket above him, sighing pleasantly when Phil leans down and keeps kissing him.
They could do this for hours until they needed more, mouths moving together in familiar tandem, hands skimming softly against the surface of skin. But if this tour has taught them anything it’s that time spent in private is of the essence and Dan wants to utilize every spare second they have to the fullest.
Phil reads his mind and settles between Dan’s thighs, his hands pushing at the back of Dan’s knees until they’re bent. Phil smiles when Dan wiggles excitedly, spreading his knees even wider than the modest distance Phil set up.
“Eager?” Phil teases, squeezing a little from the tiny bottle against the fingers on his right hand.
“Fuck, yes,” Dan says unabashedly, grinning back. Phil huffs a laugh against Dan’s lips, connecting their mouths again as his middle finger circles and finally presses in fully.
Dan’s laugh jolts into a moan instantly, and gets lost in the space between their mouths. He surges up, rolling his hips and sliding his hands around the back of Phil’s neck, pulling at the ends of his hair desperately. Phil lets his mouth drop down, kissing against Dan’s chest and stomach lightly before landing against at the corner of a hip. He worries his tongue and teeth against the skin there, stretched so delicately over the bones, and laps lovingly once he sees pink and purple marks blossoming.
Dan pulls his knees up, writhes against the soft hotel sheets when Phil presses sloppy kisses against Dan’s inner thighs and presses his finger a little deeper. Tiny whimpers are pulling themselves out of Dan’s throat, Phil sucking a little harder at Dan’s skin every time he hears a loud one. When Phil finally runs his tongue along the underside of Dan’s cock, laying hot against his stomach, Dan lets out the loudest moan of the night.
“Fucking hell, Phil – ” Is all Dan gets out because the rest is in a jumble and Phil’s pretty sure bits of it are also not even a language, just sounds sewn together and shouted against Dan’s own fist he has shoved against his mouth to muffle the noise. Phil doesn’t stop, just quickly licks a long stripe up his free hand and wraps it around the base, working his fist up and down slowly as he runs the flat roughness of his tongue along the head. Phil keeps his other hand moving, turns his palm around and crooks his finger up experimentally against the spot that makes Dan cry out loudly.
Dan downright loses it when Phil slides a second finger in next to the first. “I love how it’s only – fucking – times like these that you’re so – god – coordinated. Jesus,” Dan’s voice is low against his breathy moans, wild and out of control and all music to Phil’s ears as he smiles to himself, not answering in favor of staying focused on his tasks.
It takes effort for Dan to get up to his elbows, the entire lower half of his body erupting in shivers every time Phil rubs the pads of his two fingers around inside. Somehow he makes it up, and has enough presence of mind to card the fingers of one of his hands softly through Phil’s soft strands.
Phil doesn’t tear his eyes away. Not when Dan trails the hand down the side of Phil’s face, his thumb laying a path on his cheek. Not when Dan’s hips move slightly against Phil’s fingers, tentatively, not wanting this to be over too quickly but desperately wanting to get closer.
Phil finally lets his head drop as he pushes up, pressing his lips in a line up Dan’s body, Dan’s fingers squeezing into his shoulder as he drags him up, drawing him against his neck. Phil obliges, nuzzling gently against the underside of Dan’s jaw until he nips at the sensitive skin there and Dan yelps under his breath.
“You good?” Phil asks into Dan’s ear, teeth grazing the side of his jaw.
“Yeah, yes, I’m ready,” Dan babbles, riding the wave of shivers stemming from Phil’s mouth on his sensitive neck. “Phil, Phil.”
Phil keeps up the consistent rhythm of his fingers, bites gently at Dan’s earlobe. “Yeah,” he agrees, and Dan pushes Phil’s arm away, fingers falling away gently, and reaches for Phil’s cock.
“Yeah,” Softer and drawn out longer into the side of Dan’s neck, the waves of Dan’s steady pulls washing over Phil. Phil’s finding it hard to put his attention anywhere but the feeling of Dan’s fingers wrapped around him, his mouth huffing hot breaths against Dan’s cheek.
“I want to ride you,” Dan says, his loose fist still working. Phil makes an affirmative sound but his eyes close and his forehead drops to Dan’s shoulder, his body making no moves. “Phil.”
Phil’s practically a dead weight, left arm locked to hold himself up but otherwise limp with pleasure against Dan’s chest. Dan’s fist works him up and down, and when Phil doesn't make any moves, Dan tips his head sideways and sinks his teeth firmly into the soft cap of Phil’s shoulder.
Phil yelps, head shooting up and face scrunched up in pain. “Earth to Phil,” Dan says, smiling.
“Sorry, right,” Phil apologizes, and lets Dan manhandle him until he’s leaning back part way against the padded headboard. His hands slide against the milky skin of Dan’s thighs when he climbs over Phil, fingers kneading into the soft flesh. “Like this?” Phil checks, Dan reaching up to grip against the edge of the frame, arms at the sides of Phil’s head.
“Yeah,” Dan breathes, ducking in to kiss him, licking into Phil’s mouth and whimpering softly when he feels Phil’s fingertips sliding along the cleft of his ass. “Now, now please.”
Phil doesn't want to make him work for it tonight, play games or be coy, he wants to give Dan any and everything he asks for.
“Just like this. I want you close,” Dan murmurs against Phil’s lips, winds his arms around Phil’s neck and brings their chests flush. Dan makes a low noise in his throat when he feels him reach down and start to push inside slowly. He edges his hips back a little to meet him and breathes deep, Phil rubbing along Dan’s lower back like he knows he likes.
Phil’s perfect beneath Dan, slow and comforting and talking to him softly. “Dan, so good,” he breathes against Dan’s cheek, words true and clear albeit not featuring any terribly advanced vocabulary when he's this worked up and surrounded by Dan, completely skin-stupid. “So beautiful.”
Dan finally feels his ass meet Phil’s thighs and he raises his head, tossing his hair back. It's sweaty and curling and his face is flushed and patchy and Phil is so, so fucking lucky and so in love that it hurts for a second. Dan opens his eyes and after a moment, grins.
He takes stock of Phil’s serious expression and his hands trail to Phil’s shoulders, squeezing. “What's wrong?”
Phil just shakes his head, tightens his trembling fingers at Dan’s hipbones and pulls in. He doesn't want to break the moment just yet. “Nothing. Come closer,” Phil’s wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist, easy due to their short distance apart, and Dan moans at the sudden drag, slow and intense and everything he wanted right then.
They work up a slow rhythm, Dan setting the pace and shivering every time Phil grabs two handfuls of flesh at Dan’s ass and kneads. It's quiet for a few minutes, the two of them staying close and moving together, until Phil speaks.
“Do you remember --” Phil starts conversationally, like his dick hadn't just hit Dan’s sweet spot so surely that it made Dan see stars, “Your first birthday we were together?”
Dan groans, leans his head back and closes his eyes when Phil runs his hands up his ribs, remembering. They’d been together only about half a year then, fresh and crackling with love and lust every time they were within a mile of each other. Phil had woken up Dan with his hand wrapped around his cock under the covers, the 5am light of dawn barely creeping through Phil’s window on the day they had to catch a plane to LA. He’d made him come twice in the span of an hour and sucked a fresh purple bruise along Dan’s ribs that stayed there for a week.
“Fuck,” Dan cries out, almost pained-sounding, the memories hitting him like a ton of bricks and he loses his rhythm for a second. “I was so fucking sore on the plane and I couldn’t take my shirt off at the beach the entire time we were in LA, you twat.”
Phil grins, lets his eyes flutter closed when he leans his head back against the headboard. “Your birthday before you moved out of uni,” A weekend before he said goodbye to his higher education life forever he was blessed with one single night of no flatmates being home and they took advantage of it. Several times.
“That… tiny bed,” Dan manages to choke out, laughing a little. He stops when he arches his back, aiming accurately and Phil hits him right in the sweet spot again. “God, Phil.”
“Up on the balcony that one time,” Phil continues, finally wraps a hand around Dan’s cock, sliding a loose fist up and down with the rhythm Dan’s got on his lap, “You looked so good.”
In the moonlight. Dan remembers Phil telling him that. They’d purposefully spent Dan’s entire birthday inside their Manchester flat, equal time watching movies, playing games, eating Phil’s homemade cake, and hooking up. They were spread out on the couch post two-hour Mario Kart binge when Dan confessed he’d had a balcony fantasy since the day they moved in. Phil threw his controller across the room and Dan helped him drape every bedsheet they owned around the perimeter of it, their blankets piled on the ground in a makeshift bed. He’d gripped the metal bars hard when Phil murmured against his skin how beautiful he looked, felt bathed in love when he’d reached up to bring Phil closer.
Dan whimpers, leans forward to brace his palms on Phil’s chest, head falling between his elbows as Phil fucks him. Thigh muscles screaming out, he finally sits down fully, stops Phil’s movements by taking him all the way in again, rocking his hips slowly. Phil looks properly out of his mind now, eyes shut tight with concentration and utter bliss, a worry line right between his eyebrows that Dan leans forward and kisses.
“While our first trip to Vegas was unbelievable,” Dan contends, the even-tempered drag of all his body weight centered in one area driving Phil mad, “I hope you'll not be offended when I say this one has officially beat it.”
Phil laughs weakly, his head tipping back and a broken moan escaping his throat when Dan leans his mouth against Phil’s neck. He nips a light mark there where the skin curves from neck into shoulder, one that’ll fade quickly from Phil’s skin. “Someday I’ll mark you up good,” Dan promises under his breath, and if Phil wasn’t listening so intently he’d have missed it, “Won’t matter if someone sees.”
And it’s like a switch gets turned on, Dan starts to move faster and harder, Phil has to just hang on for the literal ride, fist around Dan’s cock trying match rhythm as best as it can. Phil tells him how good Dan feels above him, filthy lines only for Dan spoken out loud in their dark hotel room that drive him mad, have him crying out and clenching at Phil’s shoulders as he moves. Dan’s begging for it now, pleading with Phil to finish him off and it all seems to happen at once. Phil turns his wrist on the upstroke, runs his thumb along the head again, and it’s the perfect combination for Dan to go still, throw his head back, and rake his fingernails down Phil’s chest as he comes.
They leave ten thin lines in their wake, stark fuschia against the pale of Phil’s torso, and the sharp intensity of it makes Phil offer one final thrust before he sees stars behind his eyelids. All he can seem to do is hang on through it, fingers tightening and loosening against Dan’s thighs as Dan pitches forward, moaning brokenly at the feeling of being filled up.
It’s at least a full minute before they have enough oxygen in their lungs to speak. Sixty seconds of being there, together in each other’s spaces, Dan’s forehead on Phil’s shoulder and Phil’s hands rubbing his back and neck softly. Staying close like Dan wanted. Phil thinks Dan might be asleep for a second, until he says, “Well.”
“Well,” Phil responds.
Dan edges off of Phil, wincing a little, only to promptly sit back down in his lap. “Well, I hope they don’t have earthquakes here because there’s no way in hell I’m moving from this spot for a very long time.”
“We should probably move at some point, Dan.”
“No. Not even for an earthquake. Or a fire. Or a flood or a hurricane. Do they get those here?”
“This is a desert.”
“Then not for a…” Phil feels Dan rub his face, forehead still pressed down, but pivoting his gaze towards Phil’s. “Sand devil? Is that a thing? I feel like that’s a thing.”
“The word you are looking for is dust devil.”
“Fuck you, Phil. It’s my birthday for God’s sake.” Dan pulls back finally, sliding his hands over Phil’s cheeks when he reels him in. He meets Phil softly, Phil responding immediately and opening up for Dan, the kiss going deeper but urgent heat gone in favor of longer touches and slower strokes until their heart rates decelerate, simmering down to normal with the deep breaths they pull in and out.
“I love you, you know that?” Phil runs a hand absently across Dan’s hairline, pushes the strands back off his forehead. “I mean, every day, not just on your birthday when I’m contractually obligated to be nice to you.”
Dan shrugs noncommittally. “I had a feeling.”
“Did you really?” Phil asks, feigning surprise.
“Mhm.” Dan twirls a strand of black hair in one hand, thick at the back of Phil’s neck. “I love you too. Even when you’re lazy and make me go on top and do all the work. And on my birthday, no less.”
“Hey,” Phil starts indignantly, “You’re the one who said you wanted to -- ” But Dan seizes forward, captures Phil’s lips in his own again. Their kissing is sloppy and filled with laughter and Phil’s grin is biting sharp at his lips and Dan is so, so fucking lucky and so in love that it doesn't hurt at all.