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Phil is kissing all the men.
Not simultaneously, since that would result in quite a mess. Not that whatever’s happening now isn’t messy, the smacking and the touching and the wet lips all over each other.
All Phil had to do was to tell everybody that he thinks he’s gay, and now he’s sitting in a dark armchair with a guy in his lap and for the last couple of minutes he’s been kissing all the men.
Or, actually not all of them. Because in the corner of the room, Dan is standing, leaning against the wall, trying to look nonchalant.
It’s not going well. Firstly, he doesn’t even want to be here. He’s not a big fan of parties, or being social in general, and this place is bulging with people. He’s two houses down the street from his dorm, in a lounge that looks just like the one in his corridor. Almost every room in the house is filled to its full capacity with drunk students, and they’re all making out, dancing, yelling. The music is deafening and the air is thick and sweaty from all the wasted teenage bodies. He’s already been exposed to a drunk girl trying to touch him under his shirt, and has gotten half a pint thrown over him from behind. He really would rather be alone in the safety of his room than be where he is right now.
Secondly, Dan only came here because he found out that Phil was going to be here. The tall, slender emo boy, with the black fringe and black skinny jeans. The guy who makes Youtube videos in his room, and has thousands of subscribers, and barely knows about Dan's existence. Or, Phil’s answered to a few of Dan’s comments, but Dan is not sure that he knows that the owner of Danisnotonfire is him, and that he’s actually here. At the same party. He’s not even sure that Phil’s aware that there’s one guy in the room that isn’t kissing him.
Because Phil is having the time of his life at the moment. All the straight boys are all over him, taking turns kissing his flushed face. He looks happy. He’s giggling. His checkered buttoned up shirt has been unbuttoned, revealing dark hair on his pale chest. His tongue peeks out between his teeth when he smiles, and his usual straightened emo fringe is a mess.
Dan swallows thickly as he observes the scene play out in front of him. He shouldn’t be staring, but so much is happening, not only in the room but also inside of him. His stomach is fluttering, the sight of the guys kissing Phil is like something from a wet dream. It’s erotic. It’s hot. Dan holds his plastic cup filled with the too sweet peach schnapps with both of his hands, fingers interlocked around the cup, and tries to focus on his breathing. He does not want to get visibly aroused here, not with all these people surrounding him. It’s awkward enough that he’s frozen in place, unable to move, staring at Phil. It’s embarrassing enough that he’s not in line with all the other guys, looking cool and relaxed and ready for a casual smooch.
Arousal is not the only thing Dan’s feeling at this moment. Something darker and heavier is tugging at the back of his throat. A feeling that makes him feel both cold and hot at the same time. A feeling that he has no right to feel, because Phil isn’t doing anything wrong, Phil isn’t breaking any rules, heck, Phil isn’t even his to claim. But at the sight of the toned blonde guy that at this very moment is sitting in Phil’s lap, running his fingers through Phil’s black hair and licking the inside of Phil’s mouth with his tongue, Dan can’t help but feel jealous.
Jealous, because he’s not the one kissing Phil. He’s the one who’s been stalking Phil for months, he’s the one who’s been first to watch his videos when they upload, and he’s the one who’s gotten a lot of replies on twitter. But he’s not the one kissing Phil.
Dan chews at the inside of his cheek as the blonde guy makes room for a tall emo guy who starts making out with Phil by leaning over the armchair from behind. The guy's hands move over Phil’s flat chest as their tongues sloppily explore each other and the group of people surrounding them cheers on. A new wave of jealousy hits Dan because he should be the one doing what that random guy is doing, but he isn’t. He can’t. Because Dan is not out.
When the fifth, or sixth, or seventh guy approaches Phil for a snog, Dan can’t take it anymore. He backs out of the lounge, his sweaty, clammy hands still holding on to his plastic cup for dear life. He’s a bit disoriented as he enters the hallway, as if this dorm isn’t an exact replica of his own. He almost backs into a couple indulging themselves in some sort of mating ritual, and excuses himself despite them not paying him any attention.
Dan doesn't know where to go. He feels trapped and lost at the same time. The walls are closing in on him, and everywhere he looks he sees bodies, moving, touching each other, dancing. The music is deafening and not at all his usual music taste, and at the moment he doesn’t even know what’s playing, just that he doesn’t enjoy it. He can’t dance even if his life depended on it, and everyone seems to be past the talking stage, so even if he wanted to talk nobody really seems to be up for a chat. Why did he even come here in the first place? What did he think would happen? Phil is confident in himself and popular, and has over 7000 friends on myspace, of course he would find stuff and people to do at a party. Phil looks so socially competent. Dan is not.
Dan takes a glance down the plastic mug in his hand. There’s still some more peach schnapps left at the bottom, pale and obnoxious, and it’s staring back up at him. Dan has zero good experiences with this exact liquor, but someone gave it to him for free when he entered the house and since he brought no alcohol himself he’s now clinging onto the gooey liquid for dear life. Right now that sad puddle of peach schnapps feels like his only way out of this hell scape, so he ignores his brain telling him no, lifts the cup to his lips and downs the rest of the content in one go.
Just as he’s debating whether or not to walk out of the door at the end of the hallway and straight home to his safe space that is his room, Dan feels a firm hand grasp his wrist. Caught off guard and with no time to register anything, he feels himself getting dragged into the nearest room.
“Gosh, I can’t even hear my own thoughts,” Phil exhales as he closes the door behind them. Dan barely hears his own thoughts either, but it’s because he only hears the loud heartbeat that echoes in his head. He stares at Phil, who invites himself to sit down at the edge of the bed in the room.They seem to have stumbled into someone's dorm room, and by judging of Phil’s curious look he doesn’t seem to know who it belongs to.
“Cool posters, I like this room,” Phil says as he eyes the walls of the room and the band posters covering them. Dan still hasn’t moved since the door closed, and is standing as if frozen to the ground, staring at Phil, who now moves his eyes to Dan.
“Do you?” he asks with a smirk, and Dan almost chokes on his own breath.
“W- what?” Dan croaks, which brings out a chuckle from Phil. Dan can feel his face shift color as heat spreads over his cheeks, and the look Phil gives him speaks of amusement and endearment. The blue eyes, that he in a way knows like they were his own from the countless times he’s watched Phil’s youtube videos, look into his own intensively. Fact is they look at Dan with such warmth that Dan feels himself melt out of his frozen position, and his shoulders lower as he exhales.
“Sorry,” Dan hears himself continue, “I think I’ve had too much of this hideous peach alcohol thing, I can’t really think clearly at the moment”.
“Ugh, don’t even mention it,” Phil says as he drags his hands through his black hair, before he stops himself and lets his hands fall to his knees. “I look like a mess”.
The sight of Phil sitting in front of him with the messiest emo fringe Dan has ever seen brings out a chuckle from him. It’s just so surreal, the entire situation, and the deep, dark jealousy he felt just a couple of minutes ago is long gone. Right now it’s just the two of them in this random room.
“Your hair actually looks quite messy,” Dan confirms with a giggle, and Phil’s hands fly up to cover his mouth.
“Abuse,” he chuckles, eyes wide in pretended shock. “I promise it was perfect before I left my room tonight, but it’s been through a lot, you can’t really blame it.”
He eyes Dan up and down quickly before he adds “Also, you don’t have the right to bully me just because your fringe is flawless”.
Dan feels his cheeks reach another level of hot, which he didn’t think was possible at this point. He bites his lip as he looks at Phil, unable to neither say anything or remove his gaze, and for a moment time stands still. The loud music is muffled by the door, and despite the constant singing and shouting just outside of the room they're in, everything feels quiet.
“I don’t see a mirror here,” Phil suddenly says, looking around. “Could you help me sort out my fringe?”
In another universe, Dan would freak out from being asked that by his crush. He would’ve remained frozen to the ground, barely breathing, not saying anything. In this universe though he doesn’t hesitate even for a millisecond before he walks over to where Phil is at the edge of the bed and sits down next to him. The bed sinks down a little from his weight and they both end up sitting closer to each other than Dan originally intended, but neither one of them shifts away. Their thighs are mere inches away from touching and Dan can feel the warmth from Phil’s legs radiate onto his own. It takes everything in his power to not reach out a hand and just let it rest on the jeans covered thigh, maybe stroke it gently with his thumb. Dan swallows thickly and tries to stop his mind from wherever he can feel it heading, and instead looks up at Phil.
Phil’s eyes are even bluer up close, but they also display hints of green and yellow, colors Dan hasn't been able to distinguish through his laptop screen before. Phil’s cheeks are flushed red, his lips are plump and bruised from the intense kissing that took place just a couple of minutes ago, and Dan can feel his exhales dance on his cheeks, warm and moist.
“If you could just… I don’t know, flatten it?” Phil asks, fingers tugging at the black strands that makes out his fringe. “Or are we past that point? Do I need to redo my entire hair?”
“No, I think- Yeah, or, I mean- I think it's salvageable,” Dan answers while silently cursing himself for not being able to speak properly. Phil must think he’s a loser, all blushing and stuttering, unable to form normal sentences.
But something about the way Phil looks at Dan tells him that that’s not the case.
“Go for it,” Phil says as he drops his hands in his lap and turns himself towards Dan. “Anything’ll look better than this bird nest.”
Their legs are touching now, and Phil’s knee is firmly planted towards Dan’s thigh. Dan doesn’t want to break the touch, but he needs to turn himself more towards Phil to be able to comfortably reach his fringe. Once again, another version of him would probably be too afraid to move, but this Dan, a Dan fueled by sweet sticky peach snaps, shuffles himself so he’s angled towards Phil without thinking twice about it. They now sit facing each other, their knees pressed together, and Dan raises his hand to Phil’s hair.
He’s not really sure what to expect, but Phil’s hair is almost completely stiff from hairspray. Dan has always thought it looks soft, and has imagined himself running his hands through this exact hair a million times, but not like this. He feels a giggle build up inside of him, fueled by a mix of nervousness and surprise from the sticky hair.
“What?” Phil asks, eyes curiously reading Dan’s face in search of a clue.
“It’s so… sticky,” Dan chokes out.
Phil looks at him, eyebrows furred but eyes filled with amusement as Dan continues.
“I always imagined it being softer, it looks so soft.”
Dan drags his fingers through the rough strands of hair, trying to get them to lay flat but to no avail.
“Did you really think my hair looked like this naturally?” Phil chuckles as Dan starts to laugh even more, his fingers desperately trying to make a fringe out of the stiff strands. “I need hairspray for it to look like this.”
“But THIS much hairspray?”
“What, do you not use a whole can of hairspray for your hair?” Phil giggles, and lifts his hands to touch Dan’s straightened fringe, eyes widening when he feels the strands between his fingers. “What? Your hair is soft! How do you do that?”
Dan’s unable to answer as he’s folded over from laughing, a loud, genuine laugh coming from deep within. It’s not even that funny, but the absurdity of the whole situation has gotten to him and now he can’t stop.
They’re right in the middle of their giggle session when the door slams open, making Dan jump up from the bed. One of the blonde boys that were making out with Phil earlier stands in the doorway, swaying slightly from side to side as his eyes and last functioning brain cell try to cooperate to make out what he’s seeing.
“Phil, there you are,” he splutters as his eyes land on Phil. “You disappeared.”
“Nah, I know exactly where I am,” Phil answers before he turns his face to Dan, and first now does the guy register the brunette twink standing in front of Phil.
“Oh,” he talks thickly. “Did I interrupt something?”
Dan is just about to answer that no, you’re not interrupting, nothing is going on here, I’m not at all living my dream of being this close to Phil, can’t you see how happy I am? when Phil opens his mouth.
“Yeah actually.”
“Oh,” is the only thing the guy manages to say, before he, a bit caught off guard, backs out of the room and closes the door behind him. Suddenly Dan doesn’t feel like laughing anymore, as he’s standing in front of Phil, who’s looking delicious with his messy hair and flushed cheeks.
Dan turns his body towards Phil who looks up at him from the bed, big blue eyes peeking out from beneath the black fringe. Suddenly the urge is there, pulling Dan from within, tingling at the bottom of his spine. He wants to straddle Phil right there and then, push him down on the bed, kiss those big bruised lips. The urge flushes through him like he’s gotten a bucket of cold water poured over his head, and it hits him with a force he’s never felt before. The raging desire is fighting his confused feelings, a battle that is taking place in every cell of his body, and it makes him burn and feel hot all over. He wants Phil so bad. He wants to drape his body over him, feel him everywhere all at once. This is probably his only chance of having him. And they’re all alone. But the door isn’t locked. There’s so many people that could storm into the room any second now.
Just when he’s about to spiral he feels Phil’s hands on his hips. Dan blinks, not realising he’s been all in his head while probably staring right at Phil, and is thrown back to reality. The room is spinning, a mix of alcohol and desire, but Phil looks clearer than ever, a steady anchor at a stormy sea.
Phil keeps his hands on Dan's hips, and nods up at him, almost unnoticed, as if to ask for permission. Dan nods in return, unable to do anything else, and feels the grip around his hips tighten as Phil slowly moves Dan towards himself and the bed. Dan, who at this point has lost complete control of his body and lets himself be guided by the slender, pale hands belonging to Phil, straddles Phil’s lap. His thighs frame Phil’s legs, and the body contact, the heat, the warmth, it’s almost too much for Dan, who inhales shakily.
“Are you okay?” Phil asks, and when Dan nods he lets go of Dan’s hips with his hands and lifts them to his face instead. His hands are warm but dry, and soft, so incredibly soft, and they gently cup the sides of Dan’s face, who swallows thickly.
“Is this okay too?” Phil asks, voice low, almost a whisper, and when Dan answers by nodding again, Phil closes the gap between them.
Phil’s lips are slow and gentle as they touch Dan’s. His lips are soft, it’s like they’ve never been dry or chapped before, and they move over Dan’s ever so gently. It’s just a peck, a soft grace, a question. Dan already knows what to answer as he’s never wanted anything more in his entire life before, and without hesitation he parts his lips slightly, an invitation to go on, take another step if you will. Phil inhales deeply as his grip around Dan’s face becomes firmer, and he presses their lips together.
At first it’s gentle. Phil’s hands move down to Dan’s back, and firmly grips the flesh on his back through the shirt. Dan lifts his hands and intertwines his fingers in Phil’s hair at the back of his neck, tugging a bit at the roots as he kisses Phil consciously and willingly. Phil tastes of sweet alcohol, and something else, something warm and almost familiar. Their lips part against each other, their tongues are licking the insides of each other's lips, and their breaths merge as they deepen.
Dan has never felt more present in his entire life. Every cell in his body has devoted itself to Phil, and they’re all now screaming for more. He wants to be even closer to Phil than he already is, he wants every part of his skin touching Phil’s, he wants to be everywhere all at once. But he tries to keep his cool. He needs to keep his cool.
Which works fine until Dan’s hips involuntarily grind themselves against Phil’s, and Phil lets out a low groan. It’s hot, it’s so incredibly sexy, and it awakens something within Dan. Kissing has never felt like this before, with this raw urge burning within him, and before he knows it he has pushed Phil onto the bed.
It’s sloppy. It’s messy. Dan’s body is fully on top of Phil’s now, and their breaths are faster, deeper. Dan has completely lost control over himself, the last thing that held him back is gone as if it was never there to begin with, and his mind is filled with lust. Phil hands travel up under Dan’s shirt, his fingers exploring, all ten fingernails scratching the soft skin. And Dan moans. He’s not someone who makes sounds usually, but this just slips out from somewhere deep within him. He has no control. He lets his teeth sink into Phil’s bottom lip, and then into Phil’s jaw, and then into Phil’s neck. He nibbles, tugs, sucks. His mouth leaves wet marks and if he could he’d leave them all over Phil’s body. He tastes so good, and Dan wants all of his flavours on his tongue.
Dan’s fully hard now, and Phil too. They’re grinding against each other, like two feral teenagers that can’t get enough of the sensation, completely indulged in each other. Dan has lost track of everything, time, space, his consciousness, when Phil pulls away, breathless and flushed red.
“We have to stop,” he breathes, and he doesn’t look at Dan, he looks at a spot behind Dan, somewhere on the ceiling.
“Why?” Dan asks stupidly, as he holds himself up with shaky arms, framing Phil’s head. His lips are burning and his blood is pumping through his body and he can’t for the life of him think of a single reason as to why they would have to stop.
“I’m gonna come,” Phil says, only now looking back at Dan, and his eyes are not as blue as they were before. They’re darker, bigger, filled with something Dan hasn’t seen in any of his Youtube videos before. It makes him want to dive right back into him, back to his lips, his warmth, his soft skin.
“What?” Dan croaks stupidly after a few seconds of silence, only now realising he’s been staring at Phil without saying anything back. In fact he didn’t even hear what Phil said to him in the first place.
“I’m gonna come,” Phil repeats, trying to hold back a smile, still staring intensely up at Dan.
“Oh,” Dan answers stupidly, slowly realising.
“Yeah, so you’ll have to stop doing that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like that,” Phil says, now fully smiling. “Or I’m gonna come simply from that”.
Dan hears what he says, but all the blood within him has unfortunately left for a vacation to the southern parts of his body, and it takes until Phil gently gives him a push in the chest for him to realise he’s still hovering over Phil. He leans to the side and collapses face down next to Phil, a faint whine escaping him as he lands on the more erect part of his body.
They lie like that in silence. Phil on his back looking up at the ceiling and Dan face down next to him. After what feels like a few minutes Dan turns his head towards Phil, and Phil does the same, so they’re face to face.
“Sorry,” Dan says before he can think clearly. He’s not really sure why, but it just felt like the right thing to say.
Apparently it was not, because Phil furrows his eyebrows back at him.
“Sorry?”
“For being all over you, I guess,” Dan continues, suddenly very self conscious and fully aware of what he just did. He just fulfilled his dream of kissing his crush and it was so hot and so good but he was also all over him and lost all control over himself and it ended with his crush telling him to stop.
He must’ve done something wrong.
But Phil lets out a laugh, a soft, warm, quiet laugh.
“I don’t think you need to apologise,” Phil answers, warm blue eyes looking at Dan. “I was all over you too”.
Dan’s stomach does a somersault.
“You sure?”
“Of course,” Phil says as he pokes Dan in his ribs with a finger. “Why do you think I pulled you in here in the first place?”
“To help you fix your hair?” Dan answers stupidly. He can’t believe he’s having this conversation at a time where his brain isn’t working properly. It’s all too much.
Phil laughs again then, louder this time, and faces the roof as he drags his hands over his face.
“No, silly! The bathroom’s just out there, I could’ve done that myself if I needed to.”
“Oh,” Dan answers, as it’s all he can say. Phil turns his face back to him.
“I just had to stop because it wouldn’t be very nice to come on this random person's bed,” he speaks, voice low and face flushed and eyes big and so so so beautiful.
“Oh,” Dan answers again for what feels like the hundredth time in just five minutes, as his brain slowly processes what Phil just said.
Phil shuffles off the bed and adjusts his clothes before reaching out a hand towards Dan. Dan takes it, and lets Phil help him off the bed. They end up facing each other, and Dan looks at Phil’s hair that somehow looks even worse now than when they first entered the room. Phil looks back at Dan, and he can feel Phil’s gaze travel over his body, curiously and with a hint of hunger. Dan feels the tingle slowly return at the pit of his stomach.
“You have to stop doing that,” Dan croaks, and Phil meets his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that.”
Phil smiles at that, tongue sticking out between his teeth and all, so Dan lowers his gaze and starts to fiddle with his shirt in an attempt to distract himself from the gorgeous guy in front of him.
“Noted,” Phil answers, while kicking Dan’s shoe lightly with his own. “What do you say about going to my room to try to fix my hair? I have a mirror but I could still use some help”.