#anyways who else has pulled into their driveway after work and just zonked out for over an hour

[devouringbodies]

23 yr old will graham in his pickup truck listening to the radio at 2 am in the parking lot of his apartment during his beat cop days. What it's Like by Everlast comes on and he finally snaps out of the dissociative state he's been in for the last two hours since he pulled into his spot.

[boyfriend-cal]

You have a Lame ass Boyfriend -Shawn Mendes series Part Three

You have a lame-ass boyfriend and (Series) FINAL PART

Description: Shawn finally gets to tell you how he feels. A little bit of camping, a whole lot of undecided feelings. Last part of the series. Warnings: not much… thunderstorms I guess? Some fighting but nothing too bad, someone gets slapped (not who u think tho yikes) Word count: 7.8k (this is literally double the other two parts I’m sorry idk what happened it got out of hand, and I think this is the longest thing I’ve ever written)

 PART ONE / PART TWO  masterlist, taglist, request

 ++

 The morning after the breakup, Shawn is still asleep in your bed. Somehow he’s moved himself to the very edge, and you think he might fall off if he does so much as twitch. Your phone reads 6:30am, so you roll over to go back to sleep. Even though your head was still pounding, it felt like no amount of sleep in the world would fix the ache in your chest.

For a few days, Shawn does nothing but stay by your side. He occasionally leaves to get some clothes from his house, but other than that he’s there. Shawn is good at making you laugh and keeping you distracted. You even woke up one day to a clean room and fresh sheets waiting at the end of the bed.

Of course, you insisted that none of it was necessary. You didn’t want Shawn to feel like he had to coddle you every step of the way. When you say all of this to him, you’re slightly worried that he’ll agree to leave because it finally feels like everything is back to normal. Before Josh and before Shawns last girlfriend, this is what you two did every day. You hung out almost nonstop.

After Shawn saw that you could get through a day without crying, he encouraged you to get out more. You didn’t want to, but Shawn had his ways. He would text you and tell you that he wasn’t going to come over unless you came into town to do something with him first. It worked because you didn’t want to be without him, not yet anyway.

Like today, Shawn has convinced you that taking your hammocks out to the nearest campsite would be a fantastic idea. The summer weather was bearable today and was even a little chilly if you stood in the shade for too long. That’s why you’re held in front of your mirror, backpack hung on your shoulders and sunglasses in your hand. Your face is still a pale-greyish tone, but you look a little more alive than you had in a week.

When you make your way down the stairs, you can already hear your mom in the kitchen. She loves to bake early in the morning, and that was good news for you because the house always smells delicious. Your lunch box from high school is sitting on the counter when you enter.

“Shawn told me you guys would be gone most of today so I made some toast for on the way there and then some sandwiches for lunch. This cooler bag has waters and a couple of sodas inside. How are you feeling?” She wipes her hands on her apron and steps away from the mixer.

“Better, I guess. I came to terms with the fact that Josh wasn’t right for me, and now I’m managing the idea of being alone. It’s weird.” You shrug and pick up the cooler bag so you can sling it over your shoulder, and then you loop your wrist through the strap on the lunch box.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re never alone. You better get going, we both know how Shawn gets when he’s worried.” Your mom chuckles to herself, and you can’t help but laugh at the memory you know she’s thinking about.

A couple of years back, you and Shawn had plans. You had a cold, but you told him you’d rest all day and be fine to do whatever it was that he was so excited to do. Now you can’t even remember what it was. Somehow, you’d taken night time cold medicine instead of daytime, and ending up passing out cold. Your mom was gone to another town for a catering job, and your dad had also been at work, so Shawn couldn’t get in the house. He waited on the front porch all day long until one of your parents returned, only to find you were still zonked out. It seemed a little traumatizing to him, so before you head out the door, you text him that you’re on your way.

Shawn has the top and doors off the Jeep to celebrate the cool day. He looks like he’s cleaning some trash out of it when you walk up the driveway. His house wasn’t but a couple of streets over, so it didn’t take long to walk.

“Oh good, you’re here! I’m just taking out everything that could possibly blow away when we hit the high way. Whatcha got?” Shawn meets you halfway down the pavement and takes the lunchbox and cooler from you. “My mom made us toast and sandwiches. She also packed some drinks.”

“What an angel,” Shawn groans out of satisfaction, and you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him make that sound before. His head is tilted back for a brief moment before he starts laughing, “I was going to suggest stopping at that sketchy Subway on the outside of town.”

“I would have refused. Do you have a blanket I can take with me? I brought one to put under me but forgot to grab another one.” You slide your backpack off your shoulders and throw it into the backseat.

“Yeah, sure. There’s one in my room. You can go get it, right? I have a few more things to pack up.” Shawn turns back to the Jeep, but you step toward him and hug him from behind.

“Thanks, Shawn. For everything.” His muscles tense for a moment before he loosens your grip to turn in your arms.

“You don’t have to thank me. You know- “

“That you’d do anything for me? Yes, Shawn, I know.” You giggle, shaking your head.

Your hair is on a low messy bun, and a few strands fall free as you laugh. They frame your face is the cutest way, Shawn thinks. He absentmindedly reaches up to push one behind your ear.

“Right back at you.” You say, smiling the biggest smile he’s seen in weeks. Maybe besides the wedding, but all things considered, it’s good to see you smile.

Shawn must distance himself before he does something that he doesn’t think you’re ready for. Looking down at you, smiling up at him like nothing else matters is too much for his heart.

“Go get a blanket, we better get going soon.” Shawn releases you and you nod before skipping inside. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, and his heart is thumping as fast as it possibly can. He takes a deep breath as soon as the door shuts behind you. How long would he be able to hide this? It was time to find out.

You come back outside with his favorite blanket in hand. You could tell he used it last night because it was sprawled out over the bed when you entered his room. It even smells like him.

“Y/N, you’ve been trying to steal that blanket from me for years, I’m getting it back when we get back into town.” Shawn crosses his arms as if to tell you that he’s serious.

“We’ll see.” You fold it into your backpack and then use the top beam of the Jeep to pull yourself into the passenger seat.

When Shawn finally pulls out of the driveway, you reach into the backseat to open the cooler. You find two sandwich baggies, each with what was once banana and peanut butter toast. The peanut butter was all over the bag, and you knew it was going to be a mess. There was no way Shawn could eat this while driving.

“Looks like our toast is soggy and messy.” You laugh, holding up the bag so he can see. The wind is whirling around you as he speeds down the highway.

“Just like I like it.” Shawn jokes, holding out his hand for you to give him the bag.

“You’re going to make a mess but go for it.”

Watching Shawn try to maneuver the toast out of the bag with one hand is hilarious. He ends up losing most of the bananas to the bottom of the bag, so he settles for saving them for later. There’s peanut butter around the edges of his mouth when he’s finished.

You lean over, swiping the excess off with your finger and then popping it into your mouth. Shawn feels like he could explode. He has to keep his eyes trained on the road, despite his scarlet cheeks giving him away. Shawn takes a swig from his water bottle that’s sitting in the cup holder, but really, he wants to dump it all over him until he forgets all the thoughts he has about you.

Shawn gently taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the music, and you fill the lack of conversations by digging deep into your thoughts. At the beginning of yours and Josh’s relationship, you’d ride around for hours. Listening to music, singing, and then talking about anything and everything when your voice went hoarse from screaming lyrics. Shawn notices that you’ve gone quiet, so he reaches over to take your hand in his.

You chew on your lip nervously. All you can think about is how Josh was the last person you held hands with. Was it always going to be like this? You just wanted him out of your head. You wanted to be able to enjoy things that used to be part of your everyday life.

Shawn sees that your lip is quivering between your teeth. He wonders if its something he did, but either way he knows he has to prevent the tears or they won’t ever stop.

“Stand up.”

He says the words two more times before they register in your brain, so you look over and give him wild eyes.

“What? We’re moving, there’s no way I’m standing up.” You violently shake your head.

“Hold my hand, and then hold on to the beams.” Shawn points to where the roof would be. “There’s no one else on this road. I’ll go slow. I’d never hurt you, Y/N.”

You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt while he slows down a little bit. You’re lucky it’s not a busy road because for one, this is illegal, and two, someone would be ticked off that Shawn is suddenly going twenty under the speed limit. Your grip on his hand is so tight that your fingers turn white as you push yourself to your feet in the seat. You can’t stand to full height without letting go of him, but you really don’t want to let go.

“You got this, Y/N.” Shawn opens his palm, so you’re the only one that’s still hanging on. You quickly let go and grab the bar that comes almost to your chest. The wind is stronger in your hair now, but it feels so lovely. Below you, Shawn turns up the radio so it’s blasting and you’re not sure how he’s sitting right next to it without his ears bleeding. Shawn lets out a scream, and you decide to do the same. Afterward, your chest feels a little lighter, and the smile that Shawn has on his face is priceless.

You have to work up the courage for a few minutes, but once you feel Shawn start to speed up, you let go of the beam and lean against it instead. Your arms open wide, and you scream again. Shawn looks up at you for a brief moment. He decides that seeing that smile on your face is worth all the waiting he has to do.

It takes about an hour to get to the campgrounds. When Shawn pulls up to the rangers station, you stay in the car while he goes inside to pay for your day passes. You’re a little bit sleepy even though you woke up not long before the two of you left. It was already a little past noon. The sun is shining, and the temperature has risen slightly, but not too bad. There are some clouds off to the side, so maybe you and Shawn can pick a shady spot.

“He showed me a hiking trail that eventually comes up on the waterside and said we could hang our hammocks there. Do you want to stay until the sun sets?” Shawn turns the Jeep back on and starts to pull away. He’s more familiar with this campground than you are so he doesn’t even have to look at the map to know which way to go.

“Yeah, fine with me.”

The road winds and curves and you have to hold on for dear life because Shawn refuses to slow down. You’re almost positive that the people in the RVs that you’re passing can hear your squeals with every turn Shawn makes. That would also mean they can hear his loud laughs, but you doubt they’d complain about that. It’s a beautiful sound.

Shawn parks the Jeep by the communal showers and hops out, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and then coming around to my side. He offers me a hand so I can jump down and grab my things. Shawn takes the cooler bag and the lunch box, so I take the hammocks.

“He said it’s like a twenty-minute walk or something. You okay?” Shawn stops at the beginning of the trail, turning back to look at me.

“Yeah? I didn’t even say anything. I can handle a twenty-minute walk into the woods if that’s what you’re referring to.” You lift one corner of your mouth in a small smile, and he shakes his head gently.

“Just checking, I guess.” Shawn's response makes it clear that he wasn’t asking about the walk ahead of you two, but you decide not to push because you didn’t want to discuss Josh anymore. You wished to erase him from your memory.

Shawn has long legs, and it’s hard to keep up. You trip a couple of times but catch yourself from falling on your face. After Shawn hears your grunts a few times, he starts calling out when there's a raised tree root or a tall plant of some sort.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me when people judge distances by time. How do they know what speed we walk at? We could get lost.” You think out loud, and Shawn pauses for a second to shrug.

“I think we’ll know the area when we see it. The ranger said there’s an obvious split in the path.” Shawn scratches the back of his neck, and you watch his shoulders flex under his thin, white shirt.

“Okay, in this case, but what if it wasn’t obvious?” You kick a rock out of the path as you continue to follow him.

“Would you have felt better if he’d said,’ it’s about a mile out,’?” Shawn stops and completely turns to you with a teasing grin on his face.

“No, that would’ve been worse.” You catch up to him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay then, quit complaining.” He chuckles, and this time lets you lead the way.

You turn halfway back to him as you walk, “I wasn’t complaining, just making an observation.”

Shawn just hums so you turn back around to watch your step. Your hair sways down your back as you walk. Your shirt is a little too big, so when your arms aren’t raised, there’s no way to tell if you have on pants. He can see the big scar on your leg from that time he convinced you to climb a tree and then didn’t catch you when you fell. Not that he promised he’d catch you, Shawn didn’t think you’d fall, but he did feel guilty once it happened.

He was lost in his own world when you two came upon the spot you’d set your hammocks up. Shawn challenged you to see who could get theirs set up first. You wanted them stacked on top of each other, and you were glad that Shawn was tall enough to put enough space between them.

And obviously, Shawn wins, so you pull that adorable pouty face that kind of made you look like a six-year-old. When he smiles at you, you briefly think about what these last few days would’ve been without him. Absolute hell, most likely. He steps towards you and takes the strap from your hands, pulling backward to make sure it’s tight around the tree. His bicep brushes your collarbone as he does and your eyes widen.

You blush when you notice he’s stopped and looking at you again. Did he notice you were checking him out? You could’ve just been looking at his tattoo. Yeah, that was it. You hadn’t seen it close up recently. Besides, anything you were feeling for him now probably just arrived because you’ve felt more lonely now that Josh is gone. That’s the only explanation.

Shawn tests both of the hammocks before he turns to you again. “Do you want to climb up there or would you rather me lift you?”  

Shawn doesn’t wait for an answer. He gets impossibly close to you and puts both hands on your waist. Shawn counts to three and then hoists you upwards. Your hands grip his biceps for support as he easily lifts you over his head. When the back of your thighs feel the hammock, you let go and try to spread it out enough to have somewhere to sit. Shawn steps forward once so he can set you down.

For a moment, his head is in line with your knees, and you can feel his breaths fanning up your thighs. It gives you chill bumps. Shawn realizes what’s happening but doesn’t pull away. It’s like all of the air around you had been sucked away. You’re scared to move. You wonder what he’s going to do next.

“You good? I don’t want you to fall when I let go.” Shawn checks. He couldn’t make a move because he couldn’t tell how you were feeling. Shawn knew that there had been something between you two since the wedding, but you didn’t seem to be putting the pieces together as fast as he was.

“Uh, yeah. Can you hand me my blanket and book?”

“Your blanket?” Shawn raises his eyebrows, and it earns an eye roll from you.

“Yeah, my blanket.” You tease, sticking your tongue out. He does what he’s asked to do and then makes sure you don’t need anything else before he makes himself comfortable in his hammock underneath him.

For a little while, light conversation flowed between the two of you. When Shawn finally says he’ll let you read, you’re grateful that he can’t see you because you weren’t in the mood to read. Not when your mind had been thinking about him since he made you stand up and feel the wind in your hair on the way here. Shawn was supportive, he always had been, and you making it into anything else would be ridiculous.

++

You accidentally fall asleep after reading maybe five pages of your book. That wasn’t an issue though, because it wasn’t like you and Shawn had planned to move for a few hours.

Shawn hadn’t fallen asleep, but he could tell that when he accidentally kicked the bottom of your hammock and you hadn’t said anything, that you had. After about three hours, it was almost five pm. The sun wouldn’t set for another two maybe three hours, but he didn’t mind if you slept. He’d gotten you to come this far, so that was an accomplishment in itself.

Shawn kicked along the rocky bank of the lake for a while. He thought about things he could say to you. He could explain that the timing is terrible, but he can’t keep it from you anymore. Or he could just come out and say that he’d been waiting since you and Josh first got together. The second option sounded a little douchey as if he knew it wouldn’t last, and Shawn did know that, but he couldn’t tell you that.

He noticed some clouds rolling in, but they didn’t look threatening. Usually, light clouds like that meant the sunset would be ten times prettier, and he was ready for it. Shawn wanted to take some pictures of you standing on the bank with the sky ahead of you or behind you.

By six-thirty, Shawn was tired of finding things to entertain himself with in the middle of the woods. He would’ve just watched something on Youtube or something, but there wasn’t any cell service out here. He makes his way back to you, and you’re still sound asleep.

For a minute, he thinks about how peaceful you look, and he almost doesn’t want to wake you. What if when you’re sleeping is the only time you’re not thinking about everything that’s been going on? He struggles with what to do and then decides to wake you up anyway. Your face that’s covered entirely by your hair is cradled in the palm of your hand. Your other hand is laying against your thigh, so Shawn picks it up. He intertwines his fingers into yours and then squeezes a few times until your eyes flutter open.

“Aw, shit.” You mumble, turning to the side a little bit but realizing your movement is a little bit restricted. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long has it been?”

“A few hours, but it’s okay, really. I scoped out the edge of the water and decided we could take some good sunset pictures there. You looked too peaceful to wake you.” Shawn giggles and you roll your eyes. You still look like you could get some more sleep.

“Obviously not enough because I’m awake.” You joke. “Help me down, please.”

Shawn watches you wiggle around for a few minutes before you’re sitting upright again. He lifts you by your waist and starts to lower you but forgets to tell you to keep your legs out straight or wrapped around him. One of your feet get caught in his hammock, and while he’s trying to free you, he stumbles backward and loses his balance.

His back hits the ground, and then your weight hits his chest. A groan leaves his lips, but laughter comes from yours. “Nothing like a good trip to wake me up, huh?”

Shawn lifts his head to see you smiling at him. Your chin rests on your hands that are folded in the middle of his chest. He cracks a smile. “Guess not. Are you hurt?”

“Nope. You broke my fall, rescuing me once again.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he lays his head back down, looking up at the trees. He can barely see it, but the sky looks like it’s already gotten darker. Shawn registers the way the clouds just barely flash, but he can’t say anything before the loud crack rings throughout the air around you two. He hears you scream and feels all of your muscles tense against him at the same time.

In the silence that follows, both of your hearts are hammering. You can feel his, and he can feel yours. You hate thunderstorms. Why hadn’t either of you checked the radar?

“Shit, we have to get up. I’ll look to see if my phone can show me how close it is.” You roll off of him at his request. When you stand up, you can see the lakes water is suddenly rough and choppy. The waves are white capping and crashing against the fragile bank.

“I’m just going to walk a bit this way to see if it’ll pick up service. If you can reach it, unhook the top hammock and put all of the stuff in the bottom one.” Shawn calls from your left, pulling you out of your trance that the water put you in.

“Don’t leave.” You blurt. You didn’t really mean to, because you knew he’d come back, but you weren’t too keen on being here without him.

“I just have to find out if we have enough time to drive away from it. If not, we’ll have to use the hammocks and try not to get wet. I promise I’ll be right back, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t leave you.” Shawn blows you a kiss and jogs down the trail you two had come from. You check your phone, but no service.

A sigh leaves your lips as the thunder rumbles again. You have to do what Shawn said quickly in case this rain was coming as fast as he seemed to think it would.

You’ve just secured the straps again, this time the hammock is upside down and acting like a roof for the bottom hammock. It’s close enough, so you’ll be able to pull it around you once you’re under it. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Shawn, sprinting. Every part of him is sopping wet.

“The Jeep is soaked. It’s about to start raining sideways. We’ll have to stay here and wait it out.” He pauses, placing a hand on each knee to catch his breath. That’s when you hear it. It’s not like anything you’ve ever experienced before. The rain is moving in from your left, and fast.

“Come on, get in.” You say. You kicked off your shoes and lay into the hammock, trying to scoot over as much as possible. Instead of getting in, Shawn stops and starts to strip.

“What on earth are you doing? You’re going to get wet!” You yell.

“My clothes are wet, and it’s going to make you cold so I might as well not have any clothes. We have blankets, it’s fine.”

Shawn crawls in next to you with about thirty seconds to spare before the rain starts to beat down on the outside of the waterproof material. You’re so thankful you decided to spend the extra money. You find a way to safely secure the edge of the top hammock, so you don’t have to hold it forever. Once you settle down, you realize how close Shawn is. You honestly don’t know what you expected, but you can feel every part of him pressed against your side. The air starts to get humid quick.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. The weather was so pretty all day today, and I guess I thought it would stay that way.” Shawn does feel bad because he knows that you’re scared of thunderstorms, and he brought you into the middle of one. You hear his remorse in his voice.

“I don’t expect you to be able to control the weather, Shawn. It’s okay. I wish we could tell our parents we won’t be home when we thought we would, but that’s okay. They know I’m safe if I’m with you.” Your back is to Shawn so you can’t see the blush that rises on his cheeks. He probably looks like a tomato since he usually has a rosy tint to him anyway.

The thunder claps and rumbles and you swear you the trees you’re attached to shake. “I’m just going to…” You start to roll over, your ass pressing in places it shouldn’t but Shawn swallows and focuses on what you’re saying, “Put this here, that there, and me here, if that’s okay.”

When you’re done moving, you have one arm under each of his, and your face is pressed against his neck. Shawn reaches to your waist and pulls the blanket around both of you. “Of course, it’s okay.”

Shawn immediately felt stupid for sounding too eager. You two had cuddled before, probably too many times to count. He wanted this time to feel different. He wanted it to be different. Shawn didn’t know that to you, it was different. You hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but something had changed. You held your tongue because there was still the doubt that you were lonely or that Shawn didn’t feel the same way.

Five hours passed with off and on silence. Sometimes one of you would think about something to talk about, and the conversation would go on as long as it could until it fell silent again. Occasionally, one of you would open one side of the makeshift tent and let some fresh air in.  Now was one of those quiet times. You were tracing patterns on Shawns skin. His eyes were shut. He was so close to saying something.

You wondered when the rain was going to stop. It was going to be midnight soon, and your parents were really going to be worried. Shawn had said a couple times that if the thunder and lightning stopped, he’d start the drive home, but he wasn’t sure how safe it was until then. At this point, neither of you would mind riding in a Jeep with the top down while it rained.

Your fingers trailed over his collarbones and through the valleys and hills of his shoulders. You traced up a line on his neck where his vein sticks out if he’s yelling or singing. Your touch is light as a feather up and down his sharp jawline. Then, they gently ghost over his lips. His eyebrow twitches ever so faintly. Shawn wants to open his eyes, but he’s afraid that he’ll have imagined all of it if he does.

Shawn doesn’t move a muscle until he feels your lips on his. He feels you hesitate, hovering for just a second, but then you go for it. Shawn opens his eyes to see yours closed. He starts to kiss you back, and he already feels breathless. It’s everything he’s wanted, and you’re the one who made the first move. That’s the last thing Shawn expected to happen.

He turns his body, so he’s not flat and moves his hand to cup your cheek. Shawn is smiling into the kiss, and so are you. His mouth parts, so you slip your tongue over his. You’re about to make the decision whether or not to straddle him, but you pull away instead. Shawn’s eyes are wide, pupils blown as he looks up at you. Both of your lips are a little bit swollen, but you weren’t even focused on him anymore.

“It’s not raining anymore.”

Shawn tries not to audibly sputter or gasp, but he actually feels like the wind was knocked out of him. Out of all the things you could’ve said, that’s what you say after kissing him? He remains silent as you throw open the top hammock, revealing a night sky (covered mostly by a canopy of trees) that isn’t flashing with lightning or roaring with thunder.

“Oh my god, we can go home! Not that this hasn’t been fun like it was a good idea, but I was going to go crazy.” You talk rapidly, and Shawn is just trying to breathe. In fact, he doesn’t say anything or start moving until he realizes you’ve gotten the hammock he’s not laying in wholly wrapped up and you’re beginning to fold up the blankets that he’s halfway covered in.

“Yeah, I agree. I’m going to have to ride home in my underwear. What a story for our parents, right?” Shawn tries to laugh, but he can’t. You don’t seem to notice. It doesn’t take very long to get everything packed up and to the car. The GPS says you’ll arrive at your house around 2 am. Shawn has never wanted an hour and a half to go by faster.

Unfortunately for both of you, that storm did some damage. Shawn has to stop the car every mile or so just to move some debris out of the way. You complain, saying something about how the point of having a Jeep with big tires is for situations exactly like this but Shawn brushes you off. “Not everyone has a Jeep, Y/N.”

He can tell that you’re growing impatient with him, but he doesn’t care anymore. You kissed him and still haven’t said anything about it. It was wrong. Shawn felt like he needed a few days away from you, at the least.

It’s nearing 3 am when he pulls into your driveway, or rather, onto the street behind it because Josh’s truck is parked in it. “What the hell is be doing here?”

Y/N peers around the truck and toward the garage door. No one is in sight.

“Y/N?” Shawns blood might as well be boiling at this point.

“I don’t know. When we got service a little ways back, I got a few texts from him asking if I was okay. Maybe my mom called him and asked if he knew where we were or something. She might’ve told him he could stay, but I promise I’m going in there and I’m going to tell him to leave.” You looked at Shawn seriously, and he didn’t know if he believed you. He didn’t really have a reason not to.

“I can come inside with you and make sure he leaves, or I can stay out here. Just let me help.” Shawn begs, he doesn’t want you to go inside and fall into his trap again. Even if your mother had called him, he shouldn’t have come because he doesn’t care. He only cares about keeping you away from Shawn.

“No, I’m not starting a fight at three in the morning. Go home, your parents are worried. I let them know that you just dropped me off so they’ll be expecting you. Thank you for today Shawn, it was fun.” You offer a soft smile, and then you lean in. For a split second, he thinks you’re going to kiss him again but your lips land on his cheek.

“Yeah. Let me know if Josh causes any trouble. Tell him to leave, you’ve been doing good.” Shawn stops himself from rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t stop the annoyed expression from creeping onto his face.

“I am Shawn. He’s not staying here.”

And even though you promised, Shawn waited for another 45 minutes, and Josh never came outside. In fact, after about 30, your bedroom light turned off, and that was that. That was all Shawn needed to know. He was done.

++

Shawn wasn’t going to be the first one to initiate a conversation between the two of you. He honestly didn’t want to talk to you. Even if nothing happened between you and Josh that night, he still stayed the night when you said he wouldn't. That meant four days went by until you text him. You asked him to hang out, but he replied with a short “no” and rolled back over in bed.

His mother saw the warning flags raised the moment he showed up at home that night. She’d been aware that he was in his underwear (thanks to your text), but she wasn’t expecting him to be crying so hard that he barely made it into the garage.

Shawn let her talk him through his tears that night, but every day since then he’s been holed up in his room. She doesn’t know what happened, and she asked your mother, but all your mother could say was that you’d started hanging out with Josh again. Both of them decided that was probably why Shawn was upset, but he hadn’t been this upset before, so what changed?

Another two weeks passed of Shawn actively avoiding and ignoring you. He answered your texts when they involved questions, but if you tried to make plans, he immediately shut you down.

You said goodbye to Josh and shut the front door of his house behind you. Another text rang in from Shawn, “don’t want to hang, sorry.”

It made you angry. Shawn was supposed to be your best friend, and he’d been dodging you for weeks. Sure, you kissed him and then pretended like it didn’t happen, but it couldn’t have meant anything. You kept telling yourself that. It couldn’t have meant anything.

Instead of walking home, you found yourself on Shawn's front porch. The garage was open, and the Jeep was sitting inside. Neither of his parent’s cars were home, so you assumed it was just him. He’d have to open the door, you knew he was here. You knock and then wait patiently, but you feel like your patience is running thin.

The door finally opens. Shawn is standing there, a blanket draped on his shoulders. Sweatpants are hung so low on his hips that you don’t think he’s wearing any underwear. His nose is red like he has a cold.

“What? I told you I didn’t want to hang out.” His tone is cold. He doesn’t sound like your best friend.

You click your heels together a few times and play with your fingers behind your back. “I was just wondering why you’ve been so distant lately.”

“You never made Josh leave that night.” Shawn shrugs. He fights the urge to shut the door in your face.

“That’s why you’re mad? Because I’m hanging out with him again?” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Your brain is screaming,” This means he cares!” over and over again.

“Are you?” His jaw drops but his hand scrubs over his face to hide it.

“I mean, we’re not going to date again but yeah we’re just doing casual things. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, Y/N?” Shawn yells. His voice booms into the night, and you hear a car somewhere behind you. Someone might think one of you is in trouble. “That’s fucking ridiculous. How is it not a big deal when you kissed me that same day and then let him stay over? But even if you take me out of it, he treated you like a dog. You said yourself that you hated your relationship. Why go back to that?”

Shawn hasn’t been upright in two weeks, so yelling at you makes him breathe a little faster, but he ignores it and waits for your response. His parents have just pulled into the driveway, but he doesn’t think you notice.

“You’re mad because I kissed you? That’s it? I kissed you because I was going stir crazy, I was bored, I was lonely, what other reason do you want?” You yell right back. The lies feel like they’re lighting a fire down your throat, but you keep spitting them out. “He mistreated me because he wasn’t happy in our relationship, because it wasn’t what he wanted, and now it is. If you can’t handle that then fine. We don’t have to speak.”

“But is it what you want? Is it making you happy? Or is it just making you feel less lonely?” Shawn cocks his head to the side as he asks. Before you can think, you reach up and slap him as hard as you can.

The angry and upset tears don’t spill over your cheeks until you turn your back to him. Your hand is still stinging, and you finally notice that the whole Mendes family had been sitting in the car with the windows down, listening, but you keep walking. You just want to go home.

++

Since Shawn’s mom found out what really happened, she didn’t hesitate to call your mom and fill her in. It’s made for really awkward situations. Shawn's family tries to console him but also pretend like they don’t know what happened, and your mom hasn’t said a word. That meant she thought you messed up because otherwise she always had something to say.

And maybe you did. You said a lot of things to Shawn that weren’t true. You hit him for crying out loud. Josh had been blowing up your phone for three days, but you ignored him until you told him it was over and then threatened a restraining order if he stepped onto your property. It might’ve been extreme, but you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Frankly, you didn’t even want to deal with yourself. You created this mess because you were too scared. You were scared that Shawn could reject you, you were scared that he was just a rebound, and you were scared that he was only doing all of these things for you out of pity. You wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed and take yourself over to his house. Even if he didn’t feel the same way as you, if you could just get it off your chest and move on, you’d have your best friend back.

It was another sleepless night because those weren’t uncommon in your house anymore. Your mother had texted you hours ago that she was going to bed but you couldn’t. You weren’t going to be able to sleep until you got some things off your chest. So you pick up your phone, and you dial Shawn’s number.

Three rings, then the answering machine.

You tried one more time, but the same response. You chucked your phone onto the floor and started to sob. Shawn might’ve been asleep, but you had a bad feeling. You somehow knew he was ignoring you.

He was. Shawn laid upside down on his bed, watching his phone as it buzzed. Sure, part of him wanted to talk to you, but the other part was mad that you’d decided to go back to Josh. That part of him was also hurt that the kiss didn’t mean anything. That night that you’d slapped him, he spent an hour on the floor by the front door trying to get up again. Shawn was in love with you, and to hear you say all of those things was like getting beat up over and over with no intentions of letting up.

A sharp knock to his bedroom door brings him out of his thoughts. It’s probably a good thing too because his veins were starting to pop out from being upside down for so long. His mom opens his bedroom door and sticks her head in.

“I have on good source that she’s not seeing him anymore. I know that doesn’t make what she did hurt any less, but it’s a start, at least?” She shrugs, she doesn’t know if he’ll listen or not.

All he does is nod and then shake his head. Shawn doesn’t know if he wants to listen. What he wants is his best friend back, and now it feels like that’s never going to happen. Shawn feels the panic in his chest as soon as that thought crosses his mind. If he keeps ignoring you, he’ll never even have you as a best friend. That wouldn’t work at all. Shawn would rather suffer by watching you go through endless boyfriends and be there for you than not be in your life at all.

He stood up so abruptly, his mother thinks she’s dizzy. “I have to go.”

Shawn doesn’t even put shoes on as he leaves the house. The thought crosses his mind that he could’ve just called you, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you so you’d know he actually meant he was sorry.

He’s almost halfway to your house when he sees someone on the sidewalk ahead of him, running. Shawn stops, and so do they. He realizes it’s you. You’re dressed in a sweatshirt that almost hits your knees, (Shawn thinks you don’t know your own size because most of your clothes are too big.) your hair is in a messy braid slung over your shoulder. You also don’t have any shoes on.

“Shawn?” You call out, you start moving again but slower this time.

“Yeah.” When he confirms what you already knew, you sprint to him. You tackle him, but he keeps his balance after stumbling back a little bit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I said things that hurt you, but if you want to see him, then I’ll suck it up. I just don’t want to lose you.” Shawn’s voice sounds desperate and hoarse from all of the crying and screaming he’s done in the last few days.

“No, no, no. Shawn, you were right about all of those things. I wasn’t happy with him then or now. I will never be because he’s not you,” You only pause for a second to see his mouth gaping, but you don’t let him say anything. He places his hands on your cheeks and thumbs away your tears. “I didn’t kiss you because I was bored or lonely or any of that. I kissed you because I’ve been wondering since the wedding if this is what I was meant to be apart of, not that relationship. I’d been holding it in because I was afraid it’d be a rebound thing or that you were only so caring because we’re best friends. I know you may not actually feel the same way I do, but I’m in the same boat, being friends with you is better than nothing.”

Shawn’s palms are still pressed against your cheeks. He chuckles, and you can feel his breath. He thinks you look gorgeous. Your eyes are shiny from crying, and your face is a little puffy, but it overwhelms Shawn with the urge to hold you in his arms and protect you at all costs.

“Somehow, we both came to the same, wrong conclusion. I love you Y/N. I think I always have I just didn’t know until I saw how Josh mistreated you. Everything he did, I knew I could’ve done better. I know I’ve done this backward because I’m supposed to date you before I tell you I love you, but I just want you to know what you deserve. I hope I can give you that and more.” Shawn looks straight into your eyes, and instead of feeling uncomfortable or anxious or upset, you feel calm. You feel like this is right, and has always been.

Without saying anything you also place your hands on his face, and you kiss him. You feel him stumble, but you move with him, placing your hands on his waist to keep him close to you. His lips are soft and he’s so gentle. You feel the fire in your veins like you did the first time, but this time you weren’t going to ignore it. By the time you pull away, your tears are gone and instead replaced with a wide grin.

“It wouldn’t be us if we didn’t mess it up a little bit, so who cares if we did it a little backward. I’m in love with you, and that’s all that matters.” Your foreheads are pressed together as the two of you giggle. You might look like lunatics on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, but it didn’t matter because you finally had each other.

++

please reblog if you liked it!! if you loved it, hated it, whatever, feedback is always appreciated! come say hi💕

shawn taglist: @bodaciousbonzi1996 @lustingfor5sos @fluffsshawn @mikeyglifford @sebastian-sunshine-stan @aulxna @calumsnatchedmyheart

[danfanciesphil]

L’Histoire Française (New Chapter)

Teacher AU (Part 12)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

(Part Four)

(Part Five)

(Part Six)

(Part Seven)

(Part Eight)

(Part Nine)

(Part Ten)

(Part Eleven)

(Now Available on Ao3!)

“Dan?”

The sound of Phil’s voice, confused as it is, is like a blanket of calm. Dan’s shoulders release their tension, and he sits heavily down on his bed, eyes slipping shut.

The phone clamped to his ear stays quiet for a moment, and then Dan can hear something, a clattering noise.

“Dan, are you okay?” Phil asks, concern creeping into his tone now.

“Yeah,” Dan says in a breath, nodding as the relief washes over him. “Yeah, sorry, I’m… I was just…”

Dan trails off, teeth catching hold of his lip as he struggles with how to phrase this. The silence on the other end of the line goes on for around ten seconds.

“You’ve never called me before,” Phil notes quietly.

“First time for everything,” Dan says. He clears his throat, trying to gather himself together. “So, I was actually calling to say this is all a huge mistake, and that you shouldn’t come over tonight.”

“Oh,” comes Phil’s reply. There’s no mistaking the cut of disappointment in his voice.

Dan sighs, immediately feeling himself melt. “But I’m not gonna say that.”

“You’re gonna give me whiplash,” Phil says, making Dan smile.

“Sorry. I’m getting kind of anxious thinking about it is all,” Dan says, eyes travelling to the ceiling of his bedroom. “But talking to you is helping.”

“It is?”

Dan blinks in surprise. “Yeah, of course. You make everything better, didn’t you know?”

Phil laughs, sounding a little baffled. “No, I wasn’t aware. Um, that’s… really nice. I’m glad I can help you to feel… better. Is that okay to say?”

“I think so,” Dan says, shrugging to his empty room. “I’m not an expert in what’s okay and what’s not-okay for us from here on out.”

“No, me neither.”

“What are you doing?” Dan asks, mostly to steer the conversation into safer territory. “I heard clattering.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m baking cookies.”

“Cookies?” Dan says, sitting up a little straighter. “Cookies for who?”

He can hear Phil laughing at the eagerness of his tone. “For everyone. Teddy, Tyler, me, Buffy… hmm, can’t think of anyone else, though.”

“I hate you,” Dan tells him fondly. “What kind of cookies are they?”

“Pecan and cinnamon.”

“I think I just drooled on myself.”

Phil laughs again, low and happy. Dan can picture they way his eyes are crinkling, sending a blossoming flower of warmth spreading through his chest. He thinks of Phil, covered head to toe in flour, a rolling pin in his hand, cutting little shapes out of dough, feeding Buffy globs of icing and whispering to her not to tell.

“I want to bake with you,” Dan says, not really thinking. He can feel the hearts in his eyes still, they’re cloaking everything in a rosy-lovestruck-haze. “I mean, if it’s not against the rules.”

“There are rules now?”

“Well no, I suppose not, but-”

“I doubt John wouldn’t be as mean as to stop us from whipping up some cakes together, Dan.”

Dan snorts, rolling his eyes. “Especially if we bring him a few.”

“That’s a plan, then.”

“Okay,” Dan says with a smile, incredibly happy that they’ve scheduled another time to hang out, even if it’s ill-advised. “And we’re still on for tonight?”

“Unless you ring me up in an hour and cancel,” Phil says.

“Hah… I’ll try not to.”

“Seriously though,” Phil says, making Dan pause. “If you do get… anxious or anything. Not just about tonight, but ever… I want you to know that you can talk to me. You know, if it really does help you.”

The words knock the breath out of him. Nobody, Dan decides in that moment, not the ground Phil walks on, not the oxygen rushing into Phil’s lungs, will ever deserve him. He’s the purest, most selfless person on this earth.

“Thanks,” Dan whispers, though it’s a millionth of what he could say.

“No problem,” Phil tells him, sincerely. “I should… probably get back to the cookies. Unless you need me to…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Dan assures him. “I’m okay now. I’m chill.”

Phil laughs. “So I don’t need to bring you baked goods to make you feel better?”

“Oh, weird, I seem to be getting all worked up again…”

Phil laughs again, louder and brighter. “Cookies on their way. See you later.”

“Bye, Phil,” Dan says softly, a smile still warm on his face.

“Bye.”

The line drops, but Dan holds the phone to his face for another minute or two, listening to the crackle of the void where Phil’s sweet, reassuring voice just was, letting it glide, smooth and silken, over his skin.

*

“What’s this?” Dan asks, perplexed as a glass of clear, bubbling liquid is shoved into his hand.

“A drink,” Tyler replies, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t try and tell me you don’t need it.”

“You’ve been sitting in that spot by the window with your knee jiggling a mile a minute for like an hour,” Teddy agrees, glancing over the top of his laptop. “Drink the fucking G & T.”

“I don’t need-”

“If you won’t do it for us, do it for the poor driveway.”

“What?”

“You’ve been giving the driveway a laser death stare,” Teddy explains, making Tyler laugh. “Give it a break. Drink the alcohol, and let your poor muscles relax.”

“He’s not exactly a scary man,” Tyler reminds him; suddenly the drink in Dan’s hand looks a lot more appetising. “He’s… well, I suppose he is rather intimidatingly attractive, but…”

Tyler trails off, his eyes glazing over. Teddy hurls a cushion at him.

“Quit daydreaming about Sexy Teacher,” he cries, annoyed. “He’s Dan’s anyway.”

Tyler smirks, walking over to the sofa and flopping down beside his boyfriend. “It’s unspeakably hot when you get all jealous, darling.”

Deciding that sobriety is, in fact, not his friend this evening, Dan gulps down some gin and tonic, wincing. He doesn’t particularly like the stuff, but Tyler loves to pretend he’s a bougie, pretentious gin connoisseur.

It’s at that moment that Dan hears the telltale sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He chokes a little on the gin, spluttering, and looks towards Tyler and Teddy in alarm.

“Ooh, here he is!” Tyler squeals, jumping up. “I’ll get the door.”

“Nope,” Dan objects, standing and grabbing Tyler by the arm. “You are not accosting him before he even gets inside, let me gradually lead him into the deep end at least.”

Tyler opens his mouth as if he’s about to object, but Dan hurries out of the room before he can listen to whatever inane protestation his flatmate is about to put forward. He gets to the front door just as the doorbell rings, and hauls it open before the sound has even finished.

Phil blinks in surprise, his hand still poised over the bell.

Oh, God, Dan thinks in despair. He looks sensational.

A thousand potential compliments rush through Dan’s blank mind, swirling into a frenzy. Phil’s hair is artfully tousled, fringe swept effortlessly to the side. He’s not wearing his glasses, meaning that the blue of his eyes shines out, pigmented and piercing. A tight black jumper hugs his torso, making him appear even leaner and taller. Teamed with the black skinnies he’s almost never without, he looks like he’s stepped off a runway at of Paris Fashion Week.

The only thing out of place is the flowery yellow cake tin tucked under one of his arms. Dan’s eyes fall to it, mostly so that he won’t gawp in a more inappropriate direction.

“Um, hi,” Phil says, and Dan realises he hasn’t said a word since he opened the door.

Resisting the urge to smack himself in the face, Dan laughs, feeling how pink his cheeks are becoming just at the sight of him. “Hi, sorry - my brain zonked out there for a second. Come in.”

Dan smiles in what he hopes is some semblance of a welcome, and steps aside to let Phil through. As Phil passes him, the tangy, sweet notes of his cologne brush into Dan’s senses, and he almost groans.

Instead, he takes a moment to gather himself, then shuts the door, sealing them both in the hallway, alone.

After a pretty awkward few moments of silence, where Dan genuinely can’t think of how to speak, Phil holds up the tin, smiling. “I brought cookies.”

“You did,” Dan agrees, reaching to receive the tin. “I mean, you said you would and… you followed through. Thank you.”

Phil smiles a little wider. “Well, they’re not all for you.”

“Too bad, because I’m eating every single one, the others can suck it.”

“What can we suck, darling?” Tyler asks, strolling into the hall, Teddy at his side. “Phil! You made it. And you look ravishing, might I say.”

“Oh, th-thank you,” Phil replies politely. “Good to see you again, guys.”

“I get the feeling you don’t wear black very often,” Teddy says, circling him, vulture-like. “Is that correct?”

“Uh, I do generally like to be a bit more colourful, I suppose.”

“Well, dear, I think if you wore black every day you’d probably knock a dozen people out just on your way into work,” Teddy says, laughing. “So, perhaps it’s a good thing.”

“Is he saying he likes it, or…?” Phil asks Dan in a whisper, though his eyes are glinting with amusement.

Dan lets out a soft chuckle, still feeling a little out of it. Perhaps that early G & T wasn’t such a great idea. “Yes, he likes it.”

“Come on then, fellas,” Tyler says loudly, clapping his hands. “Let’s get some drinks together.”

“Do you like gin, Phil?” Teddy asks as they usher Phil towards the kitchen. “I only ask because if you say no, Tyler will probably ask you to leave.”

“Uh, I thought we were going to the pub?” Phil says, throwing Dan a confused glance.

Dan just shrugs; he’s gotten used to letting Tyler and Teddy dictate his every move when it comes to nights out, as it’s far easier than trying to keep up with whatever mad plan they cook up, let alone put his own opinion in. He’s kind of forgotten that that isn’t actually very normal.

“Oh, we are,” Tyler assures him, disappearing into the kitchen. Dan sighs, following along behind them all. “But first we’re going to have a little drinkie here.”

“Oh, well, in that case, you’d better make mine just a T,” Phil says, eyeing the enormous bottle of fancy-looking gin in Tyler’s hands with a fair amount of wariness. “Minus the G.”

Tyler and Teddy both whirl around to face him, utterly scandalised. Dan wishes he had better reflexes, because their faces are priceless, and he would have loved to capture them on his phone camera for future blackmail.

A couple of seconds pass though, and then they melt to expressions of confusion. Much less interesting.

“Sorry, darling, I think I misunderstood,” Tyler says with a concerned bubble of laughter. “I thought you said you didn’t want any of my gin. Obviously I’m mistaken.”

Phil laughs. “It’s nothing personal. I’m a big gin fan, but… well, I can only really have one drink tonight, so I thought I’d save it for the pub.”

Dan frowns, fingers drumming on the lid of the tin in his hands. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I have to stay under the limit,” Phil explains, shrugging. The others continue staring in bewilderment. “... because I’m driving home,” he clarifies.

Oh, Dan thinks, blinking at the news. He hadn’t even considered that.

All of a sudden, Teddy and Tyler are bursting into laughter. “Oh, you are funny, Phil.”

“As if you’re driving home tonight!”

For some reason, Dan thinks he can see a light blush atop Phil’s cheeks. “Um… well, I have to get home somehow…”

“No, sweetie!” Tyler says, struggling as he attempts to unscrew the lid of the bottle in his hands. “I won’t hear of it. Stay over here! You can sleep on the couch, it’s very comfortable.”

“You would know, Ty,” Teddy says, plucking the bottle out of Ty’s hands and twisting the lid off in one go.

Tyler rolls his eyes, taking the opened bottle back again. “On the rare occasions we have a little tiff, I might have ended up getting some rest on it myself,” Tyler admits. “Before Teddy comes downstairs all teary-eyed and drags me back up to bed, of course.”

Teddy smacks Tyler on the bum, rather hard. “You’ll be joining Phil tonight if you’re not careful.”

“With pleasure,” Tyler grins, winking at Phil.

Dan’s fingers scrape a little against the metallic lid, and he winces. 

“Um, look, guys, it’s very sweet of you to offer, but I’m not sure whether-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Phil,” Tyler warns him. He shoves a freshly made gin and tonic into Phil’s hand, effectively silencing him.

Clearly at a loss, Phil turns to Dan, as though asking his thoughts. Dan shrugs in what he hopes is a breezy, ‘whatever’ kind of way. It seems to confuse Phil a bit, understandably, as Dan literally almost hyperventilated down the phone at him a few hours ago, and that was just over worries about him coming over at all.

But the thing is, as Dan told Phil yesterday, this is all a pretty bad idea, probably. Dan’s since surrendered himself to that. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t desperately, achingly want Phil to stay over tonight. In fact, he can think of nothing more that he’d wish for, at this time.

“The couch is pretty comfy,” Dan says after a minute, taking one of the glasses Tyler is handing out.

“Perfect!” Tyler cries, holding up his gin and tonic in salute. “So it’s settled. We’re all getting smashed, exposing our deepest, darkest secrets to one another, becoming the best of friends, and then we’re all coming back here to sleep and forget the whole thing ever happened.”

“Are you okay with it, though?” Dan asks Phil, wanting to be sure. “I mean, I don’t want to force you into sleeping on my sofa.”

“Yeah,” Teddy agrees, suspiciously sincere. He takes a sip from his drink. “I’m sure Dan has plenty of better options for you if the couch isn’t appealing.”

“Teddy, I will eviscerate you,” Dan grits out, glaring at him. Luckily, Phil seems to find this very amusing.

“Oh,” Tyler sighs happily. He rests his elbows on Dan and Phil’s shoulders, clinking his glass against theirs. “This is going to be a very fun night, boys.”

*

Dan kind of knows he shouldn’t, but he sits beside Phil on the sofa. He can feel Phil’s leg pressed against his as he sips at his second gin and tonic of the evening. It’s warm and reassuring. If he closes his eyes, he can remember how it felt to have Phil’s thighs either side of him, the weight of his body piled into his lap.

“So, Phil, did you have fun in Paris?”

Dan’s eyes fly open at Teddy’s question. He and Tyler are curled into the armchair again, all intertwined legs and draped elbows.

“Yeah, it was really good,” Phil replies. “I think it was really educational for the kids, which is nice. Plus we crammed a lot in.”

“So I hear,” Tyler says. Dan immediately feels his heart start to race. Why, oh why did he ever tell Tyler a damn thing? “What was your favourite part of the trip, Philly?”

Dan’s eyes fall closed, and he sips more of his drink. When Phil doesn’t answer, he looks over in surprise. Phil seems to be struggling for how to respond.

“Personally, I loved the Musée D’Orsay,” Dan jumps in, trying to come to Phil’s rescue. “You’d have really liked it, Teddy - the walls were these huge Monet canvases-”

“Um, no offence, Dan, but we’ve heard you blabber on about Paris for a week,” Tyler interrupts him. “I believe I asked Phil.”

Helpless, Dan sighs in defeat, aiming an apologetic glance in Phil’s direction. He just smiles, and clears his throat, looking down into his glass.

“Probably the boat trip,” Phil says at last, his long fingers closing tightly around Dan’s heart.

“Boat trip?” Teddy asks, frowning. “You didn’t mention that, Dan.”

Phil glances at him, questioning, but Dan doesn’t bother to respond. It’s not exactly an uncrackable mystery, why he chose not to divulge this small part of the trip. The memories of the boat are a little too personal, a little too painful to share with his idiot flatmates.

So Dan just shrugs, sipping more of his drink. It’s halfway gone already. Perhaps he should slow down.

“Yeah, it was… just a small thing I booked as a surprise for the kids at the end,” Phil explains. He’s trying to play it down, make it seem like less than it was, Dan realises, marvelling once again that Phil is able to read him so easily. “Just one of those river cruises down the Seine, you know.”

“But-” Teddy starts to say, but Dan sits upright, needing to stop this conversation in its tracks.

“Hey, Phil made cookies for us,” he says as brightly as possible. “Let’s all have one.”

“Ooh, cookies!” Tyler exclaims, the boat forgotten, thank heavens.

Dan lifts himself up from the couch, walking briskly into the kitchen to find the tin Phil brought. His fingers rest atop the bright yellow lid, tracing the flowers etched into the design. He shuts his eyes, taking this moment of solitude to silently stuff each suffocating memory of that night last Sunday into the back of his mind.

It’s too much, to remember it now, in the face of everything. Of course that was Phil’s favourite moment of the trip. It’s Dan’s favourite moment of his entire life. It’s the moment when his very concept of reality exploded, supernova-style, as Phil’s lips crashed into his. With one unexpected kiss, he splintered Dan’s self-doubt into a thousand sparkling pieces, along with the certainty Dan had carried, that Phil would never, in a million universes, over a billion lifetimes, ever actually want him.

It still doesn’t make sense. It still feels like a dream.

The fairylights twinkling above their heads. The gentle rocking of the boat on the river over which a thousand lovers had once padlocked their names. The taste of red wine on Phil’s mouth. The silvery wisps of his breath, that Dan had been close enough to feel ghosting over his chin.

It’s a moment plucked from the most fantastical story. It’s the kind of thing that never happens to anyone, let alone Dan Howell, the anxious, socially-awkward teaching assistant from Reading, England.

If was a mad, perfect moment. And Dan will never know anything like it again, he’s sure.

“Hey,” a voice says, making Dan jump.

He turns to the doorway of the kitchen, heart fighting its way out of his chest. Phil is standing there, glass in hand. His expression is soft, like he’s looking at a lost kitten, rather than a twenty-something nerd staring at the tin he was supposed to bring in five minutes ago.

“Hi,” Dan says after a moment. “Sorry, I just… I dunno, I got caught up in my own head for a sec. I’ll bring this in.”

Phil nods, and neither of them move. “I’m sorry if I… said something I shouldn’t have.”

Dan scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. How were you supposed to know I didn’t tell them about, um, about…”

“The boat,” Phil says, a little sadly. “Why didn’t you?”

Dan sends him a look of scorn. “Come off it.”

Unexpectedly, Phil laughs. Dan joins in, both of them caught up in it for a moment. When he stops, Phil says, “it’s a nice memory.”

Dan shrugs, feeling his teeth bite at his lip, puncturing the skin. “It’s just hard to think about it right now, is all.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Phil says. He looks guilty, for some reason.

“Cookies will help,” Dan offers, picking the tin up and forcing a smile. “Come on. The others will have no problem eating me if they don’t get the baked goods they were promised.”

Phil doesn’t move, so Dan is forced to squeeze past him through the door. For the sake of his own sanity, he pretends he imagines the soft graze of Phil’s hand over his back as he goes.

*

“Please, take them away from me,” Tyler begs Teddy, who is feeding him a third cookie. “I’m going to have to book in three more gym sessions this week to make up for this.”

“Oh shut your face, you’re gorgeous and you know it,” Teddy says, rolling his eyes. He takes a bite of the cookie he’s holding, making an ‘mmm’ sound. “I have to say, Phil. You have truly exceeded my expectations. Must be all that time in Paris. The French do know how to bake.”

Phil chuckles politely, swallowing the last of his cookie. “Thanks. I did start baking a lot more when I lived in Paris, actually. It’s therapeutic, I find. And I was under a lot of stress, at the time.”

“Pourquoi?” Tyler asks, intrigued.

“Oh, um,” Phil says, unmistakably uncomfortable all of a sudden. Dan watches curiously, chewing on his own cookie, as Phil shifts about. “I was… going through a breakup.”

Dan’s eyebrows lift; he doesn’t miss the worried glance Phil throws his way. He clears his throat, and drinks some more G & T, wondering if he’s about to have to listen to the wonders of whoever Phil’s ex was, on top of everything else.

“You had… a Parisian lover?” Tyler asks, struggling to sit upright with Teddy on his knee. “A paramour, perhaps?”

Phil laughs awkwardly. “No, nothing like that. Paramour tends to refer to people having illicit affairs. I was just seeing someone for a time. But it didn’t work out.”

Dan rolls his eyes at Tyler, who is so clearly brimming with curiosity that it’s practically spilling out of his hungry eyes.

“These cookies are incredible, by the way,” Dan interjects, sensing Phil would like a change of subject.

Phil beams at him, opening his mouth to respond. Before he can get there, however, Tyler pipes up again.

“Male or female?”

Phil blinks at him. “Sorry?”

“Your non-paramour,” Tyler clarifies. “What gender were they?”

“Could be neither,” Teddy adds, nibbling. “We can’t cis-sume.”

Dan snorts. “Did you just make that word up?”

Teddy grins. “It works, don’t you think? No point cis-suming something.”

“Guys! I’m waiting for Phil’s answer,” Tyler shouts crossly.

“It was a man,” Phil says slowly, like he’s treading through a minefield.

“So you’re gay?” Tyler asks.

“Ty! For fuck’s sake,” Dan cries, glaring at him. “You don’t have to answer him, Phil. He’s being a prat.”

Phil just shrugs. “It’s okay. I guess I don’t really know what the future might bring, but at this point in my life I’ve only ever liked boys.”

Dan’s mouth is dry, suddenly. He puts the rest of his cookie to one side for a moment, scared he might choke. He pours the remainder of his drink down his throat, not listening to word of whatever Ty is babbling about. Something about the Kinsey Scale.

“Shall we get going?” Dan asks the general room, not really caring if they agree. He stands up, gathering his and Phil’s empty glasses and the cake tin, then heading into the kitchen. “Come on, if we don’t leave now we’ll end up staying here all night.”

“True,” Dan hears Teddy say as he leaves the room. “S’not like that hasn’t happened a few times.”

Before they get out of the door, Dan insists on making up a bed on the sofa for Phil. He knows what Tyler and Teddy are like on these pub trips - Dan will be surprised if any of them stumble back later with enough sense to open the front door, let alone throw some sheets and blankets together for poor Phil to sleep on.

Phil tries to protest as Dan gets the pillows and covers out of the cupboard, but Dan won’t hear of it. He does his best to make the sofa seem comfy, then stands back to survey his work. Tyler sidles up beside him, resting his elbow on Dan’s shoulders.

“Not sure why you’re bothering, to be honest, honey,” he says. “Not like he’s going to be sleeping here, after all.” Dan shoves him off, annoyed.

“Don’t be a twat, Ty,” Dan hisses, looking around the living room in case anyone heard.

Luckily, Phil and Teddy seem to have already migrated out into the hall.

Tyler lifts his hands in defence, smirking. “Dan, I’m just going off the fact that Sexy Teacher has stared pointedly at your ass every time your back is turned.”

Dan groans in despair, his cheeks beginning to burn. “Ty, can you please not? You know it’s not gonna happen, I told you-”

“Actually you just sobbed in my arms and told me fuck all,” Tyler corrects him. “It made me think things were pretty hopeless, honestly, but seeing how you two are around each other, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck you’re playing at.”

“It’s complicated!”

“Is it? Or are you just being a wimp?”

Dan opens his mouth, indignant, but before he can respond, Teddy is poking his head around the door, looking impatient.

“Are you guys coming, or what?”

*

Their local pub is called The Cat & Bear. It’s an old-fashioned, proper English tavern, with ivy crawling along the red brick outside, hops hanging from the dark oak bar, and some hearty British ales and stouts on tap. They sell the cheaper stuff too, of course: Carlsberg and Stella and all the other ‘lad’ lagers. None of them are particularly keen on beer, but they always drink it here, mostly because they’re too afraid to ask for anything else. Places like The Cat & Bear make people like Dan, Tyler, and Teddy painfully aware of how ‘millennial’ they are with their skinny jeans, side-fringes and colourful array of sexualities.

“Four Peronis, please,” Dan says to Frank, the beefy, bearded old barman in a voice that might be a shade lower than normal. 

Frank nods at him, which in Dan’s eyes is the equivalent of a hug from the surly man. All three of them have been coming here long enough now that Frank must know who they are, so it’s important to remain friendly and civil to him.

“Ordering for me, I see,” Phil says, appearing at Dan’s left elbow.

“Oh,” Dan says, having not even thought about it. “Sorry, I didn’t- do you like beer, or-”

Phil laughs at him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Dan wonders if he’d be so tactile if the gin and tonic from earlier wasn’t coursing through his veins.

“It’s fine,” Phil assures him. “I can do beer.”

“That’s the spirit, Phil,” Tyler says, pushing in between them to grab two of the Peronis Frank is putting on the bar. He takes a huge gulp from one, then burps softly into the crook of his elbow, grinning with pride. “You need to channel that masculine energy. Like Teddy and I.”

Dan laughs at this, rolling his eyes. “How will we ever keep up with you?”

“I’ll just take these to our table, you’re alright with getting this round, right Dan?”

Before Dan can respond, Tyler has disappeared, practically sprinting to the table Teddy has secured for them in the back. Dan glares after him, muttering about ungrateful moochers under his breath.

“Twenty quid, son,” Frank says, so Dan turns back, digging into his pocket.

Before he can even locate his wallet however, Phil is holding out a twenty pound note, and Frank is taking it from him without so much as a hesitation.

“Phil!” Dan exclaims. “You can’t- you didn’t have to-”

“Well I did,” Phil says, picking up one of the beers and sipping it, eyebrows raised. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Dan chokes on the sip of Peroni in his mouth, and pretends not to see the smirk Phil gives him in response. “Phil, if you flirt with me tonight I will combust.”

“Noted,” Phil says with a wink, making Dan want to strangle him. “Drink your beer, Howell.”

As Phil turns to walk towards the table, Dan feels his soul clawing its way out of his body, desperate to run after him, to seal him in an embrace and never let go. Instead, he nods his thanks at frowny Frank, and follows Phil to join the others.

*

“So how did you all meet?” Phil asks with a smile.

Dan’s a quarter of the way through his beer already, and it’s been two minutes since he sat down. The good news is, Phil is beautiful, and in the low lighting of this lamplit pub, his pale skin has a golden shimmer.

The bad news is, all of this beauty is squashed against Dan in the tight booth that the others have chosen. Teddy and Tyler, opposite them, are happily snuggled up against each other. Dan is trying to burrow into the wall at his side so that he doesn’t get the world’s most innappropriate boner from being pressed against the man he shouldn’t even be thinking about, let alone crammed drunkenly into a small space with.

He takes another gulp of beer. “We met at uni.”

“Dan and I were roomies,” Tyler says, grinning. “Isn’t that right, hun?”

“Really?” Phil asks, sounding intrigued. “Like, you shared a room?”

“I know, it’s a chilling thought,” Dan deadpans. “Don’t ask me how I restrained from stringing myself up with his collection of ties.”

Tyler rolls his eyes. “You loved it.”

Dan leans towards Phil, shaking his head. “He snores. Loudly.”

“I do not!”

“You do,” Teddy jumps in, causing Tyler’s mouth to drop. “Why do you think I bought you that nasal strip?”

“To stimulate my airflow- oh my God. The betrayal!”

Phil is laughing at them, his eyes light and happy. His smile is so big, so bright and sunny, that it seems like he has never been sad in his life. If anyone in this pub looked over, they’d never believe that Phil had ever sat on the floor of the staff bathroom yesterday and told Dan all the things he thought he should hear ‘because I know I won’t get to, now’.

Phil’s positivity is so large that it outweighs anything sad. And it’s painful to see. Because Dan is nothing but his sadness right now. It fills him from head to toe. He wishes he could sweep it to one side like Phil has, and just enjoy being here, but he can’t. Phil is a rare jewel that Dan discovered in a dingy classroom, shrouded in the dust of an ancient bureaucratic system that doesn’t understand him. Dan found him, uncovered him, brushed away the dust, and now, at his most sparkling, he’s been stolen away.

He doesn’t realise he’s staring until Phil says his name.

“Hm?” Dan answers, not really present, still.

“I said do you want to play?”

Dan blinks in bewilderment, dazzled by the bright blue of Phil’s eyes. “Play what?”

“Truth or dare,” Tyler answers, grinning mischievously.

Oh no, Dan thinks, straightening in fear.

“It’ll be fun!” Teddy sings, smiling at him. Definitely oh no.

At a loss, Dan turns back to Phil. The older man has an ignorant, naive expression on his face, resembling someone who has no fucking clue what he’s in for.

Phil shrugs at him; there’s a glimmer in his eye. “How bad could it be?”

*

“Truth.”

“Would you rather have Frank over there give you a twelve hour full body massage,” Tyler begins, and Teddy pales.

“With a happy ending,” Dan adds, laughing.

“Right! Or kiss him for… hmm, ten minutes.”

“With tongues,” Phil joins in, laughing as well. Teddy groans, placing his head into his hands.

Despite Dan’s initial reservations, the game is going well. It’s certainly helping to lift the tension Dan can feel wrapped like writhing snake around his and Phil’s shoulders. They’re having fun, and it’s honestly just what Dan needs right now. He hasn’t smiled properly since Tuesday.

“Ugh, I guess… kiss him,” Teddy says, and everyone makes noises of disgust.

“Poor Frank,” Tyler says, glancing over at where the man in polishing a glass behind the bar.

“Um, excuse me?” Teddy exclaims, jabbing Tyler in the chest. “Poor Frank?”

Tyler just laughs at him, turning to Phil. “Okay, you’re up, Frenchie.”

“You know, I’m from Rossendale,” Phil tells him, chuckling. “England. I just speak French.”

“Whatever,” Tyler says, batting his objections away. “It’s your turn, mon chéri.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Phil leans back in his seat, thinking. “Hmm. I think I’ll go with d-”

Dan’s hand flies out before he can stop it, clapping itself over Phil’s mouth. Phil’s eyes widen in alarm, head pushed back against the seat by the force.

“Don’t do it,” Dan urges, suddenly panicked. “They’re evil, Phil. Don’t underestimate them.”

Tyler scoffs, looking put out. “Dan, let the poor man make up his own mind.”

Dan removes his hand, still terrified. The problem is, Phil sees the good in everyone. He needs to realise that Tyler and Teddy only have a very limited supply of goodness in their entire bodies. And when they’re together, in situations like this, it almost entirely disappears.

Phil glances around the table, looking far more wary now than he was a moment before. He licks his lips, making Dan blush.

“Uh, truth then, I guess.”

“Ugh,” Tyler groans, banging his forehead on the table. “You see what you’ve done, Daniel? You’re a manipulative little weasel, using your seductive powers on a poor, unsuspecting young Frenchman-”

Dan tunes him out in order to lean close to Phil. “You made the right decision. He definitely had a dare in mind for you. Be careful.”

Phil nods seriously, but Dan can see the disbelieving little smirk he wears beneath it. He still doesn’t understand that he’s in danger here. Tyler is a fucking wild card, and as for Teddy once he’s had a few…

“Fine!” Tyler shouts, having finished his rant, apparently. “A fucking truth for Phil, then.”

“Where on his body is Dan most sensitive?” Teddy asks sweetly, tilting his head to one side.

Tyler turns to him, mouth agape. “Oh, I love you.”

The pub goes deathly silent, Dan is sure. A hush descends over the entire room, and all eyes swivel their way. Dan feels like he’s about to burst into flames, and as he stares down into the remains of his beer, he imagines it boiling under the heat of his laser-stare.

Phil laughs, sounding a bit thrown by the question. Perhaps that might be an understatement, but Dan genuinely can’t bring himself to look.

“Uh, how would I know that?” Phil asks, and Dan’s eyes flutter closed.

Teddy shrugs, smiling too wide. Dan had it all wrong. Tyler was never the one to fear. It was Teddy, all this time, the true demon, the ultimate nemesis, hidden behind Tyler’s boisterous attitude-

“No reason,” he chirps, taking a sip of his beer.

Tyler is kissing his hand in adoration; Dan wonders how much paperwork would be involved in trying to prematurely get out of their year-long lease of the house.

Dan takes a deep breath and sits up, forcing himself to look Phil in the eye. His expression is unreadable, but calm.

“So… you told them, then,” Phil guesses, one eyebrow cocked; somehow he’s still smiling, and it’s the only thing that’s holding Dan together.

Dan grimaces. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just that after you… on the boat-”

“Aha, so the boat was a thing!” Tyler interrupts, but Teddy shushes him.

“-after that,” Dan continues, his words jumbling together in his haste to get them out. “I was in the room alone and I was freaking out, so I don’t know why the fuck I thought it was a good idea, but I texted Ty. I just don’t have any other friends I could talk to about it and… yeah. So they know.”

Phil is nodding slowly, digesting the information as it spills, garbled, from Dan’s mouth.

“Say something, for the love of God,” Dan urges, feeling like he’s about to tumble over some glacial cliff-face.

“Neck,” Phil says, baffling everyone.

“Sorry?” Tyler asks.

“His neck,” Phil says again, he swallows some of his beer. “That’s where he’s most sensitive.”

Immediately, Dan seizes up, mortified, and buries his face in his elbow on the table. He groans, listening to the cackles of laughter coming from the other side of the table.

“I knew it!” Tyler exclaims, which is bullshit, Dan can’t help but think. “Steph would never tell me, but I just sensed it from how she smiled when I guessed his neck, do you remember Ted-”

“Who’s Stephanie?” Phil asks, calmly sipping some more beer.

Dan sits bolt upright, the humiliation slipping into terror once again. His heart simply cannot take this veering between extreme emotions, he’s sure. He tries to glare at Teddy and Tyler, to stop them from answering, but they are too plastered at this point to remember he’s even there.

“Oh, that’s Dan’s ex-girlfriend,” Teddy replies cheerily.

“Scary Stephanie,” Tyler laughs. “We call her that now because whenever we meet up with her all she does is glare at Dan and throw passive aggressive insults about him into conversation.”

“Like when she said he was always dropping not-so-subtle hints that he’s a furry-”

“Oh my GOD, please shut up!”

Tyler and Teddy turn to Dan, startled.

“Oh, it’s okay, sweetie. Phil understands!” Tyler says, giving him a bright smile.

Dan just rubs his eyes with his palms, trying to summon Satan himself to come and smite these two fuckwits before anything else comes out of their stupid mouths.

“I need another drink,” Dan groans, getting to his feet. He doesn’t dare look at Phil, because he knows he would instantly splinter into pieces, no matter what expression he found on Phil’s face. Instead, he stares resolutely at the table. “Can I get past you, please?”

As if it hadn’t even occurred to him until that point, Phil leaps up at once, sidestepping out of the booth so that Dan can get out. Dan mutters a vague ‘thanks’ and strides straight to the bar, not even bothering to ask if anyone else wants anything.

He beelines for Frank - sweet, predictably silent Frank - cursing himself for ever allowing this night to happen, and trying very, very hard not to imagine what further intimate details about his life Teddy and Tyler could be discussing with Phil right now.

*

Just as Dan feels the first, glorious sip of sharp, crisp Peroni on his tongue, a hand is slapping down a ten pound note onto the bar beside him.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Phil tells Frank with a smile so big, so charming, that Frank actually looks a little dazed.

“Oh, God, please allow me a moment to recover,” Dan groans, still not meeting his eye. “And I am absolutely paying for these, so-”

“Dan, your flatmates just outed you as a furry to a guy you’ve made out with once,” Phil reminds him. “I’ll get your drink.”

Dan turns to him, his defences flaring. “No, wait, okay, I’m not a furry, it was just a joke- Stephanie had no sense of humour, it was one of the reasons I broke up with her-”

Phil kisses him on the cheek.

It’s an effective method of stopping the rambling, Dan will give him that. His elbow also slips off the bar in his surprise, and he nearly topples to the dirty  floor. Phil catches him by the elbow just in time.

The whole few seconds are like a scene from a silent film.

“Uh,” Dan says, sure that Phil’s lips are probably scalded from the furnace of his cheeks. “I don’t… did you mean to…”

“Here you are, son.”

Phil turns to take the frothing pint from Frank, and presses the ten pound note into his outstretched hand. Dan is too dazed to argue, at this point.

“Merci,” Phil says, and the corner of Frank’s mouth quirks up.

It only makes the whole situation ten times more surreal.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I know,” Phil says quietly to Dan, one finger scooping up some beer-froth and depositing it into his mouth. Dan’s eyes helplessly follow the action. “I don’t appear to have a whole lot of self-restraint this evening.”

Dan’s eyes fall closed. “Great,” he says through gritted teeth. “Because we both know what a master of composure and dignity I am.”

Phil chuckles. “Are you really a furry?”

“No!” Dan exclaims, spilling some of his beer in frustration. “I told you-”

“I’m kidding,” Phil laughs, placing a hand on Dan’s arm. It could be made of razorblades, it’s so painful to feel. “Your flatmates are fun, but they seem to be kind of, um, what’s the word…?”

“Inconsiderate?”

“I was gonna go with dickheads, but sure,” Phil jokes, eyes sparkling.

Dan wonders if the reason Frank smiled in what is the first instance Dan has seen in all the time he’s been coming here, is because it’s hopeless to look at Phil and do anything but. He’s an ocean of warm, clear water, rippling and sparkling on a summer day. Dan wants to dive in, to submerge himself and never come out. More than that. He wants to drown.

“Is that what you are, then?” Dan finds himself saying.

Phil frowns in confusion. “Hm?”

“‘A guy I made out with once,” Dan reminds him. “A minute ago you said…”

“Oh,” Phil says, his smile fading a little. He shrugs. “I guess, yeah. But I hope I’m more than that, too.”

“Like what?” Dan says, his eyes stinging.

“Well, I hope I’m your friend, Dan.”

The fist that’s been clamped around Dan’s heart all night squeezes tight, too tight, and he feels it deflate like a burst balloon, until its shrivelled, a husk of itself.

“Oh,” Dan whispers, staring into his drink. “Yeah, of course you are.”

*

When they get back to the table, Tyler and Teddy are, rather noisily, making out.

Dan and Phil sit opposite them, eyes wide in a kind of fascinated horror, as they watch them paw at one another.

“It’s kind of grotesque… but I can’t look away,” Phil says softly. He immediately takes an enormous gulp of beer.

“They do this every time,” Dan sighs. “Imagine being here alone with them.”

“That sounds even worse.”

“Welcome to most of my Saturday nights.”

Phil turns to face him. “Maybe next time you should hang out with me instead.”

Dan snorts. “Right. Because we’re doing the mates thing now.”

“Yeah,” Phil says, a tiny smile on his face. “Mates-dates.”

Dan’s poor, shrivelled heart gives a tiny pang. “It was a real date once. How did that happen.”

“Dan,” Phil says, sad.

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, staring bitterly at Tyler and Teddy. “I know.”

How come it all came so easily to them? Dan lived with Tyler for their first year of university. Then one day, Teddy sat behind Dan in the lecture hall and noticed him streaming Peep Show on his laptop instead of taking notes. He leaned forwards and asked Dan to turn the subtitles on, and they became immediate friends. Dan brought him back to the flat one day, he met Ty, and that was it.

They dated for a while, had a lot of loud sex in the bedroom next to Dan’s, then in third year, Teddy moved in. And when Tyler and Dan decided to change up the flat for a bigger place somewhere further away from the town, Teddy was just included in the move.

It was all so simple with them.

Dan turns to Phil, a bit surprised at how close they’ve positioned themselves. Dan tells himself to move away, because it’s not helping things, but his body isn’t listening. Phil is like a magnet for him, alluring and irresistible.

One of Phil’s hands reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from Dan’s forehead. “What’re you thinking about?”

Dan could cry. He really could.

Phil’s eyes are so many shades of blue.

“Oh, just how the world hates me and wants me to suffer,” Dan replies in a vague attempt to keep things light.

Phil looks like he’s been struck with a hammer. The finger he used to sweep away the strand of hair traces around the curve of Dan’s cheek, gliding across his jaw.

“Fuck it,” Phil whispers.

Dan’s eyes widen at the unusual sound of Phil swearing, and then he’s being kissed. 

Not just kissed, but really kissed. 

He feels his head being cradled in two big, sturdy hands. Phil’s lips are sealed to his, soft but unyielding, trapping the breath in his lungs. Phil’s fingers plunge into his hair, raking over the base of Dan’s skull, making him shudder.

Dan leans into him, wanting closer, more, softer, rawer - everything he can get. Phil is a rain storm, splashing over the parched earth of Dan’s hopeless desire, conjuring life back into his roots, coaxing the withered leaves from their furls.

Dan is only aware of his own surroundings again when he hears a voice splitting through the heavenly vacuum that is Phil kissing him into dizzied, star-grazed pieces.

“Woaah, what’s goin’ on here then, fellas?” Tyler asks, apparently having surfaced from Teddy’s esophagus long enough to notice what was happening.

Phil draws back, sighing, and Dan’s entire soul is ripped out of his body, attached to Phil as he leans away.  “Problem, Tyler?”

“Nope,” Ty replies, staring at Dan, eyes wide and questioning. “Do continue.”

Without thinking about it, Dan grabs hold of Phil by the collar of his jumper and pulls him in, kissing him soundly, holding him in place. Phil makes a noise of surprise against his lips, laughing a little, but he allows it to happen nevertheless.

If Tyler and Teddy whistle and cheer in the background, Dan pretends not to hear them.

*

It usually takes the three of them far longer to wind their way back home from the pub than it does to walk down there, because, for lack of a better explanation, by the time they leave The Cat & Bear, they’re all usually plastered.

This time however, it takes even longer.

This is mostly because Dan cannot, for the life of him, stop kissing Phil. As he pauses to push their lips together for the third time in what must be five steps, he starts to wonder if he might have some kind of addiction. He’s never heard of anyone getting addicted to anything in less than half an hour, but that’s the only explanation he can think of.

“Dan, for God’s sake, Phil’s mouth will be there when we get home,” Teddy yells as he notices how far behind they are. “You’ve got the fucking house keys, now hurry up.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s grumpy because he thinks he’s gonna get laid when we get in, and you guys are preventing that,” Tyler calls to them, laughing.

Upon hearing this, Teddy promptly hoists Tyler up onto his shoulder, fireman style, making him shriek. Dan laughs as he watches Teddy begin running with him down the dark, deserted street, Tyler cursing and threatening him all the while.

“I’m surprised he can lift him,” Phil comments.

“Teddy’s one of those weirdly strong people,” Dan says, the two of them falling into step together, their linked hands swinging between them. “Looks like a twig, lifts like a Womping Willow.”

Phil chuckles. “Is that what you’re like, too?”

“Fuck no, I can’t lift a marshmallow.”

Before Dan can even fathom what’s happening, his arms are being pulled over Phil’s neck from behind, and his feet are no longer touching the floor. In seconds he’s hoisted onto Phil’s back, his thighs either side of Phil’s waist, clutched in his big, strong hands.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Dan babbles, terrified. He clings on for dear life, much to Phil’s amusement, and then they’re moving, faster than Dan would have thought possible, tearing down the road at a mad speed. “Oh my God, Phil, what the fuck are you-”

They catch up to Tyler and Teddy, who both scream with laughter when they see what’s happening. Somehow, there’s a half-incomprehensible conversation, and then they’re racing each other down the road, Tyler on Teddy’s back, Dan on Phil’s.

Dan is screaming for his life, so it seems, and somehow they’re winning. When they cross the finish line (a streetlight), Phil somehow swivels Dan round his body, allowing him to slip off, and kisses him, in the middle of the road, to the tune of Tyler’s screams of ‘cheaters!’.

*

Tyler insists on the final drink when they get home. Dan tries to protest, because honestly the walls are already breathing, but Tyler cannot be reasoned with, particularly when drunk.

They sit in the lounge, Dan on the end of the sofa where Phil’s feet will be when he lays down here tonight. He feels like he’s floating, like the air itself is made of helium, and he’s about to drift off into the centre of the room, buffeted about like a feather in a breeze. Then, he looks down at his hand, interlocked with Phil’s so tightly that he wonders whether the lack of blood flow might affect him. Phil is anchoring him to the spot, keeping him safe, present, whole.

Phil smiles at him, sparks of colour flying from his beautiful face. There are no words in Dan’s mind anymore, when he looks at Phil. Only shapes, vibrations, and thick, glutinous adoration, coating every muscle, every vein, every molecule of his body.

“Ugh, get a room,” Teddy says, making Tyler giggle.

Phil blushes, tearing his eyes from Dan’s. “Actually guys, I think you’ll find you’re in my room.”

“You’d better fucking not have sex on this couch, Dan,” Tyler warns.

“Oh my God, Ty,” Dan groans; he’d actually thought the humiliation was over for the night. Oh, what a fun treat it is to find out that that’s not true.

“Who wants to watch some bad movies and drunkenly bitch about the actors?” Teddy asks brightly.

Tyler groans, his eyes rolling back. “Nobody does, darling.”

“But-”

“I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

The protest dies on Teddy’s lips, and he visibly perks up, nodding. “Good idea.”

Teddy downs the last of his G & T in one gulp, and rises from the armchair, holding out a hand for Ty.

“Night, guys!” Teddy calls as Tyler stands to join him, rolling his eyes at Dan and Phil.

“He’s so easy,” Tyler tells them. “Night boys. Hope the sofa isn’t too uncomfortable, Phil.”

There’s an obvious laugh concealed in his voice, and Teddy hears it at once, snorting.

“Yeah, hope you have an okay night out here all on your own, Phil!” Teddy calls over his shoulder, sending Tyler into fits of giggles. “Dan, Tyler and I will all see you in the morning!”

“Fuck off, will you,” Dan shouts vaguely as he hears footsteps climbing the stairs, and then, mercifully, they are gone.

In their absence, a silence settles, like the dust after a tornado.

“So,” Dan says after a moment, just for something to break the quiet. Phil’s thumb is stroking over the top of his knuckles - very distracting. “D’you… do you wanna watch a film or something? We could watch Buffy, I think it’s on Netflix…”

Phil uses their connected hands to drag Dan across the space between them, until they’re pressed against one another, faces close. Dan’s heart is about to give out, he’s sure. Phil’s kiss re-inflated it, but it’s still damaged, and unsure.

Dan has no idea what is happening. This whole night has been the wildest rollercoaster, throwing him curveballs left and right. He doesn’t think he’s had one consecutive emotion for more than three minutes at one time, all evening.

Why would Phil kiss him, now, after everything he’s said, after breaking Dan into bits as he listed all the reasons he couldn’t? Dan feels like he’s been hurled out into space, totally lost, spinning and tumbling through a void, surviving on the snippets of oxygen Phil is handing him in the form of kisses.

“Dan, stop thinking,” Phil tells him in a whisper. “I did it, I kissed you. It’s too late to take it back. I broke the rules, and it’s already happened. Let’s not think about it anymore.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Dan admits, saddened by his own words.

Phil frowns, but nods in understanding. “Can we stop thinking about it… just for tonight, then?”

Dan hesitates, caught up again in the impossible depths of Phil’s swirling blue eyes. Their lips are so close already, but Phil tilts forwards just a little, brushing them together. And in that one, fleeting touch, a tsunami surges up inside of Dan, ferocious in its want for the man in front of him, suffocating and everywhere.

“Okay,” Dan finds himself saying.

He expects Phil to kiss him, then, but instead he just smiles. It’s a smile of relief, Dan thinks, of letting go of whatever troubles that might have been plaguing that bizarre, beautiful mind.

In the wake of the expected kiss, Dan shifts, feeling all of a sudden unsure. 

What exactly is going to happen now?

“So, did you want me to put Buffy on?”

An amused smile forms on Phil’s lips. “No,” he says softly. “She’d only get jealous.”

“Of what?”

This time, Phil does kiss him. He hauls Dan onto his lap, and kisses him senseless, his hands bracing Dan’s waist, fingertips skimming the skin below the hem of Dan’s shirt.

Dan falls into it, tasting nirvana in the sweep of Phil’s tongue across his lip, and feeling, in his pounding heart, the formation of a new star. Phil uses his teeth, capturing Dan’s lip, scraping along his jaw. He moves to Dan’s neck, lighting every single one of Dan’s nerves on fire; Dan winds his fingers into Phil’s hair, tightly - maybe too tightly - but Phil doesn’t seem to care.

At the very instant Dan can’t take a second more, he draws back, sensing another hickey is already blooming, but hardly giving it a second thought. He brings his forehead to Phil’s, breathing hard, and says, “you don’t have to sleep here, you know.”

Phil smiles, mischievous. “I don’t?”

“Not if you… don’t want to.”

“But, Dan,” Phil says, his voice innocent, his hands sliding up Dan’s thighs. “Where else would I sleep?”

“Maybe…. you won’t be sleeping,” Dan replies, internally cringing at his attempts at flirtation.

How does Phil make this look so easy?

Phil’s hands are on his hips now, gradually moving still; Dan’s trying to breathe through it, but he can feel how the touch is affecting him, systematically unthreading each stitch that’s holding him together.

“Why would I not be sleeping, exactly?”

That’s it, Dan decides. He cannot take one fucking millisecond more of this. Phil is right, they can shove everything else to the side, because Dan has spent what feels like eons waiting for this opportunity. So, he slides off Phil’s lap, stands up, and holds out his hand.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Dan says.

(Part Thirteen!)