#it's difficult feeling so dejected and it's difficult not feeling jealous of authors who get lavished with praise for absolutely nothing

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[margarethx]

The Sambucky fandom spends a lot of time and energy on calling out writers for using problematic, often straight up racist, tropes in their fics. And rightfully so, because some of said tropes are not only unplesant to read for many readers, but also harmful if they help to perpetuate some awful stereotypes. That being said... I feel like we need to show the other side of the spectrum more often and sometimes focus on people who don’t make these mistakes.

----- ------- -----

So here is my personal THANK YOU! to all the writers who have never used these offensive stereotypes in their Sambucky fanfiction and who:

1. Give as much attention to Sam’s side of the story as they give to Bucky’s and do not focus solely on Bucky’s emotions about their developing relationship when it’s a mixed POV.

2. Acknowledge Sam’s trauma and all the loss he experienced in the past (not only in the context where his pain is used to help him better connect with another person who’s hurting).

3. Show other characters (Bucky or not) helping Sam go through his more diffucult moments (bad days, nightmares, painful flashbacks).

4. Show Sam having these more difficult moments.

5. Don’t act like Bucky’s traumatic past is enough of an excuse for his unpleasant behaviour towards Sam. (E.g. they don’t write a story where Sam forgives Bucky every mean, ignorant comment without thinking, just because Bucky’s sad.)

6. Show Sam experiencing variety of emotions - not just frustration and adoration towards Bucky. Show him being sad, happy, disappointed, confused, hopeful, dejected, relieved, terrified, confident etc.

7. Show Sam being the more vulnerable one in the relationship (in general or just in cerain situations)

8. Write scenes where Sam is shy or a little awkward (about his relationship with Bucky or about something else). Also write him being insecure sometimes.

9. Write just as much about Sam’s appearance as they do about Bucky’s. (Both as a narrator and through a character’s compliments or thoughts.)

10. Mention how beautiful Sam’s eyes are... especially if there is more than one line about them. (Plus mention their colour like... at all.)

11. Describe Sam’s appearance focusing on something outside of his smile or muscles. (Not that these are not nice, but there are other things to compliment and they’re hardly ever pointed out.) (Very much including hair or skincolour.)

12. Write Sam making mistakes, but not in a way that insinuates that he’s stupid or incompetent, but in a way that shows he’s a normal person who can sometimes be wrong and own up to it. (Unless he’s the only person in the story who always messes up...)

13. Show Sam being very competent. And show Bucky appreciating Sam’s competence, skills, and knowledge in various fields. (Also write Sam being a badass.)

14. Write about Sam’s background in pararescue, his medical training, skills in combat, flexibility, speed, ability to fly, ability to fix his advanced equipment, strenght, the fact that he’s pretty stealthy etc...

15. Write about the importance of Sam’s relationship with Steve even when Steve’s past connection to Bucky is not relevant to the story at any point.

16. Write Bucky being openly grateful for all the things that Sam did for him and write Bucky helping Sam back even when Sam didn’t specifically ask, because they genuinely care about each other.

17. Write about Sam’s past as a therapist not in the context of him helping Bucky get better, but because it’s relevant to the story and it’s something he has a lot of experience with. Or simply because it’s a significant part of his previous life journey.

18. Show Sam being frustrated or angry without falling into bad stereotypes. And show why his anger was justified and he had the right to react like that, because he doesn’t have to be polite and dyplomatic about everything if other people (Bucky very much included) don’t act respectful towards him in the first place.

19. Acknowledge that Sam is AJ and Cass’s actual uncle. The kids might like Bucky, but they’ve known and loved Sam for way longer... and I rarely see that mentioned.

20. Write about Sam’s past romantic relationships without focusing only on Bucky being jealous about them.

21. Show Sam’s interactions with other characters - not just in a romantic context, but also in terms of friendships (MCU Natasha was closer to Sam than Bucky and fics rarely talk about that), professional cooperation, rivalry and so on.

22. Mention the social commentary brought up in tfatws without brushing it to the side or downplaying the importance of Sam’s race in the formation of his character and storyline.

23. Acknowledge that Sam is human and his body is not enhanced in any way... without making it sound like he’s too weak to do the job.

24. But also... write about Bucky using his super strenght to carry Sam around and to pick him up all the time (for whatever reason), because it’s cute. Sue me.

25. Point out that Sam is slightly shorter than Bucky without always making Sam weirdly insecure about it.

26. Write Sam as Bucky’s first choice... not a second option he picked for the lack of a better candidate for a boyfriend.

27. Understand that Sam has a life outside of Bucky even if their friendship and romantic relationship are obviously very important for him.

28. Write Bucky touching Sam in reassuring, delicate ways. (Holding his hands,  cupping his face, touching his hair, kissing the tip of his nose.)

29. Let Sam make harmless jokes, be charming, and be actually a nice person even when he’s not actively helping anyone. Just let him have a complex, but pleasant personality.

30. Let him be sarcastic without making him mean.

31. Add Figaro (Sam’s cat) to the stories about pets. Or show Sam’s emotional attachment to Redwing, even when it’s still a drone, not a bird.

32. Don’t forget that Riley died. And Sam’s parents died. And his close friends died. And other close friend left him without saying goodbye... etc. (Also don’t forget he himself died at one point...)

33. Mention and discuss Sam’s sexuality and romantic orientation (both in the tags to the story and in the actual text). ...I feel like it’s often unspecified for no reason while Bucky’s identity is clear from the start.

34. Give Sam little hobbys and interests that are unrelated to his work or his ability to make other people’s lives better.

35. Write about Sam’s fears and doubts while not forgetting he’s generally a very brave, mostly confident person.

36. Make the audience feel like Sam is a necessary part of the story. Not just a character added hastily at the end of writing just so the author can tag his name, because the ship he’s a part of is currently more popular than before and showind him at last minute will attract some readers to click.

and... 37. Do the things mentioned above in all of their Sambucky stories and use more than one of these ideas at a time.

----- ------- -----

To people who wrote stories with these tropes... You guys are doing a great job and I appreaciate your work a lot. It’s easy to focus on complaining, because the Sam/Bucky tag on Ao3 was always kind of a mess, but my day genuinely gets better every time I find one of your stories. So thank you again and keep it up :>

(Side note: if you have any recommendations for fics that use the ideas I wrote in this post feel free to link them in the comments. Because the bar is hanging pretty low at this point and some authors still wouldn’t be able to cross a single point from my list if they examined their - allegendly - “Sambucky” stories... so we should promote the content that is actually good.)

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

[miyaniacs]

Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

A/N: AYT it’s here - took me longer than planned, but hey I wrote all of this just now lol so sorry if it’s all over the place. 

Chapter 11 - The encounter 

words: 2.310

warnings: uhmm maybe lowkey toxic behavior of Ushijima and Bokuto and mentions of past trauma I guess 

Chapter 10 - Jealous?  Index ; masterlist

Sunday 10am 

“Today four dead bodies have been found, in west Tokyo. All four of them are  yet to be identified. Apparently the bodies are in such a horrible state, making it hard to identify them, we spare all of you with any further details. 

The police asks for any witnesses or anyone missing someone (…)” 

With a big sigh you fell backwards resting your body on Bokutos chest.

 You knew exactly who did this and ohh how badly you want to text him, making sure if he’s okay. You knew that you’re the reason those four men lost their life… well no. It’s their fault, it’s just your fault that Ushijima was so brutal. 

“What’s wrong princess?” Bokutos arms wrap around our waist and he nuzzles his face in your neck. 

“Nothing…” you sigh. You feel his soft lips gazing over your skin, his breath tickling you as he lets out a sigh himself. 

“Princess… you know you can trust me right?” You can feel him pout against your skin.

“Yes I do Kou…” you shift in his arms and face him. His big golden eyes practically stare into your soul. “I just don’t know what to do when I sit in his lecture tomorrow.” You look down on your hands, which are currently fiddling with his shirt. His eyes soften and he presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Y/n. You don’t have to go to his class tomorrow.” He suggests, “I’d be way more save for you to not go to university at all.” He says and softly combs his fingers through your hair, getting stuck in all the countless knots he caused last night while…, having fun with you. 

“Kouu… that would be way too suspicious, also I need to go to his class.. I need to pass it to start my last semester next year.” You whine and hide your face in his neck. Bokuto pulls you closer to him, resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. 

“I’ll think of something okay?” He mumbles and kisses your head. 

Monday 9am 

You sit in Bokutos car and look down at your bag. Your class, with Professor Ushijima, starts in 15 minutes.

 Are you actually excited to see him again? Yes. 

You grab your bag, about to open the door when you hear Bokuto turn off the car. Confused you turn around and look at him. He smiles brightly at you. 

“Guess who’s a guest student for a few weeks now!” He beams. It takes all of your strength to keep up a happy face now.

 Guest student? That means he’ll be in probably all your classes for now on… which means you get no chance to talk to Ushijima and get any information on what they are planning to do … nor will you be able to be close to him again. All of your plans crumble down in front of your eyes while you watch Bokuto get out of the car and walking around the car to open your door. 

“Nawww you’re so happy you lost your voice?” He teases and waits for you to get out. You just nod, your brain working on any kind of plan to throw Bokuto off. 

“Are… are you mad at me?” He suddenly asks and takes your hands in his, looking directly in your eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you’ll be save.” He mumbles and starts playing with your fingers. 

“No.. No - I’m not mad at you! I’m just overwhelmed.” You force out a smile, but sadly, he’s got way too good at reading you. His head drops and he looks at you with his puppy eyes. “I’m so sorry. I should have know that it would come off as too… controlling and observing… and untrusting. Please. Y/n. You know I trust you right? I just want the best for you… and for you to be save.” He says dejected. 

“Kou… I know you do. I just … I- “ you stutter before he interrupts you. “I know, you need your space. Let me cancel being a student here… just… please text me so I know you’re okay.” He lets go of your hands and forces a smile. Without an idea what has gotten over you, you grab his arm and say: “No. Please don’t. I don’t mind spending more time with you.” 

Why do you always got make your life more difficult than it has to be. 

Here you are now, next to Bokuto, fingers interlaced, while you walk to the lecture. 

Monday 10am 

It’s pure torture. 

First of all you can’t concentrate on anything due to all the girls around you gossiping about Ushijima OR Bokuto. 

Also Ushijima isn’t really found of the sight of you sitting next to Bokuto right in front of him, which makes him exposing you in front of the whole class with asking you questions, you can not answer simply to the fact that 1. Everyone around you is talking about how hot your two love interests are and 2. Bokutos hand is casually resting on your thigh and 3. The tone in Ushijima’s voice is reminding you of … different scenarios. 

Yes, Bokuto and your best friends are trying to help you out, yet nothing goes unnoticed by the great Ushijima. 

After 2 hours your torture ended.

Or so you thought. 

“Y/n. I need to talk to you, please wait in front of my office.”

You sink down in your seat again and close your eyes. Has he been doing all the exposing just to have a valid reason to talk to you in private?  

“Princes, hey, come on let’s go.” Bokuto grabs your arms and pulls you up. 

Your friends already left for their next lecture, so now it’s only you and him again. 

“Hey.. you’re not going to him.” He says in a demanding voice, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re still not used to see him with that much authority. 

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea… maybe he needs to talk to me?” You assume. 

“Well… and what if he simply tries to kill you?” He says and stops walking, looking down at you. 

“And what if he doesn’t?” You say and look directly in his eyes. 

Bokuto narrows his eyes, but you hold still and after a few seconds he huffs: “Fine. But I’ll come with you.” 

You smile at him and grab his collar pulling him down to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Deal.” 

Monday 11:55am 

The air in Ushijimas office is as thick as it can get. Bokuto and him are standing in front of each other, arms crossed, having what seems to be a starring contest. 

“Uhm.. so you-“ you begin getting annoyed of the two of them. 

“NO!” They say in union. 

Rolling your eyes you sit down in one of the chairs and look at them with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well… if you keep on starring at each other I can just leave so you can do whatever you want to do.” You suggest-  finally catching their attention as both look at you. 

“Stop talking as if we’re still friends.” Ushijima says harshly at you and you flinch at his raised voice.

 Right. You forgot. They want to kill you. You’re betraying them. Get your act up Y/n. 

Sinking down in the chair you look up at Ushijima. 

Gosh, you really never wan him to be really mad at you.. you know he’s just acting right now, he’d never actually hurt you, yet you feel relived as Bokuto steps in your view, shielding you from him. 

“Touch her and you’re dead.” He hisses, his voice now dangerously low. 

“Pff, why would I ever lay a finger on her again. She isn’t worth me killing her.” Your heart stings at Ushijima’s words, but he’s still not finished. “I just wanted to warn you.” He laughs. 

“Warn who?” Bokuto asks. 

“You.” 

“Of what?”

“Well… let’s just say, you and your gang aren’t as secretive as you should be.” He smiles arrogantly and takes a step back, opening the way to the door. 

“Leave now.” He grumbles, “Oh and Bokuto - hope you have fun with that hoe.” He growls and before you or Ushijima can react, Bokutos fist already collides with Ushijimas face. 

“Call her a hoe one more time.” Bokuto hisses, his whole aura sifting on full on Mafia mode, there’s nothing left of the sweet loving Bokuto you’re used to see. When you look at him now, you can truly see how tall and muscular he is, his eyes carrying a dangerous deadly glint in them, his hand still in a fist, his knuckles slightly red form the force of the punch. 

Ushijima just laughs, holding his face where Bokutos fist hit him. “And what are you doing then? Huh? I’m just telling the truth. She would have went to bed with you straight away the first time you saw her, just to get close to you and get informations.”  He takes a step closer to Bokuto, both of them now standing face to face, their foreheads almost touching. The tension lingering in the air is visible for anyone in the room. 

Bokuto’s breathing heavily, trying his best to hold himself back. Between gritted teeth he whispers: “ That’s only because you’d force her to do so.”  

Much to Bokutos dislike, Ushijima again laughs. He knows exactly that you’re not forced to do anything, so this whole situation is rather amusing for him. 

Bokuto’s whole body is shaking out of rage. 

You have to do something now, otherwise everything will escalate in a matter of seconds. 

Carefully you take a step forward and place your hand on Bokutos arm. His muscles are flexed, ready to throw another punch. 

“Kou… please, let us leave.” You say softly, but it seems as if he isn't registering you next to him. His eyes are still fixed on Ushijima, watching every little move, ever litte change in his mimic. 

“Bokuto… please.” You say louder and slightly tuck on his arm. 

Finally he snaps out of his trance and looks down at you, his eyes still showing the same deadly glance he had while looking at Ushijima. You swallow loudly and suddenly you feel extremely small and vulnerable. Letting go of his arm you take a few steps back. 

Ushijima stiffens as he sees your anxious state, ready to blow everything and step in-between Bokuto and you if he dares to take a step closer to you. 

Bokutos eyes soften and his face drops as soon as he realises that he’s the reason why you’re eyes are now filled with fear. 

“Y/n…” He takes a step closer to you and extends his arm, trying to touch you. Your reflexes act before you can think and you instantly take a step back. 

The look you saw in his eyes, reminded you of the way those guys looked at you the night you first met Ushijima. 

Bokutos eyes fill with sadness and he drops his arm, his shoulders sink down and he takes a few steps backwards. 

Immediately your mind is filled with regret. You know for a fact that Bokuto would never intentionally hurt you, never, despite all of this though, you still get those throwbacks. 

“Kou.. I’m sorry.” You mumble and walk over to him to wrap your arms around him. 

“Please spare me with this shit.” Ushijima’s voice echos through the room and both yours and Bokuto’s gaze shifts to where he stands. 

“Leave now.” He says and crosses his arms. 

A bit hesitate Bokuto grabs your hand and leads you out of the room. 

Non of you say a single word while walking directly towards the black Bugatti. The whole drive was silent. Bokuto’s jaw tightly clenched, while you didn't dare to look at him. 

He stops the car as soon as he’s in front of his apartment. 

“Go inside, I have to discuss something with the boss.” He says without looking at you his eyes still fixed on the street. 

“Kou… let me explain… please.” You begin. You can not simply leave him alone now, while he lives with the thought in his head, that you’re afraid of him. 

“Later.” He says coldly, but finally turns around to look at you for the first time since you two left Ushijima’s office. His brows furrow and his eyes soften as soon as he sees how genuinely sad you look. “I promise we talk later.” He says, in a total different tone and gently cups your face in his hand. You lean your head into his touch and close your eyes, while a small tear runs down your face.

When you open them again, you’re met with the Bokuto you’re used to see. His soft and gentle aura calming you down immediately. 

“Don’t cry my love.” He says, caressing your face with his fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologise. Non of this is your fault. I should have known better. You already told me how you’ve met Ushijima. It was my fault.” He says, his smile now dropping into a sad, regretful one. You open your mouth to protest, but he quickly places his lips on yours in a gentle loving kiss, shutting you up. 

“No. Don’t say anything. I promise you, you will never see me like this again. I can’t bear knowing that you’re afraid of me, even if it’s only a tiny little bit of you fearing me.” He mumbles before kissing you again. “Now please, get inside. And I hope to find you in one of my sweatshirts when I get back home.” He smiles genuinely and pokes the tip of your nose, making you giggle. 

“Okay, I can’t promise not to take your Vetements one tough.” You laugh. 

“Whatever I own is yours.” He smiles lovingly and watches you getting out of the car. 

@tendouthighs​​ ,  @lilacshouko​​ @softhourswithseb​​@theperksofcoffee​​ @cuddlesslut​​  @shhhlikeme​​, @kynyta​​ @yammmers​​  @asahi-is-jesus-periodt​​ @hxnni-bxnni​​@theduvetpirate​​ @chromaticstudio​​ @gywjd0131​​​ @haikyuusimp91​​​ @kara-grayson04​​​ @saucysamu​​ @brokeyiam​​

[crystaiskiess]

Blinded with Love

AO3 Link Summary:  In order to be Phil's friend there were two essential rules 1) They must have a good dose of sarcasm And more importantly 2) they most completely and absolutely cannot treat him differently for being blind

Author’s Notes: This fic was written for the phandom big bang! It was a hard journey and I hope you guys enjoy the result

Check out the incredible art done by @cas-tellation​!!!

Artwork

Nothing sucked more than your closest - read: only - friend being away from school. Arguably he had more than one friend, mostly because Phil had a lot of acquaintances, some might call themselves his friends but he had two requirements for such a feat.

1) They must have a good dose of sarcasm

And more importantly 2) they most completely and absolutely cannot treat him differently for being blind, this was essential.

The second requirement disqualifies almost the entirety of his year level, minus PJ, which brings Phil back to his original point. PJ being away, completely and utterly sucks.

 He was sitting outside where there was always empty seats available, and because he enjoyed the way the cold air nipped at his skin. He ran his fingers over the small bumps of his book, reading about Elizabeth Bennet and her crazy family in Pride and Prejudice with a small smile. This book never failed to make him feel relaxed and amused, there was something about the way life used to work in those days that made him laugh. A crunch of gravel drew him out of his thoughts, someone huffed in what seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion but it was impossible to tell without an expression to match.

 “Fuck I’m here half an hour early,” the voice groaned, Phil didn’t recognise it but that didn’t necessarily tell him anything, it was hard to place all the names and voices in his year level let alone the entire school. He allowed a small chuckle as the boy flopped onto the bench seat, clearly unaware of Phil sitting right there. Phil felt the bench bounce slightly as the voice, which sounded male, started in shock.

 “Oh shit sorry I didn’t see you there,” the person apologised with an awkward laugh, “I’m Dan Howell, I’m new here.” There was an awkward pause where Phil tried to guess whether or not Dan was waiting for a handshake, eventually he settled with a hope that he was indeed not doing so, and prayed that he was correct, yet another reason he needed PJ to be there.

 “I’m Phil,” he introduced himself with a smile, hoping he was looking in the correct direction, “is this your first day?”

There was a long pause and Phil internally cringed, realising Dan must have nodded, “erm yeah, I just moved here from Reading,” Dan added, confirming Phil’s suspicions that he had nodded.

 “Oh cool! Do you know anyone here?” he asked as he closed his book, sliding his hand along to where he knew his bag was so he could put the book away. He heard Dan huff a laugh of disbelief, Phil could imagine an awkward neck scratch which he executed many a time accompanying it.

“Nah, I’ve only spoken to you,” Dan’s voice betrayed a slight wobble, which Phil guessed meant he was nervous, not that he could blame him, first days must be hard.

Phil grinned at him, “Awesome! You can hang with me then, my friend’s away today so I needed someone anyway!”

 Phil could hear the smile in Dan’s voice as he responded, “Really?” Phil nodded and he felt Dan bounce with excitement, “That’s so great ah thank you so much,” he rambled, “I struggle so much on first days it’s just so difficult to make friends when you’re an awkward lanky teenager with no social skills you know?”

 Phil laughed loudly, “I totally get it,” he replied with a smirk, gesturing to his own lanky form. Dan giggled in response, Phil could hear that it was muffled behind a hand and he smiled warmly. “So first day huh?” He continued the conversation, tucking his bag beside his foot and leaning back so he could face Dan properly as he knew it made people more comfortable, “What’s that like?”

 Dan made a noise somewhere between disbelief and a groan of annoyance, “You’ve never had a first day?” He asked.

“Not since nursery,” Phil shrugged, “my whole year level moved together.” He smiled softly at the jealous whine Dan emitted, it sounded like he had buried his face in his hands.

There was a slightly muffled sigh and then Dan responded saying, “It usually sucks, no one talks to me,” Phil felt his face slip into a small frown as Dan’s tone turned dejected and slightly broken, “I’ve moved schools a lot I’m kinda used to it,” Phil could hear the self deprecating smile in his words as Dan shuffled on the bench, his shoes scuffing the gravel around.

 “Well I’m talking to you,” Phil offered with a weak smile and some cheesy jazz hands, he listened with a brighter smile as Dan laughed again.

“Yeah you are,” Phil could hear the grin in Dan’s voice, “but that’s unusual.”

Phil laughed, leaning back on his hand and winking “That’s me, unusual Phil,” he grinned as Dan laughed quietly, his feet still shuffling the gravel floor.

 “You own your originality though!” Dan complimented, Phil listened to the scuffles intently and guessed Dan was probably talking about the bright Steven Universe t-shirt he was wearing that day.

Phil shrugged with a chuckle, running a hand through his messy quiff, he was still adjusting to the new style but PJ assured him it was a definite improvement, “I guess so! Still, my originality has left me without a friend today until you,” he pointed out. Dan made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat, almost a huff.

 “Works for me, it’s nice to have someone to talk to for once,” the other boy sighed, he sounded almost nostalgic, Phil wondered how long it had been since Dan made a friend. Perhaps he was a ‘one close friend’ person like Phil was, or maybe he was more of a ‘spread yourself around’ kind of guy. Phil suspected the former, Dan didn’t seem like a social butterfly.

 “I can understand that,” he smiled warmly at the new boy, “So are you doing any of the Science subjects? I have a boring day and it would be nice to have someone in my class”

Dan responded almost immediately, “Yeah I have Psych second, with… Miss Mendie?”

Phil glowed with excitement, he had thought he would go lonely today but at least they shared one class together, “Me too!” he responded eagerly, hopefully not too eagerly.

That didn’t seem to be the case though as Dan sounded like he was bouncing as he responded, “Oh awesome! Here have a look at this and tell me if you’re in any of my other classes,” Phil listened as a bag unzipped and a piece of paper was thrust in his hands.

“O-oh I-” he started but Dan cut him off.

“Sorry it’s messy but I was in a rush when I got my timetable,” he chuckled. Phil wasn’t really sure how to respond, he looked down to his hands where he was holding the paper, how had Dan not noticed?

 He opted for changing the topic instead, “It’s weird that you don’t have to go to that principal meeting,” Phil hummed, he thought of all the other new students who had joined the school over the course of the six years he had attended there, “Every other new student did.”

 There was a long pause, a silence that stretched so long that Phil began to wonder if maybe Dan was miming something, or had just up and left, when suddenly an exclamation of, “OH SHIT” echoed through the courtyard. Dan must have been checking his phone, maybe emails? Or a text from his parents?

“I have to go to that! Fuck fuck fuck fuck thank you so much fuck fuck” Dan mumbled as he made a lot of scuffling noises, a zip of a bag made Phil realise he was getting up to leave, “Ah! My timetable! Did we have anything together aside from Psych?” Dan asked and Phil begun to stammer out an explanation when Dan interrupted again, “Nevermind sorry I have to go! I’m already late! I’ll see you in Psych?”

Phil laughed a little at the irony, calling out to the retreating footsteps, “See you then!”

 ~-~-~

 To say Dan was having the best first day of his life would be the understatement of the century, he grinned to himself as he slipped into his seat first period. Still taken aback by the fact that he had managed to make a new friend within the first few minutes, something he had never achieved before. Even the teacher forcing him to stand and deliver an awkward introduction wasn’t enough to bring down his mood. Phil was one of the nicest people Dan had ever met, with laughing blue eyes and a bright smile he was the epitome of welcoming, combined with his friendly banter there was nothing Dan could be unhappy about.

There was something that confused him, the way Phil would occasionally look in slightly the wrong direction, and didn’t respond to any nodding or other non-verbal communication, but that wasn’t enough for Dan to really have any concerns, as he said, he rarely made new friends on the first day.

 His hand twitched towards his phone, it was digging into his side through the side pocket in his jeans, “probably not the best impression to make on my new teachers,” he mumbled to himself as he opened his text book with a sigh. The urge to text Louise, his childhood friend from home, and tell her all about Phil was incredibly strong however. He opted instead to doodle horrifically drawn stick figures on the side of his page, keeping his ears listening to the teacher.

 Mr Marshall was a balding thin man who appeared to ramble often and didn’t seem to notice students listening to music and chattering at the back of the classroom. He continued to drone on, and Dan felt his eyes grow hazy as he listened, man this guy was boring. He found himself thinking more about his interaction with Phil instead. The boy was a beacon of light, he had seemed ridiculously eager to invite Dan to sit with him, which was surprising since Dan figured someone as caring and fascinating as him should have had loads of friends. Not that Dan was complaining, he was more than happy to sit with Phil that lunch period, and as many in the future as he would be allowed in all honesty. In fact, he was already watching the clock in anticipation for the next period. Maybe it was the excitement, or the longing to talk to someone but the clock seemed to tick slower than usual.

 Twenty minutes and thirty two seconds to go.

Thirty one seconds.

Thirty seconds…

 ~-~-~

 Phil stared in the direction of the door, he could have sworn this was the class Dan had said they shared. Maybe he had heard wrong, it had happened rather quickly in the end, and Dan had showed him the timetable but Phil hadn’t had time to explain before the other boy had taken off to his meeting.

 He shrugged and listened in interest as the class bustled around him, people scraping their chairs along the ground, presumably to chat with their friends before the teacher arrived. Chatter echoed around the room and Phil sat in silence, his fingers tracing shapes on the desk absentmindedly. He didn’t mind the silence, finding a familiar comfort in trying to differentiate between the voices of his peers, however with the uncomfortable voice in the back of his mind telling him that Dan was in the room but had decided sitting with the blind kid wasn’t worth it he was struggling to find his usual enjoyment.

 He sighed in disappointment as the teacher announced her presence, hoping that maybe he had misheard Dan and they actually shared an English class, not a Psychology class. Deep in his mind he knew that he hadn’t misheard but he shoved that knowledge away and focused his attention on the class. Psychology was one of Phil’s favourite classes, his teacher was an energetic and fun lady who bounded around the room and made every part of the brain seem like an adventure with the way her booming voice excitedly told them new facts. PJ had informed Phil that she was a short lady, which amused Phil because she had so much energy he didn’t see how it could fit in a small person, she achieved it nonetheless.

 “Alright you crazy kids who remembers what we learnt last lesson?” Miss Mendie asked and Phil smiled to himself, settling into his chair and trying to force his brain to forget about Dan, he still had PJ and that was enough for him.

 As he accepted that thought there was a soft knock at the door, Phil listened as the class froze in their movements, presumably looking in the direction of the door as he now was. A murmur ran through the class, too quiet for Phil to hear what they were all saying but loud enough that he could hear the confusion in their tone. He huffed in frustration as he waited to be filled in, this was why he needed more friends.

 “Alright alright you chatterboxes!” the teacher regained the attention of the class with ease, Phil could imagine her huge arm movements and bright smile as she silenced the classroom, “We have a new student joining our class! This is Daniel, or Dan?” She asked and Phil grinned as he realised his new friend had been late.

“Dan is fine,” Dan mumbled in his posh southern accent, and Phil tried to send him a reassuring smile, hoping it was in the correct direction.

He could hear the smile in Miss Mendie’s voice as she said, “Righto! Dan it is, be kind to him!” She said with a teasing lilt to her voice, Phil imagined her wagging a finger at them, “There’s an empty seat next to Mr Lester; Dan why don’t you pop there?”

 The class continued to buzz, a soft murmur like the hum of a bee’s wings, Phil listened as Dan moved through the classroom, mumbling apologies and scraping past chairs. Waiting for the tell-tale scrape of a chair being pulled back and Dan collapsing into it with a “humph.”

 Phil turned towards Dan and smiled at him reassuringly, being the new kid was hard enough Phil couldn’t imagine being late to a class on top of that, “Hi,” he whispered, taking the continued chatter of the class to mean Miss Mendie hadn’t resumed teaching.

“Hey,” Dan responded and Phil could hear the relieved smile in his voice, “seriously some of the teachers here can’t catch a hint fucking hell!”

Phil hummed in agreement as he twirled his pen in his fingers, unable to keep the relieved smile off his face that Dan was here, talking to him, “Who did you have?”

 Dan made a low groan noise that sent Phil into a fit of giggles, “Mr Marshall,” Phil snorted and he could feel Dan glaring at him, “Stop laughing he was so boring! Then he took me through everything you did this semester, as though I wasn’t at another school doing the same thing,” at this point Phil was laughing so hard he had to cover his face with his hand to hide his tongue poking through his teeth.

“Did he speak in third person?” Phil managed to get out between giggles, and Dan made a gagging noise in confirmation, Phil could imagine him pulling a face as he laughed.

There was a thump which Phil assumed was Dan’s head being smacked against the desk and a muffled, “Yes and it was so annoying, why does he do that?” Phil shrugged as Miss Mendie called the attention of the class back to her, sending Dan a smirk.

 There was something so fascinating about spending the class with Dan, listening to his sarcastic comments under his breath that Phil was certain he believed no one could hear. He also drummed his pens against his leg, a soft pitter patter that took Phil around fifteen minutes to identify. When the class came to a close Dan made an awkward coughing noise, his tone completely different to what Phil had been expecting. Instead of the loud brash, almost excited, sounding voice Phil had adjusted to, Dan sounded soft and nervous, “Hey…”

Phil looked in the direction of his voice, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, “What’s up?” He could hear Dan fidgeting, his feet scuffing the carpet floor backwards and forwards.

“Did I do something?” Dan asked eventually after a long silence, “Everytime I try to tell you something in class, you completely ignore me. I understand if you don’t like me, it’s fine, but can you just tell me?”

 Phil felt a pang of guilt as he listened to Dan, his voice was so small and insecure. He offered the boy a small smile and leaned down to his side, hand fumbling around for his cane, he could hear Dan start to walk away, clearly disappointed at his lack of response. With a click the cane flipped into its full length, revealing the long white stick that Phil used to navigate the school corridor. Phil frowned as Dan inhaled sharply and rapped the cane in the direction he heard the noise, he knew he hit his mark at the yelp Dan made in response.

“Don’t you dare feel guilty,” he stared at Dan pointedly, hoping he was glaring in the right direction.

 “Jeez I can tick that off the bucket list…” Dan murmured after a few seconds of awkward silence, Phil could hear the small smile returning to his voice.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and moved the cane to the ground, feeling around for the edges of chairs, “What?”

“Get hit by a blind person’s cane,” Dan joked and Phil grinned, shaking his head he began to walk out of the classroom. He mimed ticking the air and his grin widened even further as Dan let out a loud peal of laughter. “You still ok with me sitting with you?” He asked, Phil could hear him walking along beside him, books clunking in his arms.

“Duh,” Phil rolled his eyes with a smirk as Dan let out a small whoop.

 ~-~-~

 Dan could practically kick himself, it was so obvious! He watched as Phil’s cane glided along the hallway from side to side, informing him of potential threats and things to avoid. The way his eyes had quivered ever so slightly, always looking not quite at Dan exactly but slightly to the side, his lack of response when Dan didn’t say it verbally, he was so obviously blind that Dan felt like an absolute idiot. Admittedly Phil was the most upbeat person that Dan had ever met, his fun attitude and way he kept rapping Dan in the foot with his cane, was contagiously happy. He was clearly doing it on purpose, judging by the gleeful smile he had on his face. Dan shuffled along after Phil, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar halls as he followed the blind boy.

 “So this here,” Phil pointed at the large opening where hundreds of students were gathering outside, “is the lunch area, we all sit around and some weird people play sport,” he nodded his heads towards the group of students kicking a football around their circle.

Dan nodded, his mind running a thousand miles a minute, “What do you do at lunch?” he asked curiously.

 Students all around them were screaming and chatting, a group of boys all appeared to be working out together, winking at girls with every push up, Dan grimaced at the idea of it.

Phil shrugged, “Peej and I usually just talk, that’s my best friend by the way, he’s not here today. We sit over here, away from the football boys and the gym jerks.”

 Phil slid onto a bench, snapping his cane into a smaller, more efficient size and laying it by his feet. He then turned towards Dan, his eyes ever so slightly looking to the left, “Okay fire away,” he delivered in a practised bored tone, a small nervous quirk in the corner of his lips.

Dan felt confusion wash over him, and he very eloquently responded with, “Huh?”

Phil shrugged again, scratching the back of his neck, “This isn’t my first time,” Dan’s cheeks heated at the intimate wording, “Everyone has questions and I’d like to get them over with now so we can be normal friends,” Phil continued leaving Dan in shocked silence.

 “Oh… Were you born blind?” He finally asked, once the uncomfortable heaviness of the quiet seeped into him.

Phil shook his head, “I was in a bike accident when I was three, it destroyed my retinas and they couldn’t fix it,” Phil delivered the answer as though Dan had inquired about the weather, not his permanent vision loss, “I don’t remember a time where I wasn’t blind.”

“I’m so-” Dan begun, cutting off with a yelp as Phil kicked his leg out, striking him on the calf.

“Don’t apologise!” Phil glared at him, his striking blue eyes burning with stubbornness.

Dan shifted of the seat in discomfort, “right… Sorry,” he shuffled on the seat again as Phil chuckled at him.

 “I don’t want you to apologise, it's the person I’ve always been and I’m happy with who I am,” he shrugged, eyes downturned despite not having to deal with awkward eye contact.

“Right… sorry,” he smiled slightly, kicking his legs back and forward to stop himself from being nervous, “so what’s your best friend like?”

Phil snorted, rolling his eyes to the sky, “He’s a dick but he’s also the best. His name’s PJ, we’ve been friends since nursery.”

“Woah, so did he meet you when you… when there was… when you were-” Dan fumbled for words.

“When I was already blind?” Phil supplied, a knowing laugh in his expression, Dan scratched at his arm in embarrassment.

He nodded before remembering Phil couldn’t see that, “erm yeah?”

 Phil nodded, smirk still quirking his lips upward, “Yeah, but it never affected our friendship, that’s why we get along so well.” He seemed to say that pointedly, with the air of someone who had been disappointed by friends before, friends who treated him differently. Dan felt a surge of determination not to be like that. Phil was reeling Dan in, and he was okay with that.

“Well I don’t see why it should affect a friendship,” he said, and if his heart skipped a beat when Phil beamed at him, his whole face lighting up like a Christmas tree, he would never mention it.

 ~-~-~

 5 YEARS OLD

 Phil clung to the woman’s hand, it was sweaty and wrinkly, like the raisin his mum had found melting beside his bed because he hadn’t seen it. She had that same sickly sweet smell too, but Phil clung on anyway because he didn’t want to be left alone. He could hear the other kids shrieking with laughter and running around him, their feet making loud “boom boom” noises on the ground as they raced back and forth. He didn’t like school.

 “Come on Philip, you can let go of me, I’ll be right here,” the old lady told him again, at least Phil assumed she was old, her words whistled a bit when she said them. He could imagine a hunched over old woman like the witch his brother described to him, with her raisin skin covering her whole face. The thought made him smile a little, he wished Martyn was here now.

He shook his head sharply, clutching her hand even tighter, ignoring the ugly squelch noise it made when he did that.

Suddenly a young British accent spoke up, “Why’re you holding onto her hand?” the kid asked, Phil jumped a little in shock, turning his head to try to locate the noise, “I’m here,” the voice said again and Phil swivelled slightly to face them.

“I’m scared,” Phil explained, his voice small as he ducked his head down.

The small voice made a “hmmmm” noise which bounced up and down as though they was nodding their head furiously, “You don’t need to be scared anymore,” the voice said with purpose - Phil’s dad had used that word and Phil liked it - “because I’m your friend now!”

 There was a strange shuffle noise and then the kid said, “My name’s PJ!” there was a long pause that made Phil feel itchy and shy, before PJ spoke up again, “My mum said that when you hold your hand out people are meant to shake it, it’s how you make friends.”

Phil squeaked in fear as the old lady took her hand away from his and guided it towards a softer more squishy hand, the same size as his. PJ shook the hand and Phil smiled.

“This is Phil,” the lady said, she must’ve been telling PJ, “can I trust you to look after him?” Phil followed her voice and tried to hide the fear he was feeling, PJ let go of his hand and he felt lost. On an island in the middle of nowhere with nothing to show him where to go.

 He let out a sigh of relief when his cane was placed in his hand, the long familiar metal comforting, he placed the large rubber ball on the ground and used it to locate PJ.

“Woah,” the word stretched out like a rubber band, “what’s that?” PJ asked, he sounded excited and Phil shuffled his foot back and forth in embarrassment.

“I’m blind,” he mumbled and when PJ made a noise of confusion he added, “I can’t see anything.”

 Phil waited for the kid to run away, it had happened before, people who can’t see aren’t as much fun to play with. Instead PJ surprised him, one of the best surprises, like the bestest birthday present in the world, but not on his birthday, “That’s so cool!” PJ shrieked, making Phil jump backwards a little in shock, “You can’t see me at all?” Phil shook his head and PJ gasped in amazement, taking Phil’s hand in his, “That is actually awesome because that means I don’t have to play on the playground anymore, the playground is boring but you’re going to be my best friend.”

 Phil followed in awe, tapping his ball along the ground to warn him of any possible dangers, PJ didn’t stop talking informing him of every little thing he couldn’t see, “There’s Melanie, she has poofy red hair and it’s amazing, oh wait you don’t know colours ummmmm, well her hair is like the taste of strawberry.”

 ~-~-~

 PRESENT DAY

 Phil woke up to a loud banging on his door, he groaned and rolled over. The bangs formed a familiar pattern, PJ’s morning knock, Phil sighed heavily and smushed the pillow over his head. “Go away!” He yelled, the noise muffled by the cushion of the pillow.

He heard PJ snort, “Are you decent?” was the only response and Phil groaned again.

“I’m only wearing boxers but- and you opened the door” he sighed, pressing the pillow further into his face, “leave me be, I’m wallowing in my pain.”

 PJ laughed, leaping onto the bed and jostling his best friend, “Come on lazy pants, we’re going to be late again,” he said, very unsympathetically. Phil growled low in his throat and pulled the duvet over his head. PJ poked him in the side relentlessly, a cheeky laugh adorning his annoyance.

“Leave m’alone” he grumbled, voice scratchy and deep from sleepiness. PJ continued mashing his finger into Phil’s sensitive points, his stomach, neck, back, basically wherever could be accessed. Phil let out a loud huff, kicking his legs upward as he sat up, opening his eyes finally and mocking a loud gasp of shock, “Peej, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

 Peej sighed heavily in response, making Phil smirk at his joke, “Never gets old buddy, come on get ready, we’re gonna be late.” He shoved Phil off the bed, Phil stumbled slightly, reaching instinctively for his cane before pouting at his best friend.

“No really mate, I think you’re going grey, I can definitely see some grey hairs there.” Phil smiled to himself as he finally managed to coax a laugh out of PJ. He ran his hand along the clothes, feeling for the familiar scratchy material of his uniform.

 PJ flopped back on the bed, creating a whoomph sound, “Have you looked in the mirror recently?” Phil laughed, finally pulling his uniform out of the closet.

“Alright get out of here, you dick,” he waited until PJ closed the door behind himself with a clunk before he stripped off his pajama pants.

 Almost twenty minutes later Phil slid into PJ’s car, folding his cane as he buckled the seatbelt, “We’re going to get there right on time,” PJ huffed, the car shifting into drive with a groan of pain. Phil shrugged, pretending to look out the window with an air of nonchalance.

“You’re trying to look all cool and mysterious but you’re not turning your head enough so you’re just staring at the wall of the car,” PJ snickered, “So what happened when I was away yesterday?”

Phil sighed returning his head to the direction of his friend with a grin, “I made a friend!”

PJ made a strangled disbelieving noise, his hand flicking the indicator, “We’re pulling into the carpark,” he dictated, after thirteen years together he knew his best friend well, “no way, I don’t believe you.”

 “I did!” Phil gasped at the insinuation he couldn’t make friends, holding a hand to his heart as though he had been shot, “How dare you! I made friends with you didn’t I?” He pointed out and frowned at Peej’s snort of laughter as the car chugged to a heavy stop, “You need a new car,” he added while feeling for his seatbelt.

“First of all, how dare you Betty is the best thing in my life. Secondly, sure when we were five, and technically I adopted the sad, blind, kid.” The door slammed shut as PJ exited the vehicle, Phil pulled a face before following.

 “You didn’t adopt me, and I did make a friend, his name is Dan,” they marched into the school, the bell echoing around their heads.

PJ made an impressed noise, taking Phil by the elbow, “Come on slowpoke, if we don’t get moving we’re gonna be even later,” he pulled them forward and around the halls.

 ~-~-~

 Dan tapped his pen against his leg methodically, his palms slick with sweat, as his eyes scanned for Phil. He had seen him earlier, being tugged along by a dark haired boy with an uncanny resemblance to Dan himself, albeit more tan. They had marched past and seeing the boy, obviously PJ, Dan had frozen in fear, unable to speak up. He was semi grateful that Phil himself was blind and therefore hadn’t seen him, Dan the deer, staring into the headlights with statue like shock. What if PJ didn’t like him? Phil was, something else entirely, his own category of perfect.

 Dan stifled thoughts of soft dark hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and a blinding bright smile. It wasn’t the first time Dan had gotten a crush, definitely not the first boy either, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow it to progress. Phil was his only friend in this school, hell, in this town, he wasn’t throwing that away with a stupid crush, no matter how beautiful he was, so very very beautiful… He shook his head to regain his thoughts, returning his eyes to their mission of locating Phil. He knew if he wanted to keep sitting with his friend this lunch he would need to spot him himself.

 His eyes finally snapped on familiar dark hair and pale skin, Dan felt his heart tug towards him and he felt the urge to punch it, no feelings, he chastised.

“Hi Phil!” He called out as he jogged over, a pang of joy buzzing through him as Phil turned towards him with a bright grin, sightless eyes staring just slightly over his shoulder. PJ stared at him with an expression Dan struggled to read, it seemed to flicker between surprise, wariness, analytical and excitement.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed, his arm grappling behind him before gripping onto PJ and tugging him forward, Dan almost laughed at the shock on PJ’s face, but didn’t want to make that his first impression on the boy, “This is PJ, the best friend I was talking about,” Phil introduced.

 PJ turned to Phil with a laugh, “We’re best friends? How’d I get stuck with you?” He teased, eyes glinting mischievously, Phil rolled his eyes, shoving PJ in the arm.

“Shut up you dick and meet our new friend,” suddenly Phil’s eyes darted over to Dan nervously, “you do want to be our friend right? I didn’t read this wrong? I do that sometimes and I-” Dan cut him off.

“Stop, yes I want to be your friend, I would… I would love it,” he tugged on his arm and stared at Phil and then PJ who was staring at him with that same expression. He stuck out his hand towards PJ, “I’m Dan.”

 PJ’s expression softened slightly, although he still looked as though he was scanning Dan, picking apart the different fidgets and quirks of his soul, from the small curl that circled his ear, to the way his teeth were toying with his lip. Finally he took Dan’s hand, a smirk quirking at his lips, “PJ,” he said simply. Phil furrowed his eyebrows in PJ’s general direction - off by a few centimetres - before turning to Dan.

“So you happy to sit with us?” Dan made a humming noise of agreement, “Awesome! I just need to duck to the bathroom, I’ll meet up with you guys in a second,” he walked away, cane gliding along the ground and smile lighting up the corridor.

 Dan only realised he was staring after him when PJ coughed, an amused smile pulling at his cheeks, “You ‘right there?” he asked, the smile turning more into a smirk as Dan’s cheeks flared up.

“Wha- yeah, yeah… I’m, I’m fine pfft I don’t know what… what, you’re talking about?” He stumbled over the words, tripping and slipping on them like a giraffe in the rainforest. PJ laughed softly, beckoning for Dan to follow him.

He had this aura around him that screamed, ‘don’t fuck with me but also dork is my middle name’, which was honestly more intimidating than a normal don’t fuck with me kind of guy.

 “Now,” PJ begun and Dan scrambled to fall in pace with him, “Phil can hold his own, he may be blind but that doesn’t stop him being the greatest guy ever. He deserves real friends, and he seems to like you,” Dan blushed further at that, PJ raised an eyebrow knowingly, “and from what I can tell you like him too. So don’t be a dick basically,” he summed up, falling down on the same bench Dan and Phil had sat at the day prior.

 Dan nodded, avoiding eye contact, “I won’t, I really like Phil,” PJ was staring at him, Dan could feel his eyes burning into the top of his head.

“Alright then, now you should know that I am basically Phil’s eyes, any faces you pull at him, any crazy bed head, I’ll let him know.”

Dan nodded in understanding, his fingers toying with a piece of string hanging off his uniform, “I’m not going to take advantage of him in any way,” he promised. PJ smiled brightly, any intimidating factor he might have had gone and replaced with a cheeky eyebrow raise, “also just because Phil’s blind doesn’t mean I can’t see you goggling,” he teased, leaning back as Phil made his way over, chatting to people politely, but Dan could see the uncomfortable wall he put forward, like a line of defence that he had never shown around Dan.

 “Erm no thanks Emily, my taste isn’t exclusively blind people you know?” Phil chuckled awkwardly, chewing on the side of his mouth visibly. The girl, Emily Dan guessed, shrugged carelessly her blonde bob bouncing around her shoulders.

“If you say so!” She chirped cheerily, “Let me know if you change your mind!” Phil nodded, his face screwed up in discomfort as he continued walking towards Dan and PJ.

 PJ sighed, rolling his eyes, “Emily at it again? Watch the rock,” He instructed as Phil’s cane swept past a rock unknowingly, Dan watched the two friends curiously. They had a natural comfort with each other, leaning into the familiarity like they had been doing it their whole life, and Dan supposed, they had. Phil sidestepped the rock with a clear trust, and shrugged, “She doesn’t seem to get that I don’t want to date her cousin,” he smiled in Dan’s general direction, “You’ll meet Emily eventually, she has a desperation to match everyone up and she’s decided her blind cousin is perfect for me. I’ve never even met the girl, not to mention she’s a girl,” he turned back to PJ at the end, clearly this was a discussion they had had many times before, judging by PJ’s knowing snort.

 “You’re not ready to start seeing all the ladies Philly?” PJ teased, Dan froze in shock, turning to watch Phil’s reaction. There was a pause, before Phil groaned, throwing his head back and allowing the groan to morph into laughter.

“Yeah I don’t know they just don’t really catch my eye,” he grinned, clearly proud of himself for the guffaw of laughter that erupted from PJ.

He nodded proudly, a smirk twisting his mouth, “Nice one mate,” Dan was aware of his mouth hanging open in surprised laughter. He knew Phil was comfortable with his blindness, but he hadn’t realised PJ and him joked about it so openly.

 Phil seemed to remember Dan was there and turned towards him, face still scrunched up with laughter and a hint of tongue poking through his teeth. A breath of air whooshed through him, swooping through his stomach and up into his chest, tingling like a soft drink had replaced his blood but warm like coffee. One thought pulsed in his mind, sending the blood in his veins pumping until it rushed in his ears.

 Shit I have a crush on Phil.

 ~-~-~

 Phil leaned over to PJ, the class chattered away around them, supposedly doing private study but for all Phil could hear it wasn’t likely. He tapped the table to get his friend’s attention, struggling to judge the gap between their two heads.

“What’s up?” Peej asked, Phil could hear his pen still scratching away at the paper, making notes for the lesson.

He wiggled his eyebrows, nudging PJ’s shoulder, “What’s he look like?” he could hear PJ snicker under his breath, this was a well rehearsed conversation they had every time Phil met someone particularly interesting.

“Who?” PJ asked with an faux innocence, Phil could practically see the laugh twisting his mouth. He groaned, nudging PJ with his side and snickering at the insulted gasp his best friend let out in response.

“Dan!” He hissed, raising his eyebrows to accentuate the point and making a big show of pretending to look around to check for eavesdroppers, “Is he as cute as he sounds?”

 PJ was still laughing under his breath but Phil hurt the pencil clatter to the table so he knew he had won, “Yes he’s got curly brown hair that perfectly shapes his face, like seriously he’s exactly your type, perfect hair for curling through your fingers,” Phil felt his cheeks warm as PJ nudged him in the side knowingly. He was trying to deny the crush that was already developing on Dan, but it was hard when he was just so funny, Phil felt his whole body relax whenever he was around him, like Dan contained a soothing presence in his voice. PJ knew him better than anyone in the world, he knew exactly what Phil liked in a person.

“He has a really sharp jawline like damn,” PJ continued, Phil could hear his knowing smile, he was aware of the way Phil’s heart skipped at that knowledge.

 “So essentially he’s perfect?” Phil sighed, slumping forward in his seat until his chin was resting on his hands. PJ huffed a laugh and Phil felt his hand pat Phil on the shoulder.

There was a pause before PJ said, “In terms of your type, yeah mate he’s perfect.”

Phil groaned in defeat, “I really like him,” he jutted out his bottom lip, “He’s so funny and easy to be around. It’s only been a day of knowing him, am I too cheesy?”

“Stop spiralling,” PJ commanded, flicking Phil on the ear to stop the thoughts, “Dan seems like a nice person,” a smirk made its way into PJ’s voice, “Why don’t you ask him to the formal?”

 Phil gaped at his best friend, or at least he let his mouth hang open in plain sight, "Ask him to formal?" He confirmed and at PJ's hum let out a guffaw of laughter, "Are you completely mad?" At PJ's lack of response he plowed onwards, "Not only does that set me up for potential and likely rejection, but I could lose the second true friend I've made in my entire life!" He realised he was shouting and lowered his voice, "I like Dan..."

PJ sighed heavily, the noise was loud and laced with an assumed slump of the shoulders, "I think he likes you too Phil, not just as a friend either. You can't see it, but you're an attractive dude and Dan looks like he is interested."

 Phil allowed this information to seep into his skin, he didn't want to get his hopes up but at the same time, that little shred of hope was tickling its way into his heart. There was just one problem, "He's probably straight," Phil groaned.

PJ laughed loudly, a proper heavy spout of laughter which caused murmurs throughout the rest of the class and forced Phil to look up from where he had slumped into his hands.

"He isn't straight buddy," Peej assured him, laughter still weaving its way through his words, "He is so definitely not straight."

 So maybe he had a chance? The idea was almost two nice to imagine.

 ~-~-~

 Dan found himself staring at Phil far more than he should be, his eyes seemed to be constantly drawn to the black haired boy. Especially his eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that couldn't see him staring, except PJ could and Dan was almost positive he was smirking at him. He drew his eyes back to his lunch with great difficulty, it was as though they were glued to Phil.

 "I'm going to go get a drink," PJ informed the two, Dan had begun to pick up on this habit of announcing his doings so Phil never had to guess. Nothing to do with Phil's blindness was ever a big thing, it was always just slipped into conversation as a joke, or little actions that Dan and PJ would complete to make things easier.

 If Dan was honest he was a little bit jealous of how at ease together PJ and Phil were, he was desperate to have that kind of ease and relaxation with another person. They just had this natural rhythm that they followed. Dan had noticed PJ describing funny situations that he was watching, Phil nodding along in amusement, it wasn't something either of them mentioned or talked about, but it happened all the same.

"So Dan..." Phil mumbled, Dan turned to him in surprise, Phil looked shy. His head was turned downwards towards the ground, as though he was trying to use it to gather courage, and his eyebrows were knitted in focus.

When Phil didn't continue his sentence Dan spoke up, "Yes?" he prompted.

 Phil's mouth opened and closed nervously and Dan realised he was probably staring at his lips a little too much, he diverted his attention to his eyes - which probably wasn't much better.Phil mumbled something so quietly Dan only heard a hum of noise, "Pardon?" He asked and smiled as his friend's cheeks turned an adorable shade of red. Could Phil be called just a friend in his mind? None of his friends made him as flustered as Phil did.

He was thrown out of this train of thought by Phil repeating his question a little louder, "Do you want to go to formal with me?"

 The world seemed to screech to a stop, "As a friend?" He asked to confirm, Phil looked even more embarrassed now, his cheeks were so red he could rival a tomato.

"It could be more than that... if you wanted I mean?"

This couldn’t be real, Dan could barely allow himself to even humour the situation, he must be dreaming, or misunderstanding. They’ve only been friends for a couple of weeks, and sure Dan had developed a crush on Phil almost instantaneously but that was irrelevant. There was no way Phil would do the same for Dan, not when Dan’s personality was so, well, lacking.

 “Uh sorry, have I read this situation wrong?” Dan snapped out of his shocked state by Phil speaking again. He was shuffling from foot to foot, unseeing eyes downturned and embarrassed.

Dan stumbled over his words hurriedly, “No ah sorry I just- I just got shocked u-um,” he hesitated, unsure whether he was understanding what Phil meant correctly [CONT’ LATER]

 ~-~-~

 Phil sat in the change room, brushing his feet backwards and forwards along the carpet, his sneakers trying to grip as he tried to relieve some awkardness.

“Okay so we want matching but not too matching?” Dan confirmed as he re-entered the change room, Phil listened as the curtain swished open and then closed again.

He nodded in confirmation, smiling softly as at least four hangers clinked onto the rack.

“Close your eyes,” Dan mumbled, and if the rustling of material was anything to go by he was taking off his shirt.

Phil let out a loud bark of laughter, “Seems unnecessary,” he smirked and relished in the sound of Dan’s bubbly laugh, despite being muffled from the inside of a shirt.

 Phil closed his eyes anyway as his… friend? Boyfriend? As Dan emerged from the depths of his shirt, “It feels weird either way,” he pointed out and Phil shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” he replied easily, pretending that if he couldn’t see the blush steadily rising up his face then Dan couldn’t either; he shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful Dan probably looked. No, he wasn’t thinking about it, yes that should work.

 “Okay so it fits me nicely but I think it’s a weird colour?” Dan mused, his feet scuffing the carpet as he turned from side to side, “It’s like a blue-ish grey, probably would suit you more.”

Phil hummed in response, opening his eyes to more black, “What did you get as the matching one?” Dan shuffled around, clicking the hangers together as he moved the other suits out of the way.

“It’s a darker blue, with grey highlights,” he told Phil.

 Phil hummed in thought, taking the suit from Dan’s long fingers and holding it against his body, turning to show Dan the colouring, “You like?”

There was a strange hiccup noise, in between a gasp and a cough, “I like… um uh yeah I like very much,” Dan mumbled, Phil could practically hear the blush echoing through his words. He smirked and swished his hips slightly just to listen to the catch in Dan’s breath.

“Mmm okay sounds good,” he shooed Dan out of the room while he undid the buttons on the linen shirt, “I’ll try it on and show you,” he explained at Dan’s noises of protest.

 From outside the curtain he could hear Dan grumble, “Why did you get to stay in the room?”

Phil snorted as he poked his head through the collar of the shirt, rolling his unseeing eyes to himself, “Because I can’t see you,” he offered and Dan huffed, trying to sound annoyed, but Phil could hear him chuckling.

Once he had fully dressed he stepped out of the change room with a flourish of his arms, throwing his head back dramatically. His smile widened further as he listened to the surprised bark of laughter Dan made at his antics.

 “That really suits you,” Dan said softly, like he was speaking through a gasp, and then there was a pause before he snickered and mumbled, “suits you.”

Phil groaned, smacking Dan gently and rolling his eyes yet again, “That’s awful, never speak to me again.”

Just at that moment a pair of heels clacked into the room and Phil heard Dan swivel to face whoever was entering.

 “Are you boys alright in here?” Someone asked; who Phil assumed was a shop assistant, “Those suits look amazing on you, are you trying to match your dates?”

The air seemed to be electrocuted with uncomfortable energy, “Uh,” was Dan’s eloquent response. Phil scratched at his neck awkwardly, he could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks.

How could they answer that question? Dan wasn’t his boyfriend or anything, if anything this suit shopping was a first date, a trial run, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable Dan was with being gay. Whether he felt safe enough to tell strangers or not, Phil certainly preferred to keep it to himself where possible.

 Finally Dan spoke up with the most reasonable answer, “Yeah but these ones are perfect so we don’t need any help,” he sounded confident but Phil had a feeling that was an act. Was the hitch mid sentence just Phil’s imagination?

“Oh alright,” the assistant sounded almost disappointed but her shoes click clacked out of the room either way.

As soon as she rounded the corner Phil heard Dan dissolve into laughter, it escaped his mouth in loud wheezes, “That was perfect,” he snickered until Phil couldn’t help but laugh with him.

 ~-~-~

 Dan pulled at the collar of his shirt, he squinted at himself in the mirror and shuffled the jacket around until it was a semblance of smooth; or rather slightly less wrinkled than before. His curly hair was slightly tamed into a fringe across his pale forehead. He certainly didn’t look bad.

But will Phil agree? His mind supplied.

 “It doesn’t matter what I look like Phil can’t see it anyway,” he chastised his brain and fiddled with his hair a little more. Two raps on the frame of his door alerted Dan to his father’s presence before he was entering the room with a good humoured chuckle, “Stop fussing with your hair it looks great,” He instructed, pulling Dan’s wrist away so his hand was no longer mussing with the fringe.

Dan pouted at his dad and shifted on his toes nervously, “Do I look okay?”

 His dad smiled proudly at him, straightening the suit so it sat nicer across Dan’s shoulders, “You look amazing,” he replied, genuine kindness laced through his words, “Now let’s get going before you’re late.”

 The venue was incredible, how their school had managed to book a place like this was beyond Dan. Nothing was more amazing than Phil in that suit they picked though, he was standing with PJ, quiff too perfectly done to have been executed by the dark haired boy. They were laughing and Dan felt his heart skip two beats as Phil stuck his tongue between his teeth, blue eyes glinting and standing out against the grey colour of the suit.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the two boys, raising his hand to wave at them and grinning when PJ locked eye contact with him. He mumbled something to Phil and then Dan had that blinding smile facing him (almost facing him anyway).

 “Hi,” Dan mumbled as he reached them, feeling a blush seep across his face as Phil intertwined their fingers with an enchanting smile.

PJ nodded with a smirk, “Hi dude,” he offered a one handed salute of greeting, “How’re you doing?”

Dan shrugged, squeezing Phil’s hand a little tighter, “I’m good,” he replied before correcting himself, “Excited.”

 Phil tugged his hand gently to get Dan’s attention, Dan blushed heavier to find those unseeing blue eyes already looking at him, “It’s going to be okay,” Phil reassured him.

“I know,” Dan smiled back, stepping a little bit closer.

 They walked in as a group when PJ’s date arrived, the inside of the ballroom was even more lavish than the exterior. The tall ceiling decorated with cherubs and flower petals, hundreds of students from their school danced across the white polished floor.

 He found himself describing the room to Phi in all its’ glory as they walked in, it wasn’t even something he thought about anymore; only realising he was doing it when PJ smiled gratefully at him. He could almost imagine Peej handing him the final key, full trust of Dan to look after Phil, and that Phil would be there for him in return.

He smiled to himself, hoping Phil didn’t notice the slight stutter in his words as he thought about asking Phil to be his boyfriend

 ~-~-~

 The night had been going incredibly, Phil couldn’t help but feel relaxed and safe with Dan. He wasn’t usually a massive fan of social gatherings like formals, because he felt guilty for keeping PJ from socialising. Dan was different, he didn’t really want to spend time with anyone else, he seemed content laughing and dragging Phil all around the room. Describing the horrific suits and dresses some of their classmates were wearing, telling Phil about the few successful fashion choices.

 At some point they had made their way to a photo-booth, which was a total disaster but Dan had made this adorably soft gasp when he saw the photos and murmured, “We look really cute together,” so that was worth it.

After four hours they were huddled in the corner of the room, Dan was counting how many girls had taken their shoes off, cuddled into Phil’s chest and tracing circles on his knee.

 “Be my boyfriend?” Phil blurted out, he felt Dan still on his lap, muscles tensing. A wave of regret washed over him, he was too sudden, Dan wasn’t ready, he was a disaster-

His train of thought was cut off by soft, chapped lips pressing against his temple and a soft voice whispering, “Yes please.”

Phil turned his head until he was sure he was facing Dan, “Okay,” he grinned, excitement tingling in his veins and cheeks flushed with nerves.

“Can I kiss you?” Dan asked, and Phil’s cheeks burned further still, he had to hope that Dan was just as flushed as he was.

 “Yes please,” Phil replied, echoing Dan’s earlier sentiment , it felt like they were in a tiny bubble, the noise of their classmates and the music playing through the venue faded away as a gentle hand cupped Phil’s cheek. He felt those same lips press to his so gently it was like a feather brushing against them, he pushed forward, slotting them together until they were pushing and pulling together. Soft presses, harder, drawn out, sharp, the feeling left him dizzy and elated. They kissed until both of them were blinded with love.