#we were all in the uni flat together but this is different. its a proper house

[immortalsins]

on a positive note it's the first night in my uni house with all 6 friends here, i'm so excited to spend the next 2 years cooking next to each other and filling the kettle for all of us and deciding which hand soap to get for the bathrooms and asking if we've locked the front door and checking the water meter it's going to be so much fun

[unchartedthelostlegacy]

Chlodineweek Day 3: Reunion

It was good that Windows XP somehow didn’t notice that she had already failed at entering the correct password five times. 

Chloe gritted her teeth and glared back down at the keys, and began to peck at them one at a time like they were the platforms she’d jumped across in the axe fortress.

Tommyiscute2003.

Wrong.

TommyIhateyou03.

Wrong.

“How important is this?” Nadine called from Chloe’s childhood bed. She was flipping through an ancient Shonen Jump.

“Oh, don’t even start.”

“Why can’t you access it on your phone?”

Chloe touched her lips. “I think I wrote it...in my diary.”

“Frazer, let’s look at the Neopets on your phone and be done with it. You know they’re all dead anyway.”

Her casual tone made Chloe bristle all over again. She didn’t even remember what had started the argument. It had to have been something about Nathan Drake. Their entire trip back home to Chloe’s mum’s house in Australia’s capital had been peppered with back-and-forth character assassination focused on which of them had neglected and starved her Neopets more.

“You’re going to be dead before my Neopets are,” Chloe retorted, pushing back her hair, and noticing Nadine had slid off the twin bed and was rooting around in the drawers. “Excuse me, I didn’t give you permission to--”

“Find this?” Nadine tossed a book at her.

Chloe recognized it the moment it hit her hands. A pink-and-blue diary with a cute lock on the cover.

“I’m assuming you still have the key, Frazer?”

“Oh give me all of three seconds,” Chloe said with a chuckle, sitting and pulling the lockpick from her hair. “These are never--” click. “Here we go. Ah, it’ll be on the last page...I think.”

Nadine had rested her arm across the chair and around Chloe’s shoulders. “What’s that drawing?”

“That is me.”

Nadine’s laughter was scoffing. “And--and the hair?”

“That’s what I looked like,” Chloe paged away from the emo self portrait. “Makeup and all.”

“Oh, that hasn’t changed.”

“Very funny.”

Nadine leaned forward. “Who’s this Tommy you mention on every page?”

“You can actually read that? I’m impressed. I definitely have better handwriting now--”

“Chloe?’

Somehow, they hadn’t noticed footsteps on the stairs and down the hallway, but the click of the door made them both jump.

Chloe’s mother walked in, holding some mail, and blinked. Why would they have a guilty conscience now? Why did it feel like they’d been interrupted in something important and bad?

They were only two grown adults trying to break into an ancient computer because Neopets wasn’t mobile-optimized, after all. Chloe wanted to hiss to Nadine that her job was the lookout, but Nadine looked more terrified than Chloe had ever seen her; she had just about hopped back from the chair.

“Something came for you,” Leah Frazer said.

“I...see that,” Chloe said, hand going to her hair. “You can leave it, mummy.”

“Think it’s from your school.”

“From...which school?”

Leah shrugged her shoulders. “The uni you never went to? It’s from Tim M. Pierce High.”

And she wonders why I never visit. Chloe stood, pushing her hand through her loose, damp hair one last time, reaching out for the envelope with the familiar emblem in the corner.

She’d worn it on her silly skirt-and-polo uniform all those years ago, fighting its conformity with home-dyed streaks in her sharply cut hair and her eyeliner even more intense than she wore now. She might have switched it up with novelty contact lenses sometimes too--she wasn’t proud of that--but she could stop a black-pentagon-bedecked ball with one black-nailed hand and aced all her history tests.

Yes, Chloe remembered Tim M. Pierce, and she also remembered opting out of another few years of being treated like she was weird and dumb.

“Are they...asking for donations? Or something?”

“I think it’s an invitation,” Chloe’s mother said. “Might be having the reunion soon.”

“The reunion,” Chloe said, as if the word was foreign to her.

“Nice timing, isn’t it? You being back for the first time in forever. You could go.”

Chloe breathed out sharply through her nose as her mother closed the door and her footsteps paced back down the hall.

Nadine leapt in front of her. “Let’s go to a hotel, ja?”

“Are you scared of her, love? She’s not going to kill us.”

Nadine shook her head so emphatically Chloe actually had to look up from turning the envelope around in her hand. “She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t like me here.”

It took a long, embarrassing moment for Chloe to even pick up on what she meant.

“Oh. No, no,” Chloe laughed, waving her hand and turning back. “No, she’s mad at me, honey. Because I haven’t been in awhile and--”

“Frazer--”

“Nadine this is my mother. She doesn’t even know--no. She had--you’ve misjudged her.”

Nadine said, flatly, “I’ll find one myself.”

“Nadine, she’s not like that. She’s just snappy. I--I get it from her,” Chloe said, sitting back down. “Where were we? Oh yes, let’s find the password.”

“You didn’t even call ahead to tell her we were coming?”

Chloe felt the nerves in Nadine’s voice, but she also felt sick that her mother had inadvertently upset her. “I’ll talk to her, Nadine. I’ll tell her to--”

“No, no, no!” Nadine was really losing it, wasn’t she, wandering around the emo-band-poster-walled fortress with her face in her hands. “Don’t say it. Don’t say I told you to--that she--”

“Was making my partner uncomfortable?”

“Ja, that’s what you don’t tell her. Do not tell her that.”

“Oh relax,” Chloe said. “Between you and Nate, she’d throw him out of the house first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That she judges character. Well. About that. You wanted to know about Tommy?” Chloe held out the open journal, showing a double-page spread of a crude drawing of a boy and her very impractically dressed self, holding hands. “He was my widdle baby crush. Mum didn’t like him.”

“Was he the psychopath type you always go for?”

Chloe laughed. “He was a good student. Squeaky-clean. She still hated the sight of him.”

“Ja, your drawing doesn’t really sell him either.”

Chloe returned fire by throwing the entire journal back at Nadine, who snatched it out of the air and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, glancing back at the door. Chloe turned back to the keyboard and typed the password that had been scrawled beneath the drawing:

ChloeAndTom4ever.

“Open sesame,” she said, as the startup noise pinged and the cursor did its loading animation.

“You think he’ll be at the reunion?” Nadine said.

“Oh, who goes to those? Did you go to yours?”

“My schools didn’t have them.”

“Well,” Chloe chuckled, but it was flat, nervous, “I didn’t enjoy my time at school, and I don’t see why I would want to be reminded.”

“Maybe he’s still single.”

“I doubt it. He’s balding and divorced, Nadine, one hundred percent. Crushes in your teen years do not hold up. Ah, here. Just...click on internet explorer...”

“God this is ancient,” Nadine muttered, having come over to hover at Chloe’s shoulder again. “Does it even have an antivirus?”

Chloe hovered the mouse over the taskbar. “McAfee.”

“Oh,” Nadine said. “Then, no.”

“I used the same password for Neopets! Let’s see. Oh. Well, the map is different. Didn’t it use to have Mcdonalds?”

Nadine bumped her arm. “I thought you called it Maccas or something here?”

Chloe squinted at her and said, “‘Didn’t it use to have Maccas?’”

Nadine’s laugh was worth it, even as Chloe reached up and gave her a poke in her stomach. Nadine held her stomach and flopped back on the bed. Chloe loved Nadine’s laugh to pieces, loved how it completely overcame her.

“See? My Neopets are all here. Nadine, pull yourself together!”

Nadine did, eventually, and came over to peer at the screen, at Chloe’s five Kaus and two Kougras of varying shades. “Starving. Starving. Starving,” Nadine recited, hovering the mouse over all of them. “Great parenting, Frazer.”

“All right, but they’re not dead, are they? I’ll just go get a free omelet and feed them now,” Chloe said.

“They’re not even wearing any clothes.”

“They’re animals, silly. They don’t wear clothes.”

Nadine snapped, “Let me log in.”

And Chloe had to stare at four perfectly dressed Mynci. Skirts, hats, entire outfits. And they were all fed.

“Someone,” Chloe said darkly, standing and grabbing Nadine’s shoulders, “Waited for me to fall asleep on the plane and logged into her account on the sly--”

“Or maybe I’m just proper at Neopets, Frazer?”

Nadine grappled her back, and they fell onto the twin mattress, giggling and slapping at each other.

“You didn’t even know they could wear clothes. All of them can wear any clothes--” Nadine was saying, as Chloe shook her by the shoulders, “not like those MMO’s that gender-lock everything--oh shit it’s your mum again--”

Nadine said the last few words lightning-fast, trying to separate from Chloe, who only grabbed her tighter, and they both tumbled to the carpet as Leah Frazer walked in.

“What are you doing. Chloe, I swear to God,” the woman said, setting a pitcher of lemonade down by the computer with two glasses. “Stop hitting Ms. Ross. You never grew up.”

“We weren’t fighting.”

“Oh come off it,” she said. “And get these posters off the walls. It feels like these freaks are about to stab me every time I walk in here.”

“You could have taken them off,” Chloe said, struggling to keep Nadine pinned to the fluffy floor. “Could have made it a nice guest room, chucked all my stuff in the bin--”

“So dramatic,” Leah said, taking her elbow and forcefully pulling her off Nadine. “And immature. Where did you get these cuts?”

She looked at Nadine too, taking her wrist, searching for the scabs that hadn’t quite healed off in the week or two since the end of their adventure in India. Nadine had treated hers, but Chloe’s definitely had worsened. “What were you doing there?”

“Mum, you remember how it was, the mosquitos--” Chloe said.

“Tree branches,” Nadine said tightly.

“--hiking is a--a contact sport--”

“You’re both lying,” Chloe’s mum said. “And to think you brushed it off when I told you about that insurrection. I was watching the news getting worse and worse and you didn’t even call to let me know you were all right, Chloe Frazer.”

The woman headed back to the door, but remembered something, as parents will after having already scolded you, and turned back. “Maybe you can show those photos at the reunion. They’re gorgeous.”

“Mum, I told you, nobody there was on my wavelength.”

Nadine burst out laughing.

A very rare smile came to Leah Frazer’s face. “Well, they usually allow a plus-one...”

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

Previous

Thank you all for reading.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge - she’s a great beta.

Thanks also to @happytoobservenolongerdistant

Chapter 4: Walk On By

If you see me walking down the street And I start to cry each time we meet Walk on by, walk on by

Burt Bacharach/ Hal David

Claire sipped her coffee and looked contentedly around the living room. She couldn't quite believe she had moved in only ten days ago. It felt like she had lived here for ages. Having furniture from the house probably helped, she reasoned, although she wasn’t sure what would happen when Lamb returned there in two years time. Would he expect the furniture to be returned? And would he expect her to be ‘returned’ too? Now that she had finally made the move, she doubted she would ever return to live there.

She had definitely fallen lucky with this flat… and with her neighbours. Mrs. Crook was as sweet and kind as Anna and Mary had said. Ten days in and Claire had already been the recipient of an apple turnover, a steak and kidney pie and half a dozen scones.

And, even in this short time, she had grown fond of Anna and Mary. Anna worked in marketing at the King’s Theatre whilst Mary was an accountant in the local tax office. They seemed very different; Anna was very outgoing and vivacious with a wide circle of friends, always heading out to parties or social functions whilst Mary was quieter and more reserved. And yet, they lived together very amicably -- their characters complementing each other’s.

Then last night, Claire had finally met John, who worked as a book editor for a publishing house. Their exchange had been brief. Claire was just coming in the front door after a long day at the hospital, whilst John was on his way out for some evening's entertainment, elegantly dressed and smelling divine. He kissed her warmly on both cheeks before continuing out of the door, calling assurances that they would indeed meet very soon for a ‘proper welcome to the building’.

Claire glanced at her watch and, suddenly realising the time, rushed into her kitchen, pulled a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge and made her way across the landing to Mary and Anna’s flat.

The door to their flat was already ajar. Claire knocked and walked in. Mary and Anna were sitting in the living room, full wine glasses in hand.

“Hi, Claire. You want a drink before we go out?” Mary made to stand up.

Claire motioned her to sit. “Yes, great. Don’t get up, I’ll get it myself. And I’ll pop this one in your fridge.”

From the kitchen, Claire heard the front door open again, followed by John’s voice greeting the girls.

“Mary... lovely, my dear. Anna… as glamorous as ever. I hope you don’t mind if an old friend joins us for dinner, do you? I hadn’t seen him since uni, twelve years ago and we reconnected at a reunion-type thing this week.”

Claire took a sip from her glass as she wandered back into the living room.

“So, this is Jamie…”

The thump of Claire’s wine glass as it hit the carpet interrupted John’s introductions. She immediately bent down to retrieve it before rushing to the kitchen for a cloth. Her cheeks burning, she leant against a countertop and stood still for a minute, trying to calm her breathing.

From her initial glance, he hadn’t changed that much in eight years. His hair was shorter. No longer touching his shoulders, it was barely long enough to curl. His shoulders were a bit broader too, clad in one of those flannel checked shirts he was always so fond of. She hadn’t dared to focus on his face… or his left hand.

She could hear John’s introductions continuing. And then he spoke. That soft Highland burr seemingly unaltered by the years in America. He spoke a low tone, too low for Claire to hear, his utterances drawing laughter from Anna and Mary.

“I’ll just see if Claire needs a hand.” Mary’s voice rose above the laughter, causing Claire to abruptly grab a dishcloth and hurry back into the living room.

“I’m so sorry, Mary, Anna. The glass just slipped from my hand… must be my hand cream… not rubbed in properly…” Claire’s nervous rambling finally ground to a halt.

“Don’t worry, this carpet’s seen far worse than a drop of wine.” Mary took the cloth and dabbed at the small patch of damp next to her. “You just sit down Claire.”

Claire perched on the edge of the sofa obediently.

“And here we have the newest inmate in our building… Claire Beauchamp… Jamie Fraser.” John was determined to finish. “Claire’s another damn Sasse…”

“Hello.” Claire broke into John’s introductions, finally glancing up at Jamie.

With a curt ‘hi’, Jamie nodded his head in response.

“So, Jamie, you joining us for dinner, then? We’ve got a table at the ‘Star of India’. You like Indian food?” Anna turned her full attention to Jamie.

“Aye, I’ll be happy tae join ye if ye dinna mind. Indian’s one of ma favourites.”

******

Nine years ago

“Ye ken, Sassenach, when ye said ye were takin’ me out fer a meal, I dinna imagine this… er… place.”

“Oh, what did you imagine?”

“Och, I dinna ken… somewhere with wee flowers, candles, soft music, tablecloths and a glass or two of wine. No’ these bench tables, beer from the bottle…”

“I love the food here. It’s my favourite. What are you going to order?”

“Chicken Korma, or do they do an omelette?”

“Jamie, do you not like Indian food?”

“Honesty, is it? I canna say I do.”

“Let me order for you. I’m sure you’ll love it. But if you don’t like it I promise we don’t have to come here again. I’ll get my curry fix when you’re not around.”

“Is that a threat there, Sassenach? Because, let me tell ye, I plan tae always be around, ye ken.”

******

“Are we all ready to go then?” John looked around the room. “I’m sure the restaurant won’t mind another one joining our party. Might just have to squeeze together a bit more but I’m sure that’s not a problem, eh, Jamie?”

Anna and Mary led the way out of the flat, followed by Claire, with John and Jamie bringing up the rear. Jamie’s eyes drifted to the brown curls three steps below him.

Once he had got over the initial shock of seeing her, a neighbour of his friend no less, he tried to study her appearance through surreptitious half glances whilst maintaining his air of indifference. Not that it was an act. He knew himself to be indifferent to her. The past eight years had proved that.

At first sight, she seemed pretty much the same. From the introductions, it was clear that she wasn’t married. Her curls were as untamed as ever; perhaps she had lost a bit of weight. But the way her hands fluttered around her face in agitation hadn't changed. Neither, apparently, had her obsession with hand cream.

******

Nine years ago

“Come to bed, Sassenach. I want that round arse of yers here next tae me right now.”

“In a second. Just finishing.”

“How many times do ye have tae put that cream on yer hands?”

“But they get so dry with constant washing and using the hand sanitiser all day. I have to keep putting it on. You don’t want my hands all rough, do you?”

“Och, no, Sassenach. When ye put yer soft hands there… oh… like that… and hold me… aye… and stroke… oh god… yer touch…”

******

Downstairs, the door to Mrs. Crook’s flat was slightly open.

“Mrs. Crook...” Anna peered around the door. “Hello, Mrs. Crook, are you ok? Your door’s open.”

“Come in dear. I must have forgotten tae close it.”

Mary turned to Claire and Anna. “That’s not like her. Mind if we just check?”

As they stepped into the hallway of Mrs. Crook’s flat, it quickly became apparent that things weren’t right. The small Persian rug on the floor lay crumpled and askew. The side table had obviously been knocked, the Royal Doulton figurine laying  on its side. They made their way into the living room to find Mrs. Crook sitting with one leg propped up on a stool. There was a cut just below the old woman’s hairline, the blood still fresh on her skin.

“Oh, Mrs. Crook, what happened?” Mary rushed to her side.

“Och, Dinna fash. I jes’ tripped up in the hall and banged ma head on the table. I’m fine, dinna bother about me.”

Claire’s professional instincts took over. “Can I see?”

Gently she touched the raised leg, her hands moving instinctively over the limb, pressing and prodding, looking for signs of pain or discomfort on Mrs. Crook’s face. Once satisfied, Claire sat back. “I think you’re very fortunate. You’ve only sprained your knee. We can put an ice pack on that to help with the swelling. I’m more concerned about the knock on your head. Do you feel sick, or sleepy?”

“Nae more than usual.”

“I think we need to take you to A&E, get you checked out there.”

“Oh, no, Dinna fash. I am no’ goin’ tae the hospital. I’ll be fine here. I can see ye’re all on yer way out. Dinna let me stop ye. Go, have fun.”

Claire looked sternly at the old woman. “No, I’m not leaving you here. You may have a concussion. If you won’t go to the hospital, then you’re going to have to put up with me staying to keep an eye on you.”

Mrs. Crook opened her mouth to protest, but Claire halted any protestation. “I’m not actually asking you, I’m telling you. That’s my plan. I’m going to go and get my medical bag and we’re going to spend the evening together watching the telly and drinking tea. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Once outside in the main entrance hall, Claire explained the situation to John. Jamie stood next to Anna, listening.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” John said sympathetically. “Are you sure you couldn’t maybe join us later?”

“No best not. But you all go and have a good night.”

Claire stood and watched as, laughing and joking together, the four of them headed out into the street.

******

Nine years ago

“So, have ye always wanted tae be a doctor, then?”

“Yes, ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to heal people, make people better. I think maybe it’s because… no, sorry…”

“What were ye goin’ tae say?”

“Er… maybe it’s because my parents died when I was a small child. Maybe I want to try to protect families from having to go through that. I don’t really know. I only know it’s always been my big dream.”

“I ken ye’ll be a grand doctor. I can tell. Ye’re a true healer.”

********

With Mrs.Crook comfortably settled, an ice pack on her knee and the cut on her head cleaned and washed, Claire sat down for an evening of watching television. As the opening credits for ‘X Factor’ appeared on the screen, she finally let her mind begin to wander over the evening’s events.

Like an unaccustomed hole in a tooth that the tongue is repeatedly drawn towards, even with the knowledge of pain to follow, so Claire’s mind kept being drawn towards Jamie, analysing every aspect of his sudden and very unexpected debut.

His physical appearance (still as muscular as ever, perhaps even more so, ageing well); his voice (no trace of the past eight years in his accent); his attire (still the same casual clothing, but worn so well. No wedding ring but then he never would wear any jewellery anyway so…); his demeanour (open and friendly… except to her).

And then, Claire realised, came the pain -- We have met. Now we are strangers, worse than strangers for we may never become acquainted.

NOTE: The last line is a direct quote from ‘Persuasion’ by Jane Austen.

[mysweetestcreature]

Wish Upon A Star (StepBro!Harry) Part III

Part II

***

Current drags the water in far enough to tickle the tips of her toes. A much-appreciated cooling sensation against her hot skin is something to revel in. He’s stretched out on the towel to her right, beads of water caressing his skin from having taken a dip in the ocean a few moments prior. It’s been four days since they’ve arrived in paradise. Her parents have been all loved-up celebrating twelve marvelous years of marriage. She admires how good they are together. Her mum is truly an amazing woman and her dad is as top-notch as they come. In time, she hopes that one day her and Harry can do what they do with just as much brilliance and finesse.

Only now does she realize how much they’ve needed this getaway. Come the fall, they’ll be starting university together in London. The process of filling out applications and sending them in and awaiting their fate had taken a toll on her, Harry as well. Fortunately, they both had been granted admissions to one of their top universities in a city where they could start fresh. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” he’s staring at her with an almost child-like curiosity.

“I’m just thinking,” she trails. He quirks an eyebrow at her, then rolls onto his side and props up his elbow to support his head. She mirrors his actions, so they’re face to face. His hand runs down her side, before it settles on the curve of her waist. “Do you ever think about the future?” It’s a forward question, but one that’s been drifting around in her mind for ages. 

“I do,” he inches closer to her on the towel. He places a chaste kiss to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose. By the way the corners of her mouth are tugging upwards, he knows he should continue. “I see us getting a flat together after graduation, or maybe even during our final year at Uni. By then you’ll be an accountant at some fancy firm and I’ll be designing buildings higher than anyone’s ever seen.”

The way he’s describing their future with such certainty has her heart swelling beneath her chest. “What else do you see?” They’ve never really talked about anything as far as schooling goes, until now that is. 

“If you must know,” he teases and pokes his nose into hers, “once we’re well off with our careers, I’m going put a ring on this finger right here.” He takes ahold of her left hand and thumbs across the base of her ring finger––she’s practically drawing blood from how hard she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Oh yeah?” the words are almost inaudible.

Harry nods his head vigorously. “Yeah. Then once I’ve knocked you up, we’ll move somewhere we can raise the kids. I’m thinking Dulwich, yeah? Can get a dog too, if you’d like. We’ll watch him chase after the little buggers once they’re home from school.”

She can’t help but giggle at the thought of their children. Hopefully they have his eyes. “How many kids are we talking here?”

He pretends to think, but he’s had the magic number committed to memory for a while now. “Three: Two boys, one girl. I can tell you now, my little angel is going to be a daddy’s girl,” he muses.

“Well, it seems like you’ve got things all figured out,” a blush falls upon the apples of her cheeks and she’s feeling all bubbly inside. He hums in agreement. It’s true. These are the thoughts the he has in bed when she’s fast asleep right next to him. He knows for sure that achieving such a dream will be difficult, impossible even. Things probably won’t turn out as picture-perfect as he’d like, but it doesn’t faze him. If he has to map out different ways to get to her, he will.

***

Harry notices how the rays of light are hitting her features in the most splendid of ways as they walk down stone steps that scatter throughout the island. He pulls his camera out to capture the moment. With a subtle ‘click’, he’s got the memory preserved. Y/n rolls her eyes, he’s been taking endless pictures of her since arriving. He says he wants to remember this holiday years from now and think fondly back to how ethereal she looked in the Grecian sun. Of course, he’s taken numerous shots of other things as well. They had explored the perimeters of the island yesterday. The manager at the hotel suggested they go on the Fira to Oia trail. Magnificent, is what Harry muttered when they reached the edge of the cliff. 

“Let’s head into the market, I promised Carrie I’d bring her something back,” Y/n says to him. He follows her through the crowds of people until they’re stopping at some jewelry stall. Instantly, she’s drawn to a rose quartz necklace arranged in the center of the cart. A beautiful soft shade of pink surrounded by a silver trim. “This is gorgeous,” she mumbles, but it’s more to herself. She picks it up off the cart to further study it. When she turns to ask for his opinion, he’s already wandered off. Her eyes scout the area, and she finds him snapping away on his camera. 

“Oi!” she shouts to him. Once she’s got his attention, he’s bringing the lens to his eye and taking yet another picture of her. He chuckles when he goes to look at it. In it, she’s glaring at him in that cute way she always does when she’s annoyed. 

He jogs back over and cups her face in his palms. She gives him an unknowing look when suddenly he’s attaching his lips to hers. The initial reaction is shock, until she’s grabbing his hips and melting into him. He licks along her lip and she grants him access to explore the expanse of her mouth. The kiss leaves her panting once he’s pulling away. She’s still a little unsure of what’s just happened but feels utterly satisfied at the same time.

***

“What’d you two do today?” They’re eating dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. “I went all the way to your guys’ room this morning, housekeeping said I just missed you,” Eric inquires. He had planned for all of them to do something together as a family. For most of the trip, they’d been subdivided into groups: him and Anne, Y/n and Harry.

Y/n swallows her mouthful of salad. “We went to the market today. Oh, Mum, you’d love it! I got myself the most beautiful necklace,” she gushes dreamily as she thinks back. Harry had bought it for her after their little display earlier. The jeweler had even given him a discount, she said something about how the rose quartz would help preserve their love. (Although Y/n is sure it was just to make a sale.)

Anne smiles in amusement at the girl. She loves how everyone is enjoying the vacation. Husband and wife had spent the day at the spa, and how relaxing it was! She had left the facility feeling years younger. An example of how proper rest and relaxation can do wonders to one’s wellbeing. “Dad and I will probably check it out before we leave,” she turns to look at Harry. “How about you, bub? What were you up to while this one was shopping?“ 

At first Harry doesn’t respond, his attention is fixed on the way Y/n is seductively biting her bottom lip in between her teeth, but it’s unseen by the older pair. He clears his throat. "I’ve got a bunch of shots of the buildings, the architecture here is incredible. My camera is back in the room though, remind me to show you later.” As a future architect, he really appreciates the structural cohesiveness that surrounds them. Greek architecture has always fascinated him and seeing it in person is definitely something to leave him awe-struck. Eric begins asking him questions about style and concept, which he happily responds to. He barely notices her sinking slightly into her chair until he can feel something touch his inner thigh. Casually, he glances down and nearly chokes when he spots her toes resting on the edge of his seat. Anne asks if he’s okay, but at this point, he isn’t sure.

***

After dinner, they’re parting ways on route to opposite sides of the hotel. The parents are staying in a honeymoon suite because according to Eric, ‘a man needs space to love on his wife without interruptions from their brood.’ Consequently, they booked the kids a nice deluxe room a good distance away. It’s not like the younger two mind it though. The arrangement has been quite the luxury for them. Imagine how torturous it would be for the four of them to be in such close proximity to each other––a nightmare is what that is. 

Once he’s sure that they’re away from any suspicious eyes, he’s pressing his front against her bum. When she feels his hardening member poke her, she grinds into him. He lets out a throaty groan and traces along the exposed skin that separates her fitted crop top and maxi skirt. “Can’t wait to get these off you.” She cranes her neck to reach up and place slow sensual kisses along his structured jawline. Her fingers tread through the spaces between his. Both so consumed with each other, they don’t even notice that they’ve managed to make their way to the elevator. Its doors slide open and he’s all but pushing her inside. 

Taking advantage of their isolation, he pushes her up against the wall and brings his lips to dawdle just centimeters away from hers. “You going to kiss me or not?” she taunts, a smirk spreads across her face. He brushes her hair behind her ear and goes to busy himself with the spot just below her lobe. Using the bar handle behind her as support, she leans back and lets out a content sigh as he makes his way down to suck tenderly on her pulse. 

“Should just take you right here, yeah? You love a little thrill, don’t you? It’s why you’ve been teasing me all night,” his voice is dangerously low. “Been so naughty, pet. I think I’m going to have to punish you tonight.” His hand slips past the waistband of her skirt, until it slides down to cup her heat. She lets out a shaky breath as he rubs her through the thin fabric of her panties. Harry has to stop himself from moaning when he feels how wet she is already. “Soaking for me." 

"You don’t have the balls,” she scoffs.

Suddenly, he can feel his blood boiling in his veins. A winded moan passes through her lips when he’s plunging a finger into her. She throws her head back and he’s attacking the skin of her throat, grazing his teeth against the smooth flesh. The way she can feel him curling against her walls has her nearly begging, but not just yet. Despite how much she wants him, she wants to wind him up a bit more. She pushes him away till he’s leaning on the opposite end of the elevator. 

One long stride in his direction, she’s placing more kisses along his jaw, his breath hitches when she’s palming his erection. “What’s the matter, baby?” a mask of innocence conceals the seductress underneath. He’s looking down at her through hooded eyes and parted lips. She brings her lips to press against the side of his mouth. Glancing up at the floor numbers as they pass by, he can’t believe how fucking slow the lift is going. His ears perk once the 'ding’ signals they’ve reached their floor.

They’re growing more impatient as he fumbles with the room keycard. She snatches it from him and inserts the plastic into the socket with ease. He walks her backwards into the depths of the interior. His kisses are selfish and hungry, and hot. The button up he’d been wearing has been discarded somewhere by the door. She moans against him as he’s pulling down her skirt and panties to pool around her ankles. His fingers are back to work as they tease her entrance. It’s a frantic attempt, but she’s finally gotten his trousers off, even in her hazy state. As soon as the back of her knees hit the footboard, they’re tumbling on top of the mattress. He kneels between her legs and kisses up her thigh. “I need you inside of me." 

His pupils are dilated as he licks his lips and scans over her naked body. "Someone’s needy,” he spreads her legs apart. “Look at you, all wet. Is this all for me?” Instead of responding, Y/n flips them over to straddle his waist. He’s caught off guard for moment, but the view of her from this angle is breathtaking. He grabs the camera on the side table and adjusts the focus, so her image is crisp under the dimmed wall lights. “So fucking beautiful.” He tosses it to the side and brings her down to meet his lips in another passionate kiss. 

She lifts herself up, until the tip of him is nudging into her. When she sinks down completely, they’re both chanting each other’s names. His hands go to grip her hips, guiding their movements. They take it slower than previously intended, both deciding to treasure the last night of their holiday. She doesn’t dare break eye contact with him. Although their desperation a few moments ago had called for a rough shag, it’s suddenly become much more. Nothing is said between them, they don’t need words to communicate their inner most desires. Just by the way their bodies move together, can they read what’s on the other’s mind. Eventually, she starts to feel herself unwind. A flash of hot white clouds her vision as she tightens deliciously around him. He bucks into her, wanting to chase his own orgasm. 

“Are you going to cum?” she asks when she’s seeing clearly again. He’s nodding his head and she lifts off him. Harry raises an eyebrow at her, but she just smiles up at him. “Want you to cum in my mouth.” She gives him no chance to respond before her mouth encompasses the length of him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as she swallows him whole.

***

“I’m rather jealous right now. Look at you, you’re glowing!” Carrie exclaims. It’s back to reality for Y/n, and the feeling is bittersweet. Part of her wishes she could stay back in Greece with Harry. The experience had been nothing short of extraordinary. She’s been telling Carrie about her holiday while lounging outside during free period.

“It was nice to able to relax for a while. I don’t remember the last time I felt so free.” Now that they are back in the UK, everything about their relationship is back under the cloaks of secrecy. Carrie shoots her a questioning expression, but Y/n shrugs it off. “I did a lot of exploring, is what I meant. The views from the hills are gorgeous, you’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” it’s obvious her friend isn’t buying into it, but she’s thankful that Carrie chooses not to press any further. “Anyway, did you get me anything?”

Y/n laughs and goes to fish something out of her book bag. She pulls out a small box that she had wrapped just this morning. Carrie excitedly snags the present out of her clutches and tears at the paper. She’s squealing in delight as she looks at the opal earrings in her lap. Just as she’s putting them on, Harry saunters over and plops himself down next to Y/n. 

“Ladies,” he simply greets. He’d just finished up a class early when he spotted the two under the shade of the tree. “Nice earrings,” he compliments, “was dragged around kingdom come with your friend trying to find 'the perfect pair’. Honestly, you should be thanking me.” The comment earns him a painful whack in the ribs and glare from Y/n. For the remaining time, he just listens in on the girls’ conversation. He gets slightly annoyed when Carrie starts asking about if there were any flings with hot Greek boys. Harry can’t help the sneer that escapes him. 

“Does it ever get annoying having such an overprotective brother?” Y/n laughs at her friend’s attempts to poke fun at the boy next to her. “You know, I went to the movies with Isaac from Latin class over the holiday. We started talking and when I mentioned you, he addressed you as 'Harry’s girl.’ I literally laughed in his face! Can you believe the fool didn’t know you two were siblings?” Carrie clutches her stomach at the memory. She doesn’t notice the nervous exchange between Harry and Y/n. Had someone seen them? Surely it was impossible. They had always been so careful.

***

Anne decided to take a few days off to clean the house when they arrived back. She was horrified by how quickly some dust had accumulated in some of the larger rooms. It was also a chance for her to catch up on the bundles of laundry they had brought back. Eric insisted she wait for him and the kids to help her over the weekend, but she wasn’t having any of it. No house of hers is going to be unkempt, not on her watch. 

She opens the door to Y/n’s room to place her clean clothes on top of her dresser. The surface is full of pictures of her daughter’s favorite memories throughout the years. Her eyes land affectionately on their first family picture. It had been taken at her and Eric’s wedding. The two children stood there holding hands as they posed in front of the newly married couple. All those years ago, she had never expected to find love again after her divorce from Harry’s father. The separation had taken a toll on her and her young son. She met Eric at the grocery in a very movie-esque fashion. His cart had bumped into hers and swerved into a display of canned soup. A true cliché if she’s ever heard of one.

Looking down at the pile of folded clothes still sitting in the basket, Anne makes her way towards Harry’s room. She’s surprised at how orderly it appears. Usually she has to yell at him to make it look more presentable. He is a teenage boy after all. 

The camera on top of his desk grabs her attention just as she’s about to walk out. Harry had told her and Eric about the notable pictures he had taken. She admires the way he’s so passionate about architecture, he’ll be making a big name for himself one day. “Let’s have a look then,” she mumbles. The first picture is of Eric at the airport the morning of their return flight home. He’s falling asleep in his seat, Y/n is peeking out behind him and sticking out her tongue. The next is of herself reading one of her daughter’s magazines––Anne makes an internal note to look through that smoothie recipe. 

As she backtracks through those taken the day of their departure, her brows furrow at a photo of Y/n covered by the white sheets of the hotel. By the looks of it, she isn’t wearing anything underneath. She clicks to the next picture and she nearly screams. A picture of her topless daughter in a compromising position, right in front of her eyes. Anne’s heart is racing as she frantically goes through the collection. Between nature shots and architectural shots are pictures of the girl. Most seem to be stolen snaps. Some are at rather intimate angles and distances. She can’t help the thoughts that are running through her head. There’s a terrifying feeling surrounding her, but it’s the confirmation of her fears that has her feeling sick to her stomach. She grabs her phone.

***

The car ride home consists of them singing along to Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album. She is quite annoyed though at how wonderful Harry’s voice is in comparison to her chicken vocals. Once the song is over, she’s turning down the volume, so she won’t need to scream over the music. What Carrie had told them earlier has been bothering her all day. “We’ve been careful, right?" 

He momentarily peers at her, "Of course, love. It’s not like we snog in the hallways or anything.” She rolls her eyes at him.

“I’m being serious! If Isaac’s noticed something, I’m sure other people have too.”

“Baby, Isaac isn’t the brightest bulb out there, you know that. I heard from Jameson that he’s always coming to class high,” he laughs, but he sees she’s still uncertain about all this. He reaches over to take her hand and brings it to his lips. “Don’t worry, yeah?” Her mouth fall into a straight line and she half-heartedly drops the subject. Carrie had refuted the notion of them being linked in that way. Surely there’s nothing to fuss over. 

The volume is raised, and they sit their listening. Both their hands are in her lap as she fiddles with his long fingers. He pulls into their driveway and is surprised to see his dad’s car parked just outside. “Dad’s home early,” he says as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. Eric usually stays at the office until six, Harry glances down at his watch, 4 o'clock.

***

“They’re here,” Anne’s looking at them through the curtains. She turns back to where her husband is sat on the armchair. He nods slowly. Anne had called him up at work in hysterics. Something about their children doing things no siblings should ever do. He laughed at her because the indication was simply outrageous. It was only until he left the office much earlier than he normal and saw his wife crying on the sofa that he saw the picture. 

The front door opens, and the sounds of Y/n giggles fill the house. Harry had cracked the corniest joke, known to man. She doesn’t know where he gets them from. They walk into the living room to see their parents looking all serious. The atmosphere around them is tense.

“What’s with the faces?” Harry asks. He looks at his mother and sees that her eyes are puffy. “Mum, are you alright?” he rushes to her side, but she holds a hand in front of her. Stop. He takes a step back. His eyes move to look back to Y/n, but she’s staring at something else. Following her gaze, they land on the camera in his dad’s grasp.

Eric stands up slowly, holding the camera up. “Explain this,” his voice is harsh. Harry hesitantly takes it from him. His heart stops when he sees it. Y/n waits for Harry to react, but when he too falls silent, she’s snatching the device from him. Tears automatically start to pool at her eyes at the picture of her and Harry, tightly embraced, lips locked.

She looks up to face Eric, “Daddy I-”

“How long,” he interrupts, but he’s looking directly at Harry, but the younger man can’t bring himself to look at him. “How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?” Both of them wince at the pounding of Eric’s shouts. He grabs Harry by the collar, “Fucking tell me!”

Anne rushes to hold on to Eric’s arm, “Calm down, this won’t solve anything.” She’s trying her best not to crack herself. 

“Calm down? Calm down!? Anne, they’ve been sneaking around behind our backs. Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” He’s seething with anger, frustration, and confusion. How could they have done this to him and Anne? It’s disgusting. 

Y/n gently places her hand on his shoulder, “Daddy, let him go. C'mon stop it…please.” Eric keeps his glaring eyes on Harry, before his fist collides with his face. Both Anne and Y/n scream as Harry falls to the floor. He watches his daughter kneel down beside him and seethes as he’s wrapping a protective arm around her. 

The scene that’s unfolding before her has the heated tears streaming from Anne’s eyes. “We…” she can’t stop herself from choking back a sob, “raised you together as-as brother and sister. This isn’t normal!" 

Harry stands both of them up. He can taste his own blood from where Eric had punched him on the side of his mouth. Y/n is crying into chest, but nothing he can do right now can stop any of this from happening. "I love her,” he boldly states. Both adults sneer at his words, as if it’s impossible to believe he could have such feelings. “You heard me, I’m in love with Y/n,” this time there’s an edge to his tone. 

Anne shrieks, “Don’t be so stupid, Harry. Use your head, she’s your sister!" 

"But not by blood,” Y/n counters when she peels herself away to confront them. “We’re not related. Hell, we don’t even share a last name. There’s nothing binding us besides your marriage.” Older couple and younger couple stare fuming at one another. There’s nothing that can be said to fix this mess the latter two have created. 

“How long?” Eric reiterates the question from before. “For how long has this affair been going on?”

Harry puts his hand to rest on Y/n’s lower back. “A little more than two years.” Eric can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

Two years, over two years of them lying straight to his face. He’s angry at both them for betraying his trust. While he and Anne were out of the house, what were they doing? Judging from the all those pictures on the camera…no. He doesn’t want to think about what they’ve been doing with each other. Whatever anger he’s feeling towards the world right now, he’s angrier at himself for being so blind. 

“I can’t deal with this right now,” he’s grabbing his keys and is walking out of the house. Anne attempts to stop him, he really shouldn’t be driving in such an emotional state, but it’s no use. As she stands defeated looking at the door, back turned to them, she’s never felt so disappointed and hurt in her entire life. Not even sparing them a second glance, she makes her way up the stairs without a word.

Likewise, the two drown in the deafening silence of the room. Y/n wants to march up there and explain to her mum all the reasons why this relationship isn’t wrong. She wants to tell her dad off for hitting Harry, but also plead for his forgiveness. Vulnerable. It’s the only word she can use to describe how she’s feeling. And despite Harry trying to soothe her, the damage has been done. 

They had been caught, their secret’s out.

***

A/N: Drama starts NOW! My god, I’m stressed out just thinking about what’s going to happen to Harry and Y/n. What did you all think? Comments, suggestions, concerns? Tell me here!

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch.1

My cheesily titled but I hope not cheesily written Carolight hospital AU :D

Dr Dwight Enys, coming home from several years abroad, takes a job in the A&£ dept of St Neot's hospital in Truro, not intending to be completely knocked for six by meeting a certain lovely dermatologist - Dr Caroline Penvenen.

Posting the first ch. for Carolight Week. 

~

Maternity Ward

“How in the Hell – “ Dwight glared at the blue plastic sign above the double swing doors, as if staring at it hard enough might change it into something that made sense. While he’d admittedly only been working here a week, he couldn’t fathom how anybody found their way around this hospital. It was like a bloody labyrinth. Although that was all relative considering that the last hospital he’d worked in had essentially been three wooden huts stuck together. The St. Neot’s Infirmary was something else altogether.

Technically, his shift was over for today, but since the A&E dept. was currently running a little understaffed he was still on call until late that evening, before having 48 hours off. He had been planning on going home, since his flat wasn’t too far way to make getting back in an emergency unworkable, and he still had some serious unpacking to do. However, what he’d intended to be a quick trip to the HR department to swap his temporary staff card for a permanent one – hideous passport photo and all – had turned into a trip down the rabbit hole.

Blessedly, he knew someone in the maternity unit who would be able to give him directions. Verity Poldark was a senior midwife at St Neot’s, and had been the one to suggest Dwight apply for a job there. He’d met her when he was at medical school with her cousin, Ross, and she’d been a trainee at the university’s teaching hospital.

Verity was standing at the nurse’s station when he went in, looking harassed, her hair coming loose from its pins. It didn’t really look like the time to bother her – maybe he could ask someone else – but she managed a smile when she saw him.

“Hi, Dwight. What brings you here?”

“Being horribly lost, I’m afraid. I was going to ask if you could show me the way but I’ve obviously caught you at a busy time.” The whiteboard behind the desk showed that four o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday was apparently a popular time to be in labour.

“No, it’s – “ Before Verity could finish her sentence, the doors swung open again behind Dwight, and Verity looked behind him, breaking into a much wider smile of what seemed like relief.

“George! Thank God!” Dwight turned to find that George was a fair-haired man of about the same age as him.

“Somebody call for an anaesthetist?”

“GET ME THE FUCKING DRUGS!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” George passed by Dwight without a second glance, heading into the room where the shout had emanated from. Verity made to follow him, but stopped.

“Are you doing anything at the minute, Dwight?”

“Er, no, not really.”

“Want to come and help deliver a very angry lady’s twins?” Dwight thought for a minute; about the pile of boxes he had to unpack and the papers from his aunt’s solicitor he still had to read.

“You know, I would.” 

~

Dwight suppressed a yawn as he signed off on yet another patient form – a 14 year old boy who’d suffered an asthma attack during a PE lesson; he would fine, but Dwight had strongly advised him that it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave his inhaler on his bedside table when he was going to be playing rugby.

This morning had been a complete whirlwind. Five minutes after he’d clocked on, four victims of a car accident had been rushed in, all of whom needed stabilising before surgery; and then an 89-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s who was incredibly distressed after a fall at her care home; two workmen who’d sustained mild burns after a piece of equipment had caught fire. On and on and on they’d come. Friday was often a busy day in A & E – no Saturday night, but it could get chaotic. Just before the 14 year old boy, Dwight had seen a time of death pronounced on an overdose case, so he wasn’t feeling his best.

His 48 hours off hadn’t given him much rest, in the end, although he had collapsed face down on his bed first thing on Wednesday morning after Mrs Teague’s 12 hour-labour, which had ended in the arrival of boy and girl twins, seemingly hale and hearty.

Unlike most of the British hospitals Dwight had worked in, St Neot’s actually had a pretty decent canteen, and he thought a ham salad baguette and packet of posh crisps would hit the spot.

“Dwight! Over here!” Verity waved at him from the corner, and he weaved his way between tables occupied by a mix of uniform clad nurses, doctors in scrubs and patients with dressing gowns over their hospital nighties – the odd one with a drip. He hoped none of them were skipping out on ‘nil by mouth’ orders.

“Hi, Verity. Hello.” Verity was sitting with George, the anaesthetist from Tuesday night, and another woman who’d also been at the delivery. In the chaos, Dwight had never got her name, but he’d gathered she was the on-call obstetrician. She was very pretty, with short, dark brown hair and soft features; her smile was wide and friendly, her eyes warm. Dwight could imagine her being a soothing presence for nervous mothers-to-be. Today, she’d swapped her scrubs for a smart sleeveless blouse, her glasses tucked into the neck.

“Didn’t get a chance to introduce you all properly the other night.” Verity smiled. “Dr Dwight Enys, this is Dr George Warleggan and Dr Elizabeth Warleggan.”

“I assume that’s not a coincidence?” Dwight sat, putting down his tray to exchange handshakes with the other two, who smiled at each other in a way which made their connection rather obvious.

“No. They’re our resident lovebirds.” Verity grinned and Elizabeth shook her head.

“Thank you for your help the other night, by the way.”

“How is Mrs Teague? And the babies?”

“Mmm,” Elizabeth took a pull on the straw of her drink. “All well. They were discharged yesterday – we kept the twins for observation since they both had low blood pressure, but they were right as rain after 24 hours or so.”

“Mrs Teague seemed very…overwhelmed by the experience.”

“Ha! I’ll say.” Verity shook her head. “It takes women lots of ways but, Ruth…”

“All that screaming…” Elizabeth sighed. “And for such a straightforward delivery, especially for twins. I blame TV, you know. People see all those histrionics and they think that’s how it should be.”

“Says the woman who gave me a black eye when she was giving birth!” George cried and Elizabeth gave a dramatic sigh, looking up in an exaggerated appeal to the heavens.

“That was an accident!” She looked at Dwight. “I reached out for his hand during a particularly hard contraction and he happened to be bending forward at the same time…”

“That’s her story!” Dwight laughed. This was obviously a well-worn argument, and he couldn’t help but smile at the obvious affection between the two of them.  He hadn’t got a proper look at George the other night – after administering the epidural he’d only needed to monitor Mrs Teague for a short while before the delivery team could take over, and then he’d been called away for a surgical procedure. Blue-eyed and fine-featured, he certainly made a handsome match with Elizabeth.

“So, how many children do you have?” Dwight asked.

“Two.” Elizabeth picked up her phone, scrolling through before handing it to him. The picture showed an adorable little boy of about three, with dark springy curls, peering curiously at a tiny light-haired baby. “Valentine, he’s nearly four now, and Ursula, she’s just turned one.”

“ – “ They obviously sensed his surprise at the unusual names, and Dwight was briefly afraid he’d offended them, but George smiled.  

“Valentine was born on Valentine’s day, and Ursula was Elizabeth’s great-aunt, she died just before the baby was born. Also, there’s surprisingly little that goes with ‘Warleggan’.”

They chatted more as they ate, Dwight telling them a little about his time with Medicines sans Frontieres – although nothing about why he’d joined the organisation in the first place; even Verity didn’t know the full details there, and he certainly wasn’t ready to talk about it with strangers, even ones as nice as these. He did explain that he’d come home to Cornwall to take care of his Aunt’s estate, and that Verity had persuaded him to join the staff at St Neot’s.

“She’s the best recruiter this place has got!” Elizabeth laughed. “She got her brother here, too. And Demelza!”

Dwight had known Francis for a while, too, although not as well as the other Poldarks – he’d gone to a different uni, and practiced in Scotland for a few years. He was now a consultant ophthalmologist at St.Neot’s – the only one, actually.

“Demelza?” He’d met an awful lot of people since arriving at the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but he couldn’t remember her. He was sure he’d remember someone with such an unusual name.

“One of the hospital pharmacists.” Verity explained. “I met her at a yoga class, and she told me she wanted a change from her old job…”

“I think Dr. Martin said we were short a few A & E nurses if you fancy taking that on?” Verity elbowed him and he laughed. Suddenly, there was a beeping noise, and all four of them rummaged in their pockets.

“It’s me. Emergency surgery. Nice to meet you, Dwight.” With a quick kiss for Elizabeth, George was gone, his wife smiling after him.

“Aww…” Verity cooed.

“Shut up.” Elizabeth said primly, fighting a grin.  

“No, I love it. You give this sad singleton hope for true love.” Verity sighed with exaggerated dreaminess, and Elizabeth snorted. After a moment, Dwight became aware of someone standing behind him, just as Elizabeth smiled widely.

“Caroline! Here, meet the new A & E registrar I told you about. Dwight, this is Dr Caroline Penvenen.” Dwight turned to greet the new arrival, and found himself completely lost for words.

[ineverhadmyinternetphase]

In My Way - Chapter 23

AO3 link, First Chapter

Genre: Chaptered. Actor!Dan AU, fluff, bit of angst, slow burn, getting together (eventually)

Summary: Fiction. Daniel Howell is 21 and Britain’s newest star. He’s just been cast in the much-anticipated film adaption of Last Man Standing, the popular teen fantasy novel with a huge fanbase hanging off his every tweet. In other words, Dan has made it big.

Phil Lester couldn’t care less. He’s a stressed out PHD student working part time at a bookshop while he struggles to get into post-production. He’s 26 and still lives in a tiny flat on the fifth floor of a building with a lift more broken than it is in use. He loves books, but he thinks big film adaptions screw with the plot too much.

Needless to say, Phil is less than impressed when Last Man Standing is getting filmed in his hometown. And he certainly doesn’t want anything to do with obnoxious, arrogant, so irritatingly perfect leading actor   Daniel Howell.

Warnings: Swearing, Ace!Phil, Bi!Dan, slight a- and bi-phobia, discussions of sexuality

Word Count: 5000-6000 per chapter (ish)

A/N: I just wanted to say, before we get going with the chapter, thank you so much for 3000 kudos! That is crazy!! I never expected an ace fic to get this much love. Thank you to everyone who has read so far (and sorry for making you wait so long for this update) but I come bearing good news! I have now finished this fic!

The last chapter will go up on Wednesday, and the epilogue on Friday, and then this fic will be done ^_^ thank you for your patience with me!

Massive thanks to @agingphangirl for helping me out with this chapter, and of course to my lovely beta Meg @mecaka who's going to look this over for me ^_^

---

The week leading up to the premiere was nothing short of hell for Phil.

He started the week by having to head back up to Manchester, leaving Dan behind in London again, and Phil was really, really starting to hate having to say goodbye. Train stations were becoming an all too familiar surrounding, standing there in public staring at Dan longingly, unable to reach out and take him into his arms, having to make do with whispered goodbyes and promises to be back soon.

It was the last time, though, Phil reminded himself. The last time he’d have to make sure not to be publicly affectionate with Dan.

That was such a strange thought. Phil was still blown away sometimes that he even wanted this – for the first time in his life, he wanted to be with someone. The prospect of an actual relationship still terrified him when it reared up in its pure form, but then he just had to remember that it was only Dan, and everything felt ok again.

He would always want to be with Dan, he suspected. Everything was just easier to cope with when Dan was in the same room as him.

When Phil got back to Manchester, it was to an untidy flat that he’d left in a stress-muddled mess, notes for his PhD thrown about everywhere, and no food in his cupboards. Phil cursed his past self who hadn’t bothered to have any foresight past going back down to London and seeing Dan again, which had, of course, been his priority at the time.

It was a good priority, but now Phil was left in a mess again.

There wasn’t even any real point trying to tidy up – his viva was in four days’ time, that didn’t give him long to look over the rest of his notes and frantically try and prepare. This was the last time he’d ever need to work on something for his PhD, or education in general if he was able to get some work. In London, perhaps, if his tentative plans for the future somehow magically played out.

Phil bit his lip, recalling the rather strange conversation he’d had with Dan in relation to his possible idea of moving to London. It hadn’t gone anywhere near as well as Phil had hoped. Dan had been about to tell him something, Phil was sure, right before Tyler walked in, but – well, Phil had no idea what that might have been.

Some reason he had for not wanting Phil to move to London?

No, Phil tried to quench that doubt the minute it arose. Dan had made it clear enough he wanted Phil around him, and had told Phil more than once to quiet his insecurities surrounding that. Plus, Dan was actually planning to publicly announce Phil as his partner at the premiere in a week’s time – it was difficult to imagine anything more permanent.

Phil smiled at that image, pausing just before ordering takeaway for the night. He was caught somewhere between excited and terrified at thoughts of the premiere. On the one hand, he struggled through any kind of public event at the best of times, and this would be something quite different – a lot more spectacular than he was used to. Phil was really not the kind of person to attend premieres. He’d never in his life imagined he’d get there – although he’d always had an interest in the film industry, it was definitely from behind the scenes.

The idea of going to such a glitzy event on the arm of Daniel Howell himself sounded like it had to be happening to someone else.

But on the other hand, Phil knew Dan now – he knew what a lazy sod he could be, how Dan didn’t much like public affairs any more than Phil did, how they’d be leaning on each other to get through it. Plus, he would quite like to meet back up with Xander and Louise and the other people from the film set, the place he’d first met Dan, back when half of Manchester was clogged with the road closure.

Phil remembered how annoyed he’d been initially upon hearing the news of the set in his city, and grinned. That had changed rather drastically. And now, here he was, almost to the end of his PhD with the tantalising possibility of a shining future with Dan stretching out before him.

---

Two days before his viva, Phil met up with PJ for lunch. He hadn’t seen PJ in far too long, and he needed a distraction to quiet some of his greater nerves that were building more and more the closer it got to his final assessment. Plus, he really wanted to tell PJ about his and Dan’s plans for the premiere before they happened. The last thing Phil wanted was for PJ to read about him in a paper before Phil got the chance to talk to him.

PJ, it turned out, was busy himself packing up ready for moving to London. In all the excitement of his own life, Phil had almost forgotten about PJ getting his job down with the film company that Xander worked for, and so of course he was relocating.

Phil hoped to be joining him, if all went well. But he wasn’t sure how much to say for now. Everything felt so tentative still.

On the other hand, PJ was his best friend; they’d been close since their first term of uni. If there was anyone Phil could trust to confide in completely, it was PJ.

“So how’s packing going?” Phil asked, sipping at his coffee.

PJ swallowed his bite of sandwich and ran one hand through his curly hair. “Don’t even ask, seriously. I forgot how much stuff I have. And do you have any idea how expensive it is to hire removal vans to London?”

“I can imagine,” Phil agreed with a pained smile. “But you’ve got a place down there?”

“Yeah, not a great one but it’ll do.” PJ sent Phil a sly smirk. “Nothing like the place you’ve been crashing with Mr Daniel Howell, I suspect.”

Phil, much to his horror, felt warmth spreading up the back of his neck. “Hey. It wasn’t that flashy.”

That was a lie. Dan’s flat was pretty fancy, with his wage packet and Tyler’s combined they managed a pretty nice spacious place in the centre of London.

“Yes, well, mine’s barely bigger than a room and I’m lucky to have it,” PJ grumbled. “I hope you’ll come to visit me as well as that actor of yours, though, Phil.”

“Definitely,” Phil promised. “It’ll be weird without you here. Who am I going to drag out for lunch when I’m panicking next time?”

PJ fixed him with a soft, knowing look.

Phil shrank a little under that gaze.

“It isn’t just me in your life now, though, is it?” PJ asked smugly. “I called it, you know. When I saw how you were looking at him.”

Phil could feel the tips of his ears going red, heat still creeping up the back of his neck. “Was I that obvious?”

“Slightly.” PJ grinned at him. “I thought I must be seeing things at first though. Never seen you like that before.”

Phil half-smiled back. PJ knew him better than most – he was right, Phil hadn’t really acted like this before. Dan just… kind of came along and took over his world. Phil hadn’t been expecting that. If he looked objectively at the past few months of his life, he hardly even recognised himself.

But he felt good. Like he was moving forward. And he wanted to keep Dan around.

“About that, actually,” Phil began, his words getting thicker. “I, um. Maybe you won’t be the only one moving to London soon.”

PJ looked up, surprised, half-way through taking a bite of his sandwich.

“I’m thinking about it,” Phil admitted. “Maybe. Things with Dan, they’re – well, like you said, I haven’t really ever done this before. But they’re pretty great, if I’m honest.”

PJ grinned around his mouthful. “So you’re coming down too?”

“It’s something I’m thinking about,” Phil answered, nodding. “Quite seriously thinking about.”

PJ’s grin widened. He put down his sandwich and clapped Phil’s shoulder, harder perhaps than necessary. Phil’s shoulder ached. “That’s amazing! We’ll be a proper team, I’m glad, I need your help down South.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?” Phil asked a little shyly. “Me moving down too, I mean?”

PJ levelled him with a serious look. “I think that the fact you’re considering it is sign enough.”

Phil tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know you, Phil.” PJ was still looking at him seriously. “You don’t like change, you don’t like moving. You stayed close to home for a reason. So the fact you’re thinking about up and moving across the country – well, Dan must be pretty special.”

Phil bit his lip. The way PJ phrased that had nerves spiking back through him again, as if hearing so starkly just how drastic his plans were made him reconsider exactly what he was doing.

PJ caught the look and sent him a questioning stare. “Are you worried about it?”

“Well, a little,” Phil admitted. “It’s a big move. It’s kind of scary.”

PJ nodded, but he was smiling again. “Which is why the fact you’re even considering it tells me it’s a good idea. You’re ready for something new, mate. Have you thought about what you’ll do?”

Phil nodded slowly, remembering the research he’d done into editing companies, the bookmarks sitting unopened on his laptop, the emails sent and not yet answered. He had options. He had a favourite company all ready to call up, the one he’d told Dan about what felt like ages ago now. It wouldn’t take much to send off an application. He was qualified, he knew – or he would be, once his viva was out of the way.

The knowledge that his viva was only two days away sent nerves clenching in Phil’s stomach all over again.

But PJ seemed happy for him – and that was important. One more step in the direction Phil thought he wanted his life to take now. Not much longer and he could potentially have everything he’d once dreamed of.

If everything went well. If Dan really did want him to move down to London. If he wasn’t hiding anything.

But he couldn’t be. Phil would know.

---

“So I told Tyler the hot water isn’t running right because my shower was freezing this morning, and he completely blew up at me!” Dan’s tone was a familiar whine down the phone, keeping Phil company as he sorted through some of his extensive notes. Preparing for his viva had been driving him insane, so seeing the incoming call from Dan cheered him up no end.

He wondered if his heart would ever stop flipping over when he saw Dan’s name pop up on his phone screen.

“So what did he do to you?” Phil asked, amusement hiding behind his tone.

Dan huffed. “He didn’t do anything. He just told me that I should probably call the landlord if I had a problem.”

“I mean,” Phil said as blandly as he could, “You probably should.”

“Yes, but what if I don’t want to?”

“Not really a good enough excuse, is it,” Phil chuckled.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Rude.” Dan huffed. “How was your lunch with PJ?”

“Nice. Good, actually.” Phil straightened up, leaning back against his bookshelf. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?” Dan sounded interested.

“Yeah. PJ’s getting ready to move, you know.” Phil fiddled with a pen lying on his desk. “Got a place in London.”

“It’s so good Xander liked him enough to hire him,” Dan agreed.

“Yeah.” Phil glanced at his desk, where his laptop still sat open on the email he’d drafted, a reply to the company he’d already expressed an interest with. His CV was attached. His portfolio was ready. All he had to do was click send.

But first—

“So PJ liked the idea of me possibly moving down there too.” Phil got the words out quickly, like nails through his teeth, a pool of nerves still tugging at his stomach.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So it’s actually possible?” Dan started talking quickly, his words running together like they always did when he got excited. “You’re seriously thinking about it? And it wouldn’t be too far, your family – I always said I’m not going to take you away from them if you don’t want to, and your home’s up there, and—”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted firmly. “Do you want me to be in London?”

The answer was immediate. “Yes. Please.”

The words, simple as they were, were enough to calm the unsettling flutter swirling around in Phil’s stomach. He took in a breath, leaned over, and hit send on his computer. “Then I’m looking into making that happen.”

Dan drew in a sharp, excited breath. “Really? Like, actually, in real life, really?”

“Yes.” Phil bit back a grin. This was more the response he’d expected, more of what he wanted. Dan being excited, unafraid to show it (to Phil, at least) and full of eager ideas.

“Fuck, yes, you could stay with me and Tyler. If he ever stops grouching about the hot water. Or, actually, better idea, he can grouch so much he leaves and then you can just move in with me.”

“I don’t want to start this by kicking out your best friend,” Phil laughed, but he couldn’t deny the sharp little buzz starting to sing under his skin. The casual way Dan had said move in with me. Like it wasn’t even a question. Like of course they’d end up together.

“But the rest of it?” Dan wheedled. “How soon are we talking? Are you just going to stay here after the premiere?”

“I don’t think it quite works like that,” Phil answered with a grin still fighting its way onto his face. “I mean, I still have to pack up my stuff and somehow get everything down to London. Never mind I’d quite like to wait until I have confirmation of somewhere to work, I only just applied.”

There was a hesitant silence.

“You applied somewhere?” Dan’s voice was still excited, but more cautious. Phil supposed he was nervous on Phil’s behalf. “Where?”

“The place I told you about before.” Phil leaned over, read off the name of the person he’d contacted. “I literally just sent them my info. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

“I will.” Dan’s voice had gone a little funny, maybe the reception was bad. “You’ll walk into it. With your reputation, how hard you’ve worked.”

“I don’t have a reputation yet.” Phil gave a cynical laugh. “But I have lots of official-sounding letters after my name, so maybe that will help?”

“I’m sure it will.” Dan still sounded subdued. “Tyler just got back, I’ll call you back later?”

“Sure.” Phil glanced back over to his abandoned viva notes, knew he really needed to go through them properly again. “Good luck with the hot water.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” Dan answered dryly, and then hung up.

---

In London, Dan stared at his phone for a couple more seconds before running in a panic into the kitchen, where he could hear Tyler unpacking some shopping.

Tyler took one look at his face and glared. “No, Howell, I am not calling the landlord about anything ever again, not after you swore it would be your turn next time!”

“I’ll do it in a sec,” Dan waved him away, pointing dramatically at the phone in his hand. “We have a situation.”

Tyler looked from the phone, to Dan, and back to the phone again. “You can’t have broken that too, surely.”

“No, no.” Dan flapped his free hand. “Phil.”

“The man you’re hopelessly in love with, yes,” Tyler agreed slowly, raising a brow. “What about him?”

“He’s coming to London.”

“Now?” Tyler looked surprised. “I mean, not that I’m complaining – I could do with more time to get his shirt fitting properly…”

“No, no, not now,” Dan spat, ignoring the tug in his chest that wished that were true. “Like, forever. In the future.”

Tyler looked at him blankly. “…I’m not getting the panic here.”

“He emailed them!” Dan’s voice was getting shrieky. He made Tyler flinch. “The company! The one you made me tell about him!”

Tyler blinked, still staring. But then his eyes widened in understanding.

“Exactly!” Dan’s tone was still much more high-pitched than it should be. His breathing was quick, panic clouding his thoughts, and none of his years of actor training could teach him how to calm down.

Tyler raised a hand, palm out. “Hey, woah, woah. I didn’t make you do anything, Howell.”

“You were there!” Dan ran a distressed hand through his hair. “You could have stopped me! Fuck, I knew it was an awful idea, I knew—”

“Wait,” Tyler said, eyes wide as he stared up at Dan. “Wait a minute, calm down. You said he emailed them, right? So does he know?”

Dan let out a panicked breath, fingers clenching in the hem of his baggy shirt. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“Maybe he knows and just doesn’t care, then?” Tyler squeaked hopefully.

Dan let out a sardonic laugh. They both knew Phil well enough to know that couldn’t be true – they both knew that Phil wouldn’t just accept Dan putting in a good word for him without complaint. Phil was too fucking pure, had too much integrity. He wanted to get in of his own volition, manage his own progress, be completely assured that everything he did was from his own hard work. And he was good, he’d be able to go far.

But Dan had scuppered all of that for now, hadn’t he?

“Shit, I fucked up,” Dan half-whispered, his hand back in his hair and tugging, hard. “Shit. I shouldn’t have – I never should have done it.”

“You were acting in his best interests,” Tyler tried to placate him.

Dan levelled a glare his way. “We were.”

“Yes, yes, ok,” Tyler admitted, paling considerably. “Fuck, don’t tell him I had anything to do with this.”

Dan arched a brow. “Are you scared of him?”

“He’s way bigger than me!” Tyler bit his lip. “I don’t want to get punched.”

“Phil wouldn’t punch a beetle,” Dan disagreed, with wry experience. When Dan had found a bug in the bathroom once and promptly started screeching, Phil simply befriended it as he scooped it up and showed it to the door. “Besides, he’s going to be too concerned with yelling at me to do anything about you. And then never speaking to me again. Fuck.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Tyler reassured, even though he didn’t look particularly sure about it himself.

Dan looked back at him, not answering. The silence was heavy, and Tyler didn’t look convinced either, but Dan chose to believe his words, at least for now.

“It won’t be that bad,” Dan murmured, turning back to his room, and hoped with every bone in his body that it would be true.

---

The day of Phil’s viva, Phil was a shaking, trembling mess. But he got through it. Somehow, with a quick call to his mum beforehand where she told him to pull himself together, and a whole barrage of encouraging texts from Dan that blew up his phone to the point where Phil actually had to turn it off before he went in, Phil made it.

They tore his argument to shreds, of course, but (as much to Phil’s surprise as anyone else) his theory actually stood up to their inquisition. They liked it, he thought. At least, he left the room with a smile on his face, feeling more confident than he had in quite a long time.

And that was it. His education complete. All that was left was for him to receive his marks and then he’d be graduating.

Phil felt a strange, gaping sort of emptiness at that thought. The relief would come later, simmering deep in his bones, but it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. He was free. Endless time on his hands, freedom to do as he pleased.

The only thing still holding him to Manchester was his work at Lilith’s bookshop, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d be moving yet.

Never mind the fact that he didn’t actually know for sure if he was moving. No word back from the editing company he’d emailed yet.

Phil didn’t have a huge amount of time to mope, though, not when the premiere he was attending with Dan was happening this weekend. It left him with far too little time to pack, to clean up the mess that was his apartment after weeks of living among scattered notes and countless books, all preparing for his viva. Which was now done. He was free.

He could feel it starting to sink in as he set about clearing up his things, carefully tidying away all his notes back into his filing system (Dan used to make fun of his folders, calling him an old man. The memory brought with it a wave of fondness and the urge to send Dan a bunch of texts, which Phil followed through on even though he knew Dan was currently in a meeting with his agent). It felt strange, in part, to be packing up the last four years of his life into folders, but Phil didn’t feel as empty as he thought he would.

He may just have been too busy freaking out about the premiere, of course.

He passed the rest of the week in a blur of packing and panicked calls to Dan, during which Dan attempted to soothe him, and one very bizarre occasion where Tyler called him, saying he’d stolen Phil’s number from Dan, to have a very serious discussion about the pairs of shoes Phil owned. Turned out there was a lot to think about when wearing an outfit to a premiere.

The weekend rolled around too soon, and Phil felt horrendously unprepared, but he still got on the train and spent the entire journey on tenterhooks, eager to see Dan again.

Dan, of course, met him at the station, and greeted him with a quick but fervent hug before pulling back nervously.

“Hey,” Phil reminded him gently, leaning into his side. “Last time we’ll ever have to hide it, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, and sent him the sunniest, widest smile Phil had seen in a while. Phil’s stomach tugged. “True. That bit, I’m excited for.”

“Only that bit?” Phil teased mildly, letting Dan take a bag from him as they walked side-by-side out of the station. “Not the part where you’ll get to show off in front of a crowd of screaming fans?”

Dan shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re the one dragging me to this thing, I hold every right to remind you.”

“Ok, first of all, you agreed to join me in this hell,” Dan reminded him, elbowing Phil’s side. “And secondly, you’re the only thing that’s going to make this bearable, so please kindly shut the fuck up.”

Phil, despite himself, snorted. “So polite.”

“As much as you deserve.” Dan elbowed him again, then took hold of his arm to lead him out of the station and to a waiting car.

Phil stopped, looked at it (it had blacked out windows) and then sent Dan a questioning look.

“Sorry.” Dan grimaced a little. “With the premiere coming up and all, interest has spiked a bit. It’s safer to travel this way.”

“Oh.” The cluster of nerves gathered in Phil’s stomach set alight again. He took in a breath. “OK. That’s fine. Yeah.”

“You sound anything but fine,” Dan chuckled, and then took his hand and led him gently forwards.

They put Phil’s bags in the boot and then climbed in the back, and the driver politely nodded to Dan before setting off. “Back to your flat?”

“Yes please, James,” Dan answered, and Phil held back a laugh at the uncomfortable look on Dan’s face. He knew enough of Dan now to believe that Dan disliked having a driver almost as much as Phil felt uncomfortable sitting on the fancy white leather seats.

The drive did give them an excuse to sit close and hold hands, though, which Phil wasn’t exactly complaining about.

When they got back, Tyler was in waiting for them and had cooked an extravagant meal. Phil was still a little scared of him, so clung close to Dan’s side from the moment they stepped in lest Tyler jump him with more questions about colours and styles and the way he wore his hair.

He couldn’t help but compliment Tyler on his cooking, though, after a few bites of the steak.

“It’s my dream to be a house husband one day,” Tyler sighed thoughtfully in response. “This is just practice for when I cook for my family every night.”

“You hardly ever cook for me,” Dan griped, leaning over Phil to get some water.

Tyler smiled at him sweetly. “That’s because, Howell, you’re an ungrateful lazy disaster of a human. You’re just lucky I like your boyfriend.”

Phil choked on his glass, but Dan just snickered.

“And you two had better keep it down tonight,” Tyler added seriously, sending both of them a sharp, knowing glance that instantly made Phil uncomfortable. “I know you must have missed each other, but no funny business, at least not loudly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, we won’t talk loudly past ten,” Phil assured him.

Tyler snorted. “Adorable. That’s not what I meant, Phil.”

Phil blinked for a moment, confused, and then his eyes went wide.

Dan was sitting beside him and reached over instantly, a reassuring hand on Phil’s knee and a calm voice as he said, “Shut the fuck up, Tyler.”

“I mean, I won’t blame you,” Tyler added, still tucking into his side salad. “A week’s a long time, you’ve missed each other, I get it, but I don’t need to hear any unnecessary noises, alright? No mental images that will scar me for life.”

Phil was politely choking through Tyler’s words. He cowered down in his seat so low he wanted to disappear, could feel the hot redness spreading across the back of his neck and to the tips of his ears.

He knew what Tyler was talking about. Or, at least, he thought he knew.

“Um,” Phil managed to squeak, and Dan sent him a sharp look.

Phil looked back. “Should we tell him?”

Dan couldn’t keep the surprise from his face, even as he schooled his expression into a calm, blank one. “That’s up to you, Phil. It has to be your decision.”

Phil bit his lip.

Tyler looked between them, confused. “You know, I’m getting used to you two speaking in your own language, but if this is about me…”

“Sorry,” Phil said quickly, flicking Tyler a glance. He still felt like his face was on fire. “Um. There’s something – I should maybe tell you.”

Tyler quirked a brow at him.

Dan squeezed Phil’s knee, leaning into his side. “You sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I – I want to.” Phil sat up a little, squaring his shoulders. “It’s not even that big a deal, it’s just – Tyler, you don’t, like, ever have to worry about those, um… noises. Like you were talking about.”

Tyler’s brow rose even higher.

“I’m asexual,” Phil blurted out, the word releasing something wound up tight in his chest. He swallowed past the nervous lump in his throat. “Um, so. That’s. Like, that’s – not a thing that’s ever going to happen?”

It came out more like a question. Why did it have to come out like a question?

Tyler was staring at him with his mouth open.

Dan, of course, came to the rescue. He leaned into Phil’s side but kept his gaze flickering back to Tyler, even as Dan nonchalantly continued eating his steak. He spoke between bites. “So yeah, you get your peace and quiet. Doesn’t mean you get to just walk into my room whenever you want, though, that rule still applies.”

Tyler blinked, finally. He was still staring at Phil. “You’re what, exactly?”

Phil floundered under that gaze. “Umm. Asexual. And sex-repulsed, for that matter, but like – mostly just asexual.”

Phil had done his research. He was more comfortable with his label now, and where he sat on it, but that didn’t really make saying it out loud any easier.

Tyler was still gawping at him.

“Close your mouth,” Dan told him, reaching for more salad.

Tyler promptly snapped his mouth shut, only to open it again a second later. “Asexual?”

The back of Phil’s neck was on fire. “Um. Yes.”

“Huh.” Tyler sat back, eyes still fixed on him. “Funny. I’ve never met one in real life before, I always just kind of assumed it was made up.”

Phil, despite himself, flinched. He didn’t know Tyler that well, true, but he hadn’t expected such avid confusion in his tone.

He should have expected it, though. He wasn’t normal. He knew this. Tyler’s reaction was just further proving it.

Dan, however, was looking at Tyler through a sharp-eyed glare. “Well, it isn’t. And now you have. So.”

Phil shrank in his seat.

Tyler closed his mouth again, looking between them still, from Phil’s determined slouch staring down at the table to Dan’s sharp glare that didn’t leave Tyler’s face.

Wisely, Tyler decided to change the subject.

“Ok, well…” he trailed off, still looking at Phil with something like confusion in his eyes. “Ok. That’s fine, I guess. Um. Both your outfits are laid out for tomorrow, put them on early so I can get started on your hair and make-up, alright?”

At that, Phil’s gaze snapped back up to Tyler, eyes widening. “What was that, sorry?”

Dan elbowed his side lazily. “Don’t worry too much. Tyler’s insistent, but he’s good.”

“Exactly, and I can’t let you go walking down that red carpet without looking stunningly attractive. Everyone’s going to want to have you.” Tyler paused a second. “Or, well – um. However you want to look. Either way, you’ll be hanging off Dan’s arm all night, I’m going to make you look like the perfect couple you absolutely are.”

Nerves curled up like ashes rekindling in Phil’s stomach at that mental image. Him and Dan before all those cameras, all those people watching him, judging him, and he had no doubt that not all of them would look upon him and Dan favourably.

He didn’t voice these thoughts until much later, after dinner was cleared and Tyler settled on the sofa while Dan and Phil retreated back to Dan’s room, the door shut, them sprawled out across the bed.

“It’s a big thing you’re doing, after all,” Phil confessed quietly into Dan’s neck, Dan’s fingers soothingly stroking over his back. “No one is going to look at us the same. What if people react badly? Twitter’s already crazy enough, but this is like, the actual newspapers and stuff. What if—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Dan interrupted smoothly, his fingers pressing into Phil’s spine, “Before you freak me out more than I already am.”

Phil looked up, brow wrinkling apologetically. “Sorry. I don’t mean to do that, I’m just…” he sighed, rolling further into Dan’s body, concentrating on his warmth.

“Scared?” Dan finished for him, voice so soft it was barely a murmur. “Because that makes two of us.”

Phil winced. He reached out, arms wrapping around Dan, and rolled them until they were both on their sides, facing each other. He used one finger to gently trace down Dan’s cheek, pressing once where his dimple usually sat, and then cupped his face with his palm. “It’ll be alright. We’ll do it together, and afterwards, it’ll still just be us. That’s what you told me, remember? We’ll just be us.”

Dan’s brown eyes looked back at him, full of insecurity, but his grip tightened around Phil’s fingers. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Phil answered easily, and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Dan’s mouth. “We’ll still be us, whatever happens tomorrow.”

Dan curled into him like a pretzel piece, long and gangly and he was definitely kneeing Phil in the stomach, but Phil dealt with it for the feeling of being able to wrap his arms tight around Dan and hold him close.

Phil clung to his own words as he closed his eyes. Dan would still be his come morning, come whatever happened after the premiere. Whatever people would think of him, some nobody hanging off The Daniel Howell’s arm. Dan would still be his, whatever people assumed. That would be enough to get him through tomorrow.

---

Despite all his reassurances to himself, Phil woke the next morning with a tight ball of nerves coiled in his stomach.

He went through the motions of getting dressed with his throat closing up and nausea roiling beneath his skin, tingling. One glance at Dan told him Dan was in a similar state, except Dan was better at hiding it – his face smoothed out impassively, hard-to-read. It wasn’t for nothing that Dan was such a successful actor at such a young age.

Dan helped Phil into his dark gold jacket and then wrapped his arms around him, just hugging him for a moment. “It’ll be fine. We’ve got this.”

Dan’s voice was steady, which was a reassurance, but Phil was still jangling with nerves as he turned in Dan’s embrace to face him. “Have we? Honestly? Because I don’t feel like I have a clue.”

“Oh, same,” Dan said, and laughed. “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, but – but this will be so worth it, Phil.”

Phil bit his lip, took in a breath. “No more hiding.”

“No more hiding.” Dan leaned into him, his head resting on Phil’s shoulder. “I just want to hold your hand on the street, why is this so hard?”

Phil gave a low chuckle. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist and pulled him closer, pressing his face into Dan’s viciously straightened hair. “After today, it will be. Then you can hold my hand all you like.”

“I’m never going to let you go,” Dan answered determinedly. He still looked pale when he drew back, though, and Phil didn’t miss the taught thinness of his lips. Dan might be doing a good job of hiding it, but Phil could still see the nerves.

He leaned in and kissed Dan softly, eyes falling closed for just a moment. Dan melted against him in just the way Phil was growing used to, the way he missed most when he was alone in Manchester wrapped up in his bedsheets, and kissed back with a soft sort of desperation.

It was a long moment before Phil drew away, and then they turned to face the day together.

The hours passed all-too-fleetingly for Phil’s taste. He spent most of the day sat in a chair in the kitchen surrounded by products he had never heard of before (Tyler improvised the kitchen table into a make-up desk, complete with several mirrors that Phil tried to avoid looking into). Dan was by his side, grumbling at Tyler good-naturedly and every now and then prodding Phil with his foot when he wanted to get more attention, which Phil was happy to give even with the nerves that seemed to jump tighter and tighter with each passing minute.

All too soon, he was standing with Dan by the door with a car waiting downstairs, Tyler flitting about putting final touches to their looks.

Dan took both Phil’s hands in his in the last moment, turning Phil to face him. He looked beautiful like this, Phil admitted – Tyler had done a perfect, subtle job, and Dan was practically sparkling.

His eyes, though. His eyes were what drew Phil the most, dark and serious but lit with something that might just be excitement.

“You sure?” Dan asked, fingers tightening around Phil’s. “Now’s the time to back out.”

Phil swallowed. He stood up a little straighter, feeling awkward in his suit and with his face caked for the first time, but – but here he was at Dan’s side. Dan’s date to a film premiere.

Phil certainly hadn’t imagined this outcome the first time he came across Dan in rainy Manchester, however many moons ago that was. It almost felt like a different life.

He looked Dan right in the eyes and said, “I’m ready.”

Tyler cooed, breaking the moment, and Phil almost glared at him, almost.

Dan, however, just rolled his eyes and pulled Phil in for a careful hug. Phil leaned into him, breathing in his familiar smell, settling his nerves for the final time.

Dan opened the door, and they stepped out together.

The car was waiting downstairs, sleek and black just like the one that had picked them up from the train station. Phil was glad of the tinted windows the closer they got to the centre of town. The crowds outside the car were insane. Phil had been prepared, of course he had, he knew that going to something like this involved lots of people – he’d seen it on tv – but nothing had quite prepared him for the reality of it.

The reality of the cameras he could already see flashing outside the window, the rows and rows of people, and they weren’t even at the red carpet yet.

Dan, ever the attentive boyfriend that he was, slid his thumb across Phil’s fingers where their hands were joined in the back and leaned his head against Phil’s shoulder. “It’ll be quiet once we get into the actual cinema. It’s just the walking in that’s the nightmare.”

“The red carpet, you mean.” Phil’s voice came out sounding far more strangled than he’d expected.

“Yeah. That.” Dan managed a chuckle, somehow. Phil wished he knew where Dan found his calm from. “I’ll do all the talking, though, promise.”

“So I’m just here to smile and look pretty?” Phil did his best to sound affronted. “Is that all you want me for, Howell?”

“Yeah, totally, you’re just here to make me look good.”

“You don’t need any help with that.”

“Shut up.” Dan nudged him with his shoulder. “I’ll be talking about you, anyway. The whole time. Finally get to not shut up about you.”

Phil couldn’t hold back a smile at that. He leaned into Dan, letting out a soft sigh. “Am I really worth all this, Dan?”

Dan wrapped a long arm around Phil’s shoulder and brought him close into his chest. “You’re worth all of this and way more, Phil, and you know it. I’d turn my whole life upside down for you. Well,” Dan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, “You kind of did that yourself, actually.”

Phil sent him a curious look, nestling happily under Dan’s arm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like,” Dan flicked his hair out of his eyes and leaned into him. “I never imagined doing this. Always figured I’d keep as much to myself as possible, stay firmly at a distance, that sort of thing. But then you showed up and made me want to change it – like, you made me want to publicly bicker with you on Twitter and post photos of us everywhere and I really wasn’t expecting that. Never mind all of this,” Dan waved a hand irritably at the cameras flashing outside as the car edged closer and closer, “You made me feel something I never expected to. Pride. Pride in you, and, because you seem to like me, pride in myself, too. That’s what I feel the most right now, even if I’m quietly dying inside. I’m proud of us.”

Phil bit his lip, hard. He swallowed.

Then he leaned in and kissed Dan swiftly, on the lips, even when Tyler had warned them against doing that for fear of smudging their make-up.

When he drew back, Dan looked the best kind of startled.

“I love you,” Phil said, hurriedly. “The most. You know that, right?”

Dan let out a quiet laugh, but he squeezed Phil’s hand tight. “Yeah. Me too, Phil, fuck – you have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Phil disagreed quietly, and squared his shoulders as the car rolled to a final halt. “You ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Dan drew away from him, turning to face him. “Did you smudge me?”

“No,” Phil answered (well, he couldn’t see anything out of place, even if he wasn’t an expert).

“Then let’s go.” Dan squeezed his hand one more time, turned, and pushed the door open, helping Phil out after him.

The sound of the screaming crowd was instantly overwhelming, closely followed by the brightest flashes of light Phil had ever seen. He squinted instantly, shielding his eyes, legs trembling with the fear that crept incessantly through his veins.

For an instant, he was frozen.

Then Dan was there, gently taking his hand, and Phil failed at resisting the urge to lean into him.

“We’ve got this,” Dan murmured to him, squeezing his fingers, and Phil swallowed and found his feet.

He nodded once, looking into Dan’s serious gaze, and summoned up a smile which Dan briefly returned.

Together, they stepped into the lights, hand-in-hand.

[adoremp3]

6. the one with the sleepover

I had been so good at holding myself together, I had been so much stronger than I had thought I would be. But the thought alone of him not even bothering to call me, or send me a single text message to see whether I was okay, set something off inside me — something very sad.

Story Page // Chapter Index

Sunday, 7th of December, 2014

Saturday night had ended up being a quiet one, thanks to Harry and I both supporting massive hangovers and not wanting to move all that much for fear we might actually die. It honestly felt like that considering how ill we felt and how much pain our heads had caused us. Plus, my muscles were kind of aching all day, too (along with my heart). People had come and gone all day, and eventually it just left the two of us alone. It was definitely awkward, neither of us really knowing what to say or do, but eventually we decided we should probably feed our stomachs in an attempt of trying to keep something down. Neither felt like leaving the flat, so we just opted for whatever could be found in my fridge — really, it was only noodles and a few slices of cheese. Everyone was going home for a while, so we hadn’t gone shopping in quite some time, seeing as we wanted to use whatever was left in the fridge before we left for the holidays.

We had considered cereal first, but when realising there was no milk, noodles sufficed nicely, and I was proud of myself for actually keeping them down. We watched some telly for a while, but after a dreadful day, and not going to sleep ‘til almost dawn, we headed off to bed early. I, of course, went to my own room and bed, and Harry set off to Mila’s. I had text Mila asking for her permission first, and she said it was fine — as well as letting me know where her secret stash of condoms was.

And so, Harry and I had woken up bright and early Sunday morning — much earlier than I had been awake on a Sunday in a very long time. I was a uni student, after all.

“Good morning,” Harry greeted me as I walked into the kitchen and found him by the kettle, making himself a cup of tea. “Want one?”

“Sure,” I replied. “There’s some peppermint tea in the cupboard above your head. It’s probably next to the lavender tea.” ‘Probably’ seemed like the right word to make it sound like I was some sort of neat freak, but I only knew its exact location because I had so many different types of tea in the cupboard, that I put them back in the same spot every single time so that I knew where each type of tea was. You could say I was quite a tea enthusiast, or ‘tea freak’ as Mila liked to call me. I felt ‘enthusiast’ was a much nicer word, though.

Harry reached up to the cupboard, and upon opening it he stood back and looked and blinked his eyes in disbelief a few times. “Holy crap, you have a lot of tea.”

I shrugged. “I like tea.”

“I’ve noticed,” Harry exasperated, shaking his head as he still seemed to not believe what he saw in front of his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much tea in my life, but I love it.” He looked at me, showing the pleased look on his face. “You have a great tea collection, Suzy.”

My cheeks flushed pink, even if it was the dumbest compliment. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry ended up making me some tea, while I fluttered around the kitchen to cook us up some toast with an assortment of spreads; jams, peanut butter, nutella, honey, and so on. We didn’t always have proper food, but we made sure we had all the right things for toast. We clearly had our priorities straight.

“Did you sleep all right?” I asked, once I had gulped down a mouthful of toast with just plain butter.

Harry raised his finger as he quickly chewed and swallowed the bite of his own toast, then said, “Yeah, Mila’s bed is quite comfy. Slept like a log, too. I think.”

“Mmm, her bed is nice,” I agreed. “Slept in it a few times, too.” Harry raised a suggestive eyebrow at my comment, to which I quickly added, “Drunken whim, unable to get to my own bed.”

After breakfast, we both got ready for the day. While Harry resorted back to Mila’s room and showered, I went to mine and tousled my hair around to try and give it an effortless look, and put on a little more mascara and lippy than I normally would.

I was already sitting back on a stool in the kitchen, reading some trashy gossip magazine that Violet had left lying around, when Harry wandered back out to the kitchen, running his long fingers through his hair. “Got a spare hair tie?” he asked, frowning. “Seemed to have left one behind.”

“Of course.” I smiled at him, then rushed back off to my room to fetch him one.

“Thanks.” Harry showed his appreciation by flashing me one of his award winning smiles, dimples extremely prominent.

I moved back to the kitchen stool, lifting my feet on top of the step underneath it, and as I looked up I couldn’t help but notice the way Harry was biting onto his bottom lip as he ran his fingers through his hair, and clasped it together with his other hand. I also happened to notice that, just a little bit lower, his white shirt rode up as his arms were above his head, revealing two tattoos on his hips that seemed to resemble some sort of shrubbery.

I was so mesmerised by his revealed skin that I hadn’t even noticed that his arms were back by their sides, and his hair was pulled back into a small bun on the back of his head. I also hadn’t realised that Harry was staring at me, his lips pressed together as he seemed to be waiting for me to say something. Instead, he spoke up, again. “You okay?”

Blinking once, and then once more, I finally nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m good.” I grinned up at him, a little too toothy, but that was just how forced it was. “Ready to go, then?”

Harry’s dimples appeared once more as he flashed me another smile, nodding his head. “Yeah, let’s go see some cool buildings!”

Luck seemed to be on our side — or maybe it was just having Harry Styles on my side — and the sun was shining bright. Albeit it wasn’t warm out, but the sun was out and there were only a few scraggly clouds in the sky, leaving the sun to have a bit of bite in it. Harry went on and on about how much of a beautiful day it was, and just how it was fate that he had decided to stay back with me. He told me that he hadn’t seen a sunny day like this in a while, and that he knew sunny days were going to become even less apparent when the snow hit the country hard in these newly winter months. And, according to him, I was perfect company for him to enjoy the weather with. I totally may have blushed at that comment, but what’s new.

As the morning went on, we walked around the buildings closest to Unity Hall, since they were the ones I saw the most and know their history of the best. While I pointed out certain aspects of the architectures, rambling on about how and why it was made, Harry listened carefully, nodding his head to show him being an active listener. Occasionally, he would play around with his lip, and look up in awe at the old designs. His fascination with the buildings put a smile on my face, and it wasn’t even until we turned around a corner and become face-to-face with two boys making out that I even remembered Jasper and our situation.

Of course this put a quick stunt in my explanation of the building we were looking at, including me fumbling over my words and losing my train of thought, but Harry placed a gentle hand on my back as he looked at me with concerned eyes, asking me if I was okay. I felt this warm feeling inside me knowing that he really did seem to care, and while I wasn’t sure what it was, I actually kind of liked it. I promised him that I was fine, that I just needed a quick breather. It didn’t take us long to fall back into a pattern of me describing him the features and designs of a building, and him standing in awe and occasionally asking questions.

I was also very thankful that most people had gone home already, and that there were only a few scragglers hanging about, because I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to handle Harry being mobbed by a bunch of his fans — or even paparazzi, for that matter. I had seen enough photos and films of people being surrounded by both fans and paparazzi to know well enough that it was something I really did not want to be a part of, but it also made me think about Harry — about how he felt about them, and how he seemed to handle that side of things as well. I decided to add it to my giant list of questions to ask him when the moment seemed right.

By around half twelve, our stomachs were rumbling and so we headed off to one of the small cafes on campus to find ourselves some lunch. We were in the middle of placing our orders when I heard my name being called out by someone behind me. Harry gave me a nod to show that it was okay for me to be social, and that he would deal with our orders himself.

“Suzy! Hello!” the voice called, and upon spinning on my heels I noticed it was one of the girls from the society I was in — a tea appreciation society, that was. I really wasn’t kidding when I said I loved my tea.

“Hey, Anna.” I smiled back at her. Anna was a Norwegian exchange student studying the same course that I was, but at our sister school in Norway. She was already in her third year of study, and so she’d clearly chosen Oxford for her year abroad. “Thought you were going back home to Norway for the holiday’s?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Anna sighed. “I wish I was. Storms are pretty bad back home, so my flight got cancelled,” she informed me, and I felt absolutely horrible for her. If I couldn’t spend time with my family over Christmas I wouldn’t be happy, either.

“Are you going to get another flight?” I asked, feeling so sorry for her.

“Who knows at this point. It’s too early to tell, but one of the girls in my flat has already told me that I can spend Christmas with her and her family if I can’t make it back home.

“That’s so lovely of her.” I smiled at Anna with warm eyes, feeling happier knowing that she wouldn’t completely be alone during what was supposed to be such a happy time. It was at that moment that Harry had finished paying for our meals and turned around to see what was happening behind him this whole time when I finally decided to introduce Anna to Harry. “Anna, this is Harr—”

"Oh my gosh, you're Harry Styles!" she gasped, and he smiled at her as he went to say hello, but the corners of his mouth soon faltered as her hands raised to her mouth in shock. Something about her actions didn’t seem to please him, and it made me wonder whether it was the same reaction that he had witnessed many times on a fan — not that I even knew that Anna was a fan, but now I suddenly felt sorry for Harry for putting him into this situation. He had never said it specifically, but with things he had said and done, it kind of seemed that he’d come to Oxford as a way of getting a break from that side of his life.

"Uh, yeah, that's me," he replied, voice slightly wavering as if in thought, and reached his hand behind his neck, toying with the ends of his hair that had fallen from his bun. "But would you, um — would you mind not telling anyone I'm down here?"

She was in too much of a shock to say anything, but she just nodded in a quick manner to show her agreement. Eventually, once she gained her cool back, she took cheeky photos with Harry — one where he placed his lips to her cheek and one where he had the cheesiest grin — and they chatted for a few moments.

I watched Harry as he talked to her — well, listened more than anything else. His eyes were full of intent, he was nodding his head to show he was an active listener, and I couldn't help but notice the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip at one point. And, after that, I suddenly found myself absolutely fascinated by his lips — which led to me somehow remembering a moment the other night on the balcony where, in my drunken state, I wanted to feel what it was like to have his lips pressed up against mine.

Shaken from my thoughts as Anna placed her hand upon my shoulder, I found myself toying with my own lips without even realising it. "Sorry, what?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said, when you clearly weren't listening to me—” she glared at me and my cheeks flushed red “—what are you to up to? Why are you in Oxford, Harry? And, Suzy, how do you know him?"

"Easy, Anna." I let out an awkward laugh, trying to keep the atmosphere a positive one. Who knew how Harry would answer about why he's in Oxford. He was barely even straightforward with me, though, so I thought I was in the clear. "We're just walking around campus. I'm giving Harry a tour!"

"Oh! Have you shown him the bridge? Everyone likes the bridge."

"The bridge?" Harry quirked an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "No, not yet. Might head there next, though."

"Awesome." She grinned, and we fell into a pit of silence. I could tell Anna was anxious to say something else, maybe ask the questions again that hadn't been answered yet. She then looked up at Harry with a questioning brow. "Weren't you supposed to be in Sweden or Norway or somewhere else this week?"

"Anna," I warned, but Harry raised his hand to show me it was okay.

He smacked his lips together, an uneven smile forming across his lips — the very lips I was still trying awfully hard not to think about. "Yeah, we, uh — we were supposed to be in Sweden, but things didn't go according to plan."

"Oh," came Anna's response, and when seemingly unsure of where to go next, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket to check the time. "Right, well, I am meeting a friend in five, so I better be off, then."

We said our goodbyes to her, Harry being extra nice by giving her a kiss on the cheek goodbye, and sat down at an open table to eat our lunches. Nothing major, just a simple quiche and chips each, but it was probably healthier than the food I had eaten lately, and free — much to my protest. As we lined up and were deciding what to get, I pulled out my purse to make sure I had enough cash on me so that I didn’t have to find an ATM, when Harry insisted on paying for our meals. I tried not to give in so easily, but as the sun twinkled in his eyes and his smile made me feel all sorts of warm things, I ended up putting my purse away. I made Harry promise that I would pay next time, but I had a feeling we would end up in a similar situation once again.

Unfortunately, throughout the duration of our meal, clouds started forming in the sky, and they weren’t fluffy, white clouds, either. The sun that had been shining bright was now hidden behind a dark cloud, and Harry and I had to finish our meals as fast as we could so that we didn’t get stuck in the rain. I had planned on showing him the Hertford Bridge, like Anna had suggested, but thanks to the lack of appropriate outdoors fun weather, we had to change our plans. If the weather was going to be better tomorrow, I would finish showing him around the campus ,then.

Instead, we went a little off-campus and ended up at a small ‘hole in the wall’ type of cinema, which meant it didn’t typically play blockbuster films. Instead, it played films that were a lot more independent and lesser known. It was nice, this cinema was, because not all that many people knew it existed, or just weren’t interested in the kinds of films that were on offer.

Thankfully, when Harry and I rushed inside with our coats over our heads in an attempt to hide from the rain, there was only a handful of people at the venue. Either they hadn’t recognised who Harry was, or just didn’t care, and I was grateful for that. I didn’t think I could cope with being surrounded by a bunch of One Direction fans. Even if I did sit to the side while he did his thing, they would have noticed that we were there together and that would bring on a string of comments that I really did not want to think about. I knew that they would make judgement on me based on my clothes, my hair, my face, and who knew what else. I was already feeling anxious just thinking about it — about what people would think if they saw me out with Harry. I also wondered what Anna thought. I wanted to know what her thoughts were on the matter of Harry and I spending time together — would she be like the general public and assume that just because Harry was spotted with a girl, it instantly meant he was dating her? Or would she just think we were two friends spending some quality time together? Maybe because Harry told her not to tell anyone he was in Oxford she would think that it was because he didn’t want anyone to know he was in a relationship with someone.

I knew I had to get to Anna and straighten things out with her before she made any assumptions based on what she had seen.

“Suzy?”

Shaken from my thoughts, I looked up at Harry with a small smile. “Sorry, what?”

“You all right? You look like you’re thinking very hard, and if it’s about Jas—”

“It’s okay!” I interrupted him, placing a gentle hand upon his arm. “I’m — I’m okay, or will be, at least. Let’s just go and see this movie, yeah?”

The look on Harry’s face told me that there was more he wanted to say, but he nodded his head in agreement instead. “Yeah, okay. Are we getting popcorn?”

“Is that a trick question?” I grinned at him, before shooting past him to make my way to the candy bar. I ordered a large popcorn for us to share between us, because we had both already eaten lunch, but popcorn was a must have at the cinema — as well as a drink each. I ended up paying for it, much to Harry’s displeasure, but we came to a compromise of him paying for our tickets, instead.

Once we mutually decided on a coming-of-age film after reading the synopsis of it, we bought our tickets and set off to the theatre it was held in. Harry tripped up the steps on his way in, and while I couldn’t stop laughing, he had to go back and ask for a refill on his drink, seeing as it was spilt all over the carpet from his fall. He also insisted on cleaning it up himself, but the worker promised him it was part of her job description to do so, and we would miss the movie if we didn’t go inside when we did.

The film started off slow, because I was unable to get into the plot or feeling the characters, and so I spent a third of it munching away on all the popcorn until I realised I had literally eaten most of it myself. I apologised to Harry, but he told me it was all right and that he wasn’t that hungry, anyway. I set the empty popcorn box to the seat beside me, and focussed back on what was happening onscreen.

As I relaxed back into my seat, in an attempt to get comfortable while I tried to enjoy the rest of the film, I placed my hand on the armrest between Harry and I. It couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes before Harry placed his arm on the rest as well, his skin brushing against mine slightly. The warmth the back of his hand against my own sent a shiver down my spine, and within the brief second I glanced over at Harry, I noticed he was so focussed on the film that maybe the warm feeling I felt was only in my head. Maybe I was the only one that felt a tingling feeling up my arm just from the simple touch of his skin — maybe it was all in my head, which really wouldn’t surprise me. So, I sat back in my seat once again, trying to focus on the film.

I wasn’t sure what really happened after that. Somehow I felt myself being able to connect with the lead female character, feeling all the emotions that she felt. When she was happy, I was happy. When she was sad, I began to feel sad. And when she was a complete emotional mess, I was a complete emotional mess. I was trying so hard not to bawl my eyes out along with the character; I did not want Harry to see me crying, but as the character was having a breakdown over the death of her brother, I couldn’t help it.

One tear fell down my cheek, and soon another followed. I was trying my hardest to hide it, so that I didn’t cry too much, because I knew that if I let myself go, then the knot that had been in my chest from the moment Jasper walked out of my room would get even bigger until I burst completely. I had cried a lot that day, but I still couldn’t seem to get rid of this feeling inside me — I had a feeling it wasn’t going to leave until Jasper came back — and I wasn’t about to try while in a public setting.

I blinked my eyes a few times, in an attempt to blink away the tears, but was startled when I felt a sudden warmth clasp over my hand. Looking where my arm was resting, I realised that Harry’s hand was now folded around mine. My breath hitched when I realised what had happened, and a jolt of electricity shot up my arm and straight into my chest.

Glancing over at Harry, still not entirely sure what was happening, I saw the raw emotion in his eyes. He didn’t just have a sympathetic look about him. In his eyes, I saw empathy. He gave me that look that told me that he didn’t just acknowledge my negative emotion, he showed me that he understood it; it was as if he was putting himself in my own shoes. It was a different emotion I got from most people, seeing as majority of the time they would just give me a sympathetic look and tell me it was going to be okay. But not Harry. He was giving me an empathetic look and did not promise it was going to be okay. Instead, he would focus on my feelings. He would encourage me to do things that made me happy, he would try and take my mind of things, and, most importantly, he did not seem to want to talk about the elephant in the room. He wasn’t like most of my friends, and I really did like what he brought to the table.

As I looked at Harry, witnessing the said empathetic look in his eyes, he didn’t say anything. He just flashed me a warm smile, as if to show that he was here for me, and squeezed my hand a little tighter — the shock of electricity shooting right up my arm once more. And after that, he turned his focus back to the screen, and that was how the rest of the film was spent. Hand in hand.

“Is pizza okay?”

Harry shifted his glance from his phone, looking over to the kitchen where I was stood from the couch he was sitting on, and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

“What’s your favourite?” I asked, attempting to look at Harry as I did so, but trying to avoid looking into his eyes.

Neither of us had mentioned the hand holding during our outing to the cinema after we had left, and a few hours had passed since then. If Harry wasn’t going to mention it, then neither was I. Maybe it was just him trying to comfort me as a friend and a friend only. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way I did — whatever that may be. Maybe he just did not feel the same shocking electricity that I did, and that was something I was used to. Not feeling the same way as the other person, that was.

“Either Hawaiian or Barbeque Chicken,” Harry replied, but as a thought seemed to pop into his head, he sat up straighter and a smile appeared on his face. “Or a prawn one! I love it when pizza has prawns.” As he said this, I scrunched my nose up, and he added, “Oh, don’t like prawns, then?”

“Try allergic to them,” I informed him.

“Oh, right…” Harry slumped back into the couch. “Sorry, didn’t realise. Don’t get prawn.”

I chuckled, resting my elbows onto the bench as I leaned forward. “That’s probably a wise idea. You can get it, if you want. Just as long as it doesn’t come anywhere near me.”

Harry just shook his head, though. “Nah, it’s okay. Just get one Hawaiian for me, and then whatever you want.”

“I want a Barbeque Chicken.” I grinned, knowing that he’d be happy with my choice. It was a very nice pizza topping, after all.

Harry also grinned. “Good choice.”

We ordered our pizzas not long after, Harry once again paying even though I tried to challenge him. I ended up giving in, like always. The pizza took a little longer than we had anticipated, too, because the delivery guy got really confused and had no idea where to go once he got to the campus, and so we had to go through the trouble of finding him and it all became a bit of a nightmare. We got the deliciousness in the end, so all was good.

A repeat of Eastenders was on the telly, and while we both agreed it wasn’t the best television out there, we got a laugh out of the dramatics and added a lot of our own commentary. As we watched the show, Harry fiddled around with a few stray pieces of crust on the pizza box, a sudden thought hit me. I sat up a little straighter, looking down at Harry. "Hey," I began, and he twisted his body so that he was looking up at me, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgment. "I have a question, and please don't get mad at me."

I could see the confusion rush through Harry's mind, but he nodded his head, anyway. "Go on."

"Today, when we ran into Anna,” I began, and I could physically see him tense at my comment, and I had a feeling that I was going to regret asking it, “she said something about you were supposed to be in Sweden this week, which you obviously aren't. What's up with that?"

Harry took in a deep breath, and I could tell his mind was beginning to tick over with a million thoughts. He was probably wondering what to say or where to go from here.

"Sorry, shouldn't have asked." I lowered my head, feeling embarrassed about asking him something as personal as I did.

"No, no. It's okay," Harry spoke up, placing his hand upon my knee, and I tensed under the touch of his warm hand. It reminded me of when he held my hand earlier at the cinema, but it wasn't the same electric feeling. Maybe it was just a one time thing, or maybe it was just because he touched my knee, not my hand. "I was, uh — I was supposed to be in Sweden, yeah, but something came up."

I blinked. "Oh."

"It was, um—"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want," I told him.

He just shook his head. "It's okay, I trust you not to spread the word." As he said that, I felt a small flutter in my chest, but I just squeezed my eyes shut tight for a split second, then opened them back up again, trying to ignore the feeling. "I mean, I can't tell you everything, because of legal reasons and whatnot, but... No one knows what goes on behind the scenes — behind the cameras and the stage, you know? No one sees just what goes down."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" I questioned, curling my legs up underneath me as I leant on the arm rest. I was fully interested in what he was saying and about to tell me.

Harry pressed his lips together for a second, his eyebrows creased also as he was in thought. “Both, in a way. Good, because all the fans and media don’t see all the negativity and bad behaviour. But also bad, at the same time, simply because we have the most incredible crew and team while we’re on tour, who put in so much time and effort just to get the show on the road and set up and give us sound and lighting and, well, everything. Those people really don’t get enough credit as they should.”

I listened to him as he went on, telling me all about the great and wonderful things the crew and team do for him. He was right in saying that they really do deserve more credit than they get, but I couldn’t help but fixate on one thing he had said — the good side of things. It was clear that it was good because the fans and media wouldn’t find out what went on behind closed doors, but I had a feeling that it was the complete opposite of good. I had a feeling that it was bad. Very bad.

“And they have to put up with a lot too, you know?” he continued. “Between how hectic things get, and how immature some people can be, they — they really deserve a medal. No, no,” he corrected himself, shaking his head. “They deserve a Nobel Prize, or something. I don’t know how they do it. I can barely even do it, sometimes.”

“Do what?” I finally spoke up, after letting him ramble on for quite some time.

Once more, Harry paused in thought, bringing his two forefingers up to his lips and his eyebrows furrowing. “Just — just being being patient enough with some people who are immature about everything, really. Like, this week we were supposed to be in Sweden for their The X Factor, yeah? We were going to do a performance of our latest single, as well as spend some time with the contestants to give our professional feedback. It was going to be really sick, actually.”

“I’m sure the contestants would have loved that.”

“Yes, yes. It would have been so great for them, especially hearing from people like us who have been in similar situations before,” he went on, shifting his body from the telly so that he was looking at me, instead. “But because, um, because we never released our fourth album last month like we were supposed to, things have been all up in the air. People aren’t happy with us at the moment, Suzy. We promised this album to be out November, yet here we are the following month, and no new album. Because of this, we’re losing things — we’re losing press, we’re losing promotion availability, we’re losing radio time. The list goes on."

Harry’s face didn’t show an ounce of positivity as he spoke, which made me realise just how much this was affecting him, and not in a good way. I could see the way his eyebrows creased as he spoke, showing his frustration with the words that were coming out of his mouth. I could see the way his fingers were picking at the hole in his jeans, as if trying to keep himself busy and pass off what he was saying as if it meant nothing to him. And I could see the way that his eyes did not catch mine once, showing that he didn’t want to look me in the eye — he didn’t want me to see whatever hidden truth or pain was hiding in his eyes. His actions were simple, but I was coming to realise more and more that coming to Oxford wasn’t just for Harry to spend some time with friends; it was a way for him to have a break, get away from everything for a while.

“I’m, uh, I’m so—”

“Don’t say it,” Harry injected, cutting me off before I could apologise. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just feel somebody needs to say it. Don’t know why these things are happening, or who is to blame, but I don’t think an apology is something you hear from them enough, if at all.”

Harry placed his hand back upon my knee, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re such a kind and caring person, Suzy, and I thank you so much for being who you are.” My cheeks flushed red at his comment, and I was unable to hold back a smile. “You are cute, you know that?”

I took in a deep breath, not letting it out until I held my hands up against my cheeks and squeezed my eyes shut. “Stop,” I giggled. “You’re making me blush.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it,” Harry quipped, and as I opened my eyes, I saw the cheeky smile appear across his face. I liked seeing him smile. Even if he wasn’t happy with everything in his life, I knew that he was happy for even the slightest of moments, and it was because of something I did. I was the one that made him happy and I liked it. I liked it a lot.

It was nearing one in the morning when I heard my phone beep from the floor, where it had fallen over an hour ago, but I was far too lazy to pick it up. Harry and I had barely moved all night. I hadn’t questioned him further about what he had told me, either, no matter how much it was making my mind spin. He was sitting at one end of the couch with his legs resting upon a chair he had pulled up, and I was sprawled out across the couch — my head on the headrest, and my legs across his lap. His hands were placed gently across my legs and I wasn’t totally unknowing to the way his thumb would rub back and forth over my leggings.

“Who is texting you at this hour?” Harry asked, removing his attention from the movie as he turned to look at me.

I had no idea who was actually texting me, but my heart began to race when I thought about who it could be. I pulled my legs back from Harry’s lap immediately, and jumped up to find my phone. There was a slight spring in my step, and a smile on my face, as I grabbed my phone in hope that it was Jasper who had text me. But as I picked my phone up off the floor, only to find a message from Mila — she wanted to know if I used her stash of condoms yet, and if I had, could I please replace them — my smile faltered and I flopped back down onto the couch.

“It’s, uh — it’s just Mila,” I replied, sudden good mood already have faded away. I curled up against the armrest, tapping away a quick reply to Mila, and tried to ignore the very concerned stare coming from Harry beside me.

“You were hoping it was someone else, weren’t you?” Harry asked, but we both knew the answer. He didn’t say his name, and he didn’t say how he had come to that conclusion, but he knew. I didn’t say anything, I just rested my chin on my hand in attempt to ignore him, focussing my attention back to the film. Harry, on the other hand, had other intentions, because he added, “Have you even heard from him, yet?”

I didn’t want to say anything, I didn’t want him to say anything. I just wanted him to move on from this topic, but I knew he had so much more to say. He could say what he liked, but I wasn’t going to listen to him — I wouldn’t listen to anyone right now. Whatever ounce of positivity I had in me after the happy events of earlier in the day had been drained from my body. A truck could run over me and I wouldn’t even feel it, I was just that flat.

I had been so good at holding myself together, I had been so much stronger than I had thought I would be. But the thought alone of him not even bothering to call me, or send me a single text message to see whether I was okay, set something off inside me — something sad. So very sad.

“Suzy?” Harry tried again, but I still said nothing. “Suzanne?” Harry tried once more, using my full name. I knew he meant business, but I also couldn’t deny the shiver I felt down my spine as my name left his lips, in his low, husky voice.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, I shifted my glance from the telly to Harry. “Yes?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Harry let out a shaky breath, reaching his arm across to place against my thigh. “Something is wrong. Please talk to me.”

“Got nothing to say,” I quipped, pulling my knees up to my chin.

“I know I’ve said before that I will respect your wishes, but I just want to know what’s going through your mind,” he encouraged, squeezing his hand against my thigh to show he was trying to be comforting, as well as here for me — both physically and figuratively.

“I’m fine.”

“Suzy…”

By this point, I had had enough — enough of him, enough of Jasper, enough of everyone. I was becoming more and more frustrated as the moments passed where Jasper hadn’t even bothered to check in on me, and as Harry’s stare slowly changed from empathy and back to sympathy. He was sorry for me, and I didn’t need for him to be sorry for me. I didn’t need for anyone to be sorry for me.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” I spat out. “That I really am not okay? That there’s a Jasper sized hole in my heart? That if I start crying again, I’m afraid I’ll never stop? Yes, okay, Harry. I’m in a lot of pain, and you would think that I’d be used to it by now. But I’m not — I’m really fucking not."

Harry seemed to be surprised by my sudden outburst, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t move an inch of his body — not even his hand that was still pressed upon my thigh.

As I ranted to him, though, I could feel the very familiar knot rise in my chest. I knew what was coming and I knew that it wasn’t going to be pretty. When I looked directly at him, Harry’s sympathetic glance grew stronger and stronger, and I could feel tears beginning to well up in my eyes. It had hit me hard and it had hit me fast. I couldn’t control myself.

“Suzy, I know you’re not okay now, but may—”

“No, no buts!” I interrupted him, holding my finger out for him to stop. “You just — you’re just sorry for me, and I don’t need your p—pity.”

Shit. My voice had cracked. It was happening.

“C’mere.” Harry, upon noticing my eyes brimmed with tears, gestured for me to come closer to him. “Please let me hold you.”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I don’t n—need you, and I d—don’t need Jasper.”

“Please, let me try and make you feel better,” Harry begged.

I shook my head, trying to force out the word ‘no’, but as the knot just kept on rising, I was unable to speak — unable to do anything, except hit Harry in the chest with my fists as he tried to pull me in closer to him. I shook my head fiercely and loud sobs escaped from my lips, as well as many tears from my eyes.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around me as my hands slowly began to unclench and I gradually stopped hitting him. “I’m here, Suzy. I’ve got you now.”

After that, I cried and cried and cried into his chest. Letting out all the anger and sadness I held within after the events of the past few days, my feelings over the past few months, and all other feelings that had been bottled up over time. I had reached my peak and couldn’t handle anymore. I had bottled my feelings up for far too long, until they had finally all come spilling out. I guess they were due to come out eventually, but I was just thankful Harry was there to catch me as I fell.

He whispered words of comfort and kindness in my ear, holding me tighter and tighter every time I whimpered and cried harder. I balled up a fist with the front of his shirt and no doubt had given him a patch of tears and mascara on his chest, but I just didn’t care — and he didn’t seem to, either. He just held me tight, promising me over and over again that he was going to be here for me, no matter what.

[rephil]

The One Where Phil Dates Dan

TW: Mentions of self loathing, cursing?? I guess Word Count: 7712 Genre: Fluff Prompt: dontforgettosmile (AO3)

Summary: It's been a long time since Dan last dated someone. Eight years, to be exact. Phil offers that they go on a date, to save each other from the dreadful feeling of being alone. But no homo though.

READ ON AO3

I may or may not be accepting prompts it depends do u want a fic next year let me know

Author’s Note: This promt was sent an entire year ago! Yikes! I've been struggling to write this because of school, but since its summer again, I finally got to finish it! Ey! 

Also listen, this was meant to be a sad ending™ fic but I love yall!! Didn’t say it’s a good ending tho it’s pretty rushed and shitty so yea enjoy

Dan knew it was a bad idea to lurk around his old friends’ profiles right before he deleted his Facebook. It made him feel insecure of himself since they had all these accomplishments and great things going on for them, while he was stuck in the same thing for about seven years now. Sure, Dan enjoyed making Youtube videos, and his (and Phil’s) fanbase was really strong, but he still had that tinge of fear that one day, all of it will be lost and he will have nowhere else to fall back on. Phil kept reassuring him that nothing bad will happen to them in the near future, but the thought still left Dan sleepless at night.

But other than that, in a less existential tone, Dan felt pretty salty about people's relationships. Every time he scrolled through Facebook, he found people bragging their love and security right before his very eyes; it is what made him want to quit Facebook in the first place (his personal Facebook, at least). People would freak out if his “danisnotonfire” account vanished in thin air. But in his private account, Dan hated scrolling through pictures of flowers one of his uni friends received from their dates, or pictures of weddings of high school acquaintances he never bothered unfriending, or videos of his friends from his old job showing their baby’s first few steps. They made Dan realize how lonely he was, and how long it had been since he was ever serious with someone.

Upon scrolling further down his timeline, Dan saw a picture of the last person he wanted to see right now; the first and only serious relationship he had in his entire life, Sarah Wickham. She got married last Saturday and just posted an album with 100 HD pictures of the entire wedding thirty minutes ago.

People thought she and Dan were cute together after playing Romeo and Juliet at uni, so they just decided to give their relationship a chance. They actually hit it off for the most part. They were both very much into acting, hence being in the school play, and they had a lot of interests in common. He was actually surprised about how extensive her knowledge was in Muse discography.

The only downfall to their relationship was the choices Dan made, which was watching YouTube videos. Not that she minded, of course; she enjoyed watching Smosh as much as he did. But by falling into the pit of YouTube, Dan met the first person to ever make him question his sexuality: Phil Lester.

Funny enough, Dan and Sarah had so much in common that they both found Phil attractive (although Dan was less vocal about it). They would tune in to his new uploads and watch them together, even following him on all his other social media. However, the only difference was that Sarah was a casual fan while Dan literally dove right up Phil’s ass, if that was possible.

Dan would comment as soon as he uploads a video to guarantee that Phil noticed him, doing the same for the rest of his social media, while Sarah simply liked a tweet she found funny. Dan basically devoted more time impressing Phil than impressing his girlfriend, and Sarah noticed that way before Dan did. They broke up the second Dan brought up that he was meeting Phil in Manchester the following week.

Dan found it funny that technically, he's still in the same position he was seven years ago. Still the same fanboy obsessing over Amazingphil and still stuck in the abyss that is Youtube. Only this time, he's actually living with his idol and gets paid for being on Youtube. Others would think that Dan was living the dream, but he just felt like he wasn't doing anything serious in his life. But that wasn't exactly the most pressing issue he had at the moment. That was a crisis for next time.

Did he still like Phil? Dan didn’t have a concrete answer at the moment. Sure, his cringey obsessed fanboy phase died down somewhere around 2012 when people won’t shut up about it, but the admiration was still there. He’d still anticipate Phil’s posts, despite the fact that he’d talk about it to Dan beforehand.

Did he still like Sarah? Obviously not. But when he realized that she was the last person that Dan had ever gotten into a relationship with speaks volumes on how terrible his social life was. Seeing her live a stable life felt like being smacked with a brick. It’s like telling him that he didn’t do anything with his life at all. And did that stop Dan from viewing every single picture in her album? Definitely not.

Phil must’ve noticed Dan’s sour expression and asked, “Are you okay, Dan?”

Dan snapped out of his stupor and looked over to Phil, whose eyebrows were pulling closer by the second. Phil’s stern expression looked almost like how Dan’s mother looked, and it made him grow conscious of his current position, what he’d call his ‘browsing position’, so he sat up. His mother constantly scolded him about his posture, that he would have osteoporosis by the time he's thirty. She was right.

“I’m fine,” Dan chuckled, “just can’t read the small text in this thing, that’s all.” He gestured to the hypothetical text he couldn’t read to look convincing, but they lived with each other for so long, Phil obviously knew Dan was fibbing.

“If it helps, press command and the plus sign to make the text bigger,” Phil mumbled, returning his attention back to his own laptop. It was filled with dozens of stickers he picked up from random places, probably adding a whole gram to its weight. As a stark contrast, Dan’s laptop was super clean; he'd use some cleaning agent to get rid of the sweat and dust it accumulated the whole week.

“Thanks,” he said half-heartedly, but didn’t do it. He decided to give lurking a rest, and decided to go to Tumblr for his daily dose of memes. He's seriously going to procrastinate deleting his Facebook.

Dan leaped a foot up his seat when his laptop produced a loud notification sound that pierced through the quiet room. He looked for the source of the sound from the immense number of tabs opened in his window and found it in his Facebook tab. It was a message from Phil.

can you read your text now, grandpa??

Dan glared at him, but Phil was too busy with whatever he’s doing to even notice him. He typed up a response and slammed the enter key.

stfu... which one of us has a receding hairline?

“Rude,” Phil replied audibly, earning a chuckle from Dan. It was an unspoken fact that Facebook was for old people. No one probably used it as their main source of enjoyment anymore since their parents might be lurking around to see what they were up to, just like what Phil was doing, essentially. Having both Dan and Phil online on their personal Facebooks may prove they are approaching old age.

Thanks to Phil, Dan lingered back to Sarah’s wedding album and decided to click on her profile to see more of what she was up to. He scrolled through all her achievements, from job promotions to weight loss to pet adoption, and he actually felt proud of her. What ticked him off were all the posts of her and her fiance- now husband- and all the cute things they were doing together. Dan wanted to experience them too.

A notification disturbed his grumbling again, which led him to mute his laptop once and for all, and looked over to see that Phil sent him another message.

you’re obvs not trying to read small text… wats up?

Dan clicked on the message box and typed,

Facebook is making me hate people

A few moments later, Phil responded,

same... why tho?

Dan realized Phil was literally sitting a few feet away from him, so Dan decided to just talk out loud. He was too lazy to type. “Its making me realize that I’m not doing anything with my life.”

Phil sighed, giving Dan an apologetic look. He knew that look; Phil usually gave it to him when he was about to give Dan a really long preppy speech.

“Dan, it’s perfectly fine to fe—”

Dan chuckled, cutting him off and saying, “I meant my social life, Phil.” He corrected himself, “Or dating life, I guess. The last time I had a proper date with someone was when I was at uni.”

Phil raised his eyebrows condescendingly, and Dan wanted to chuck a pillow at him. It was pathetic enough that Dan’s last relationship was literally just forced by people from drama club. He obviously had himself to blame for cowering at the thought of leaving the house, but he also wanted to blame Phil for that too. He was the apparent downfall of Dan’s heterosexuality and the chance he had of meeting someone else.

“We can always set up a Tinder profile for you,” Phil suggested, as if it was that simple.

“Are you crazy, Phil?” Dan whispered, almost as if someone was listening to them right now. “What if a fan sees it?”

“Then you can go date a fan,” Phil mused, giggling to himself. When Dan shot Phil a glare, he pouted and said, “Well, guess not. I would suggest going outside and meeting people like it’s the dark ages, but you won’t be too keen on that.”

It was as if Phil was reading his thoughts. Dan sunk into his sofa crease and accepted his fate. Unless his parents married him off to some royalty from another kingdom, Dan would be left rotting in a flat making videos about all the rest of his other misfortunes.

“I have an idea!” Phil said suddenly, making Dan yelp. “Why don’t I take you out?”

Figuratively, Dan would’ve spat his drink.

“Erm,” Dan started slowly. He didn’t want to look at Phil in the eye yet. This might be one of Phil’s disturbing jokes where he’s trying not to laugh. “What?” When he looked at Phil, he was dead serious.

“Ya know,” Phil said as he shrugged, “I’m gonna take you to eat someplace nice.”

Dan rolled his eyes and said “Yeah, sure.” He wasn't having it with Phil's jokes.

But it made Dan wonder if Phil was seeing someone. He probably wasn’t, being that the only times he ever went out of the house was with Dan, running some errands, or making a lame attempt at jogging to stay healthy. It would be a far stretch to assume that Phil went on a date at some point and telling Dan that he did the latter two instead, after all, there weren’t any secrets between them.

Because between the two of them, Phil was more sociable and friendly. People would love to date him. It wouldn’t be a surprise to find out that Phil has actually been dating someone for three years under Dan’s nose.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the night, mumbling occasionally about something funny they saw on their Tumblrs. Phil was supposed to be editing a video right now, but Dan wasn’t one to scold him to do it; he procrastinates editing all the time too.

Dan retreated to bed a few hours later. It was already 2 AM and his eyes are difficult to keep open. He mumbled an incoherent ‘goodnight’ at Phil, who grunted softly in reply, and trudged to his room with his laptop tucked underneath his arm.

Dan would be a terrible boyfriend. He’d forget saying goodnight to his partner, probably even forget to text them for an entire week. He should include it in the hundred number of reasons why he didn’t have a lovelife.

Phil was usually the first person to wake up in the morning, despite the fact that they hated getting up early. Phil had to sacrifice his sleep in order to pee, then he couldn’t will himself to sleep after that. Usually Phil would prepare his breakfast and make some for Dan too, but the flat was dead quiet. There wasn't bustling sounds of spatulas scraping frying pans. Either Dan woke up too late or too early this morning.

When Dan unplugged his phone to check the time, it was nine AM. Too late then. He decided to just check his social media before starting the day, which meant checking his social media on his laptop instead of his phone. Just as he watched a vine in a low volume, the doorbell unexpectedly rang, and Dan’s heart pounded rather violently in his chest.

“Phil! Get the door!” Dan yelled, not wanting to separate himself from his toasty bed just yet, but the doorbell kept ringing. He kept calling Phil, but no avail. Was he out jogging? Dan assumed whoever was at the door was just delivery guy, but he usually gave up after buzzing three times. This one seemed persistent.  

Begrudgingly, Dan stood up and put on the shirt he wore last night, heading to the front door.

“I’m coming!” he mumbled, ruffling his hair to make it a bit decent.

When Dan opened the door, it was just Phil. “Good morning!” he chirped, with a big smile on his face. He was all dressed up and had his left hand behind his back. Dan felt drained as he watched Phil being so energetic after he just woke up.

“Phil?” he sighed, “You locked yourself out again?” He walked back inside, considering getting cereal for breakfast. That is, if Phil didn’t finish it yet.

“No, actually. I'm here to pick you up on our date, remember?” Dan turned his back and Phil showed what he was holding from behind his back, which was a single red rose, and held it out for Dan.

He took a step back. “Wait, you were serious?” He thought he made it pretty clear he was being sarcastic when he said “yeah, sure”. Dan took the rose anyway and tossed it on their coffee table, as if it was radioactive.

“You weren't?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Dan tried to point out the obvious. “Phil, our fans. What if they see?”

He shrugged. “We can just say we're going as friends. We don't exactly have have to do all the lovey dovey stuff,” Phil replied, like it was no big deal. Dan thought he knew better than to underestimate their audience.

It was nice of Phil to try making him feel better about the whole dating thing, but Dan was completely over it. “Phil, you don’t have to push this. I’m fine”

Phil laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “But, I kind of made plans for today already.”

Dan pinched his brow and sighed. “How long did you stay up last night exactly?”

“Long enough to find the best place to have brunch in Central London.”

And to pick out a nice outfit, apparently. Phil picked a green plaid shirt, black jeans, and brown combat boots, all of which Dan never saw before in his life. Phil didn’t wear new clothes unless its for a meet and greet or a new video, but then again, did Phil ever do anything else besides that?

“We can just eat brunch here. Honestly, Phil, I don't care about the dating thing anymore,” Dan said, crossing his arms.

“But the place I found looked so cool, ” Phil whined, slumping his shoulders. “Besides, we aren’t doing anything else right now so we might as well go.” Phil did puppy eyes, just because he perfectly knew that Dan can never resist them.

“Fine,” Dan grumbled. “But let me take a shower first.”

“Okay,” Phil said meekly, placing his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet. It creeped Dan out.

“Phil, what the hell are you doing?”

Tilting his head to the side, he answered, “Waiting.” He reminded Dan of those creepy girls wearing vintage dresses and pigtails in horror movies. The ones that made him keep every single light on for the sake of keeping his sanity.

“Why aren’t you sitting down?” he sputtered.

Phil shifted his gaze between Dan and the sofa. “Well, I have manners. I won’t sit unless you let me.”

Dan glared at him and said, “Phil, you fucking live here.”

Phil leaned his head, looked to the left and to the right as if someone was listening to them, and whispered, “Pretend we just met today.”

Dan scoffed. He thought Phil was supposed to take him out… as Phil? Phil was always one to make up a bunch of personas whenever he had the opportunity. Dan found it so endearing,  which is why he always went along with all of them anyway. “Okay, person I just met ,” he said, as if reading from a paper, “You may sit.”

His roommate scowled. “That’s the worst acting ever, Dan.”

Dan smiled coyly, and before turning to leave, he says, “I’m getting ready first, and I’ll be there in a minute. Do you want anything?”

Phil sat back on the couch and said, “A date with you would be amazing.”

Dan was taken back. Was Phil seriously this smooth? He laughed nervously and tried to counter him with the same tone, but failed. “Yeah, that… can be arranged.” Then he did the worst thing he could possibly do: finger guns.

He mentally slapped himself in the face. If this wasn’t Phil, then his date would make their way straight to the door and leave.

Dan took a quick shower that probably lasted two minutes. He went to dry his hair, not even bothering to straighten it like he used to. What took him so long was the time he spent to decide what clothes to wear. He was conscious about picking his clothes since Phil looked great.

Dan immediately scolded himself. This is just Phil, dammit. This wasn’t even a real date. This was just a “hey you’re lonely and I’m bored let’s go out” type of thing and nothing more. Phil is probably just taking him to a McDonalds and buy breakfast platters and go home. This is probably even nothing to him.

And yet, it took Dan about ten minutes to decide if he should use the moth shirt or one of the several black jumpers he owned. He checked the weather app for the billionth time to check that it was, in fact, sunny outside. Because if that’s the case, he will wear a thinner jacket.

He settled for a gray jumper, his usual black jeans, and the shoes he owns with lots of zippers on them. He checked himself on the mirror, fixing his curls to make sure they were all in the right place. He took his cologne, aggressively sprayed in front of him and stepped into its mist.

He quickly jogged back to the lounge, where Phil sat playing Crossy Roads. Dan didn’t blame him, Dan did take a long time to get ready: forty minutes to be exact. Dan cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

“Hey! You’re done,” Phil exclaimed as he turned to look at Dan, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He stood up and gestured to Dan. “Looking good, as always.”

Dan felt a tingle of heat spread on his cheeks, and he mentally pinched himself for it. He kept repeating “ It’s just Phil. It’s just Phil ” over and over in his head, but Phil's words continued to have an effect on him. Dammit. Dan tried to play it off by saying, “Let’s go. The city of London awaits.”

The weather app lied. It felt like there was a tornado outside.

Dan was relieved he didn’t waste his time straightening his hair at all, it would’ve been ruined anyway. The wind propelled everything that was lighter than a bottle of water off the ground, even Dan’s phone almost got carried away. He looked over at Phil, who was just as concerned for his hair as Dan, and giggled. Phil's fringe swooped up, revealing his massive forehead, and Dan was too conscious of his own hair to make fun of Phil’s.

They managed to make it to the tube station all in one piece. Phil led the way, brisk-walking to the train that just arrived by the platform with Dan running closely behind him. Although Dan was taller and had longer legs than Phil, Dan couldn’t walk just as fast as him. Probably because of all that jogging Phil was doing.

When they finally situated themselves on the seats closest to the doors, Dan let out a huge sigh of relief. He felt like he just ran in a marathon.

“Where are we even going?” Dan wheezed, still trying to catch his breath while surveying the scene. The trolley wasn’t very crowded anymore since people usually get off at the station before theirs, and looking all around, there didn’t seem to be people that would’ve been one of their followers.

Phil must’ve arrived to the same conclusion since he didn’t have to whisper when he said, “It’s a surprise! This would be really boring if you knew exactly what we’re doing.”

“Is that what you think?” he quipped, “You want dates to be a surprise for you?” Dan lowered his voice a bit just in case.

“Yeah,” Phil responded, smiling in thought. “I don’t really want to know where I’m going because I’m gonna make a bunch of scenarios and get my standards up, you know?”

He did have a point, especially since Dan usually over thought anything that may or may not happen to him. His scenarios were usually for the worst, however, to avoid exactly what Phil said. Dan envisioned everything that could possibly go wrong given a situation, so maybe he didn’t have to worry about raising his standards up. In fact, Dan would be surprised if things went well for him.

But regardless, he wanted to know exactly what will happen in a date. Dan told Phil that he wanted to be mentally prepared for whatever was coming for him. Phil laughed silently and shook his head, just as the train slowed to a stop and the doors opened.

“I promise I won’t take you anywhere you won’t like,” Phil reassured him over the sound of people hopping off and hopping on the train. They didn’t bother talking while people transitioned in and out of the car, too lazy to try to talk over the noise. They waited until the doors closed and the train slowly marched ahead.

“If it makes you feel any better, I can give you some hints.”

“Fire away.”

He held a finger up and pointed on it with his other hand. “Well, you already know, but as a refresher: we’re getting brunch, since I’m assuming that you’d probably still be asleep for the next five hours if I didn’t ring the doorbell.”

Dan scoffed. “Correction: I’d probably still be in bed for the next five hours if you didn’t ring the doorbell.”

Phil gave him a look and continued, counting a second finger, “ And then,” he paused for a moment, watching Dan’s face for any sort of speculation. Phil finally said,”We’re going home.”

Dan snickered and pushed Phil with his shoulder. He expected a long, well thought out plan. The good thing was, Phil wasn't taking Dan to McDonalds. He hoped.

They passed three other stops before Phil declared that the next one was going to be theirs. Phil patted Dan on the knee and stood up, leading the way out of the station. The wind wasn’t as bad as it was a while ago, but Dan still had to place his hands on his hair to avoid it turning into a huge bushy mess.

Phil looked back at Dan and smiled at him. “Just take a left here,” and mimicking the voice of their GPS, he added, “and in fifty meters, your destination will be on the left.”

Dan snorted, following Phil’s directions. Phil walked a little bit ahead of Dan to go by the door and to open it, gesturing for Dan to go inside. Dan softly thanked him and stepped into the restaurant, with Phil following suit.

“Wow, Phil, you did a really good job finding this place,” Dan said as they situated themselves in a booth by the wall, but not too far back in the restaurant in case someone saw them and drew speculations.

A waiter wearing a crisp black uniform appeared before them and handed them menus, asking if they wanted something to drink. Phil opted for lemonade while Dan chose hot coffee.

Dan was fairly impressed with the selection of food; he would try them all if he was able to. Some dishes were a bit unfamiliar to him, but it wasn’t something Google can’t help him with.

“Find anything you wanna order?“ Phil asked, peeking over from his menu.

“Still browsing,” he replied.

“I'm just having what you're having.”

Dan smirked. “That’s so lazy. So if i buy an entire cheese platter, would you eat it with me?”

“Maybe don't be a piece of shit,” Phil said, rolling his eyes.

Dan faked a gasp and placed his hands on his chest. “Phil! Language .” It earned him a laugh.

Their waiter arrived with their drinks and a set of cream and sugar. As he settled them on the table, he decided to take their orders. Dan ended up ordering white pasta instead of a cheese platter, so Phil did the same. Phil also decided to get potato bombs since they looked great in the picture. When the waiter left, Dan put half the cup of cream and two sugar cubes into his coffee, stirring it slowly.

“So, when was the first date you've ever had?” Phil asked, twirling his straw in the glass.

Dan thought about it and sighed at the memory, explaining, “The first and only date I ever had was forced by my friends at uni, so I won't really hold it to any standards.”

“I see,” Phil responded solemnly.

In attempt to lighten the mood, Dan said, “Which is why I need some protips from you.”

Phil smirked. “Don't you mean editing tips?”

“Don't say that thing ever again,” he deadpanned.

“Well, the last time I ever dated someone was 2009.” Dan, being Phil trash number one, remembered that. “So my most popular pickup line is that I have a youtube channel.”

“Really? And they're impressed with that?”

“Well 70,000 subscribers was probably bigger than the population of Manchester, so I guess they were! They'd even ask for a shout out from me, but there's just too many of them. I can’t fit them all in one video.”

“Oh, you poor famous man,” Dan cooed mockingly. “But that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid though, my dates knowing that I have a youtube account.”

“Your channel isn't exactly hush hush right now. Even if they aren't fans of you, they might’ve recognized you from somewhere.”

Dan sighed. “Exactly.”

“Oh, you poor famous man,” he imitated Dan.

“Shut up.” He kicked Phil’s legs from under the table. “What else do you have?”

Phil rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb, as if he was thinking of something scholarly. But really, he was just thinking of dating tips. They were both pretty much rusty in that department since it has been so long after all. All of the good moves in 2009 were probably corny and bad in 2017.

Phil finally leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table, and said, “I would go and ask them about themselves.” He gestured towards Dan before placing his hands under his chin. “Then I would look at them like this.” Phil tilted his head to the side, hooded his eyes, and smiled.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and cringed. “Yeah, did they all run away?”

It was Phil’s turn to kick Dan from under the table. He slumped back on his seat and said, “Shut up. They loved it.”

Dan snorted. “See how well that went for you.”

Before Phil could retort, the waiter came with a basket of bread and a bowl with about six servings of butter. It was both their favorite part of eating. Dan took the napkin on his plate and placed it on his lap, with Phil following suit. They each took a slice of bread and Phil jokingly stole the bowl of butter. Dan tried to steal it from his hands, but Phil placed it on his seat and stuck his tongue out at Dan.

As they ate, Dan had the urge to take his phone out, but he knew that was being rude. From all the countless articles he read about dating, despite the fact that never got to use any of them in real life, he knew that he should focus on his date and his date only. The most prominent dating tips those articles had to offer was that he shouldn’t take his phone out and that he shouldn’t talk about himself too much, which Dan honestly thought was common sense. But turns out not everyone thought it was.

“Have you posted your evil piano teacher video?” Phil asked as he grabbed a second slice of bread and returned the bowl of butter on the table. “I need to post the pastel video. People can’t wait.”

Dan shrugged. “I’m still debating about whether or not should I put a clip of me actually playing the piano somewhere.” He took two more slices of bread because he was sure that Phil would finish the entire basket without Dan realizing it.

Phil smiled, taking a huge bite off his bread. “You should! People will love it. I always hear you play, and you’re quite lovely.”

As usual, Dan tried to hide that he was flustered with humor as he said, “But I haven’t met you before! How did you know that I play the piano.” Phil bit his lip and smiled, which didn’t exactly help Dan’s case at all. “But thanks. I’ll try.”

As Phil finished the bread on his hands, he raised his eyebrows in realization. “Oh! You can put it in like a split screen, while you’re talking or something.”

Dan nodded his head slowly. “Sure, probably at the beginning or the end.” He dropped another sugar cube into his coffee and stirred it again.  “I might need some help with it though. It’s been a long time since I last did split screen.”

Phil winked. “Don’t worry, I can give you those editing tips tonight if you want.”

“What did I tell you, Phil?” Dan said with an exasperated tone.

“Okay, Danny boy.”

They continued to talk about failed previous dates, not as if there was much to add anyway, and their appetizer came about five minutes later. Dan thought they looked, well, appetizing. Ten perfectly symmetrical balls were stacked on a plate with a little bowl of white sauce on the side. The balls had a dark brown color and they had red and green seasoning and a little bit of cheese sprinkled on top of them. Dan took his phone out to take a snapshot of it — he’s sure Phil wouldn’t mind.

Dan even handed his phone to Phil and requested, “Hey, can you take a picture of the potato balls? I wanna take a picture of it in all angles.”

Phil rolled his eyes and turned the plate 180 degrees around. “There’s your different angle.”

Dan scowled. “But it still looks different in your end! With all the lighting and shit.”

“Fine,” he huffed, holding out his hand to get the phone. He turned the plate back to its original position and took a few pictures at each side of the plate, before handing Dan’s phone back to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, skimming through the gallery to check if either one of them were visible in the photos.

If he or Phil decided to post the pictures, he didn’t want the other to be visible in them. He knew that their fans had really keen eyes. Dan remembered the time when he posted a picture of the sundae he bought with Phil for national ice cream day. The corner of Phil’s sleeve was visible on the edge of the picture, and people kept speculating about it. The comments were filled with people asking if it was a date.

Not that Dan minded this, of course. He was perfectly fine with people shipping him with his best friend, mostly because he agreed with them, but he wasn’t completely sure if Phil did as well. Dan could always answer those questions with sarcasm or a witty joke, but he was afraid that he would be see through, and not even Phil would be convinced.

Dan had to scroll through several comments to find a safe one to answer like “Was the ice cream good?” or “Happy national ice cream day!” From then on, he decided to just avoid possible hints that they are together, even if it won’t completely get rid of the speculation.

Dan realized he was holding on his phone for too long. Despite the number of notifications he had from his social media, he fought his urge by turning it off and shoving it back in his pocket. He felt the Cosmopolitan article called Top 10 Biggest First Date Turn-offs haunting him and reminding him how to be a good date, even if this wasn’t really a real one.

Phil apparently ate two potato balls already, so Dan popped two consecutive ones into his mouth, so they were even. He felt bad for using his phone for longer than he should’ve, so he asked:

“Hey, Phil? Was that… a turn off?” Dan had no idea what to call it, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. The confused look on Phil’s face made Dan realize how stupid his question was. He elaborated, “I mean like, using my phone on our… date?”

Phil shook his head and took another potato ball and dipped it into the white sauce. Dan completely forgot about it. “No, I don’t mind. I know you were just checking the pictures.”

“Well, what if I was someone else? Like, I don’t know, Sarah Michelle Gellar?”

Phil scoffed. “You know I wouldn’t mind anything if I’m dating either you or Sarah Michelle Gellar . ”

Dan scrunched his nose in frustration and said, “Well what if you were dating someone you don’t know?”

Phil thought for a moment before replying, “I mean, I guess I’d be a little irked if they used their phone too long.” Dan took a potato ball, this time with the dip, as Phil added, “But you know, I can’t imagine myself dating anyone else besides you or Sarah Michelle Gellar,” which prompted Dan to choke.

He kept coughing, and he couldn’t seem to stop. Phil was starting to get worried, so he pushed Dan’s glass of water towards him. Dan attempted to take a sip of water, which helped him a bit. Sarah Michelle Gellar has always been a “given” answer when people asked Phil “who would you take out on a date?” but it has never been Dan. He cleared his throat and gritted, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Phil opened his mouth to reply, but the waiter came with their food. He shrugged as the waiter dropped two identical dishes on their table. He asked if everything was in order before dashing off to the the table next to them to take their orders.

Phil cleared his throat before saying, “I don’t know, I guess it’s just because it’s Sarah Michelle Gellar . I’ve been thinking about dating her since I was seventeen.” He took his fork and twirled it into his pasta. Was that it?

“Also we’re here, right now, and it’s perfectly fine because, you know...” His voice trailed off and he took the pasta to his mouth, chewing slowly. He laughed and shook his head. “You’re my friend! It just feels kinda weird thinking about dating someone else when I haven’t been doing it for a long time.”

Dan felt his heart sink. With the steadiest voice he could muster, he said, “Oh. Well, that’s true.” He took his own fork and started digging into his pasta, only remembering that he had to take a picture when it was too late. He decided that he just won’t post anything anymore.

Dan wanted to slide lower into his seat and rot under the table for the next ten years. He kept telling himself stupid stupid stupid for thinking that Phil meant something else — that he actually liked dating Dan, and wanted to keep going. He can’t believe himself for even assuming.

But Dan still made the effort to act as if nothing happened. He suppressed his feelings for Phil since they first met because he hasn’t fully come to terms with his sexuality, but despite coming to terms with it now, didn’t make any difference. He was still the same old Dan inside out. Still the same weak piece of shit.

Dan dropped his fork onto the dish and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’m full,” he declared, taking a sip of his already cold coffee. Phil was a fast eater, so he was just about to take his final bite of pasta.

“Should I ask for the check?” Phil tried to say through his mouthful, but Dan understood, and he nodded. Phil tried to make eye contact with their waiter, waving his arms around whenever he looked at their general direction. It took Phil a few minutes to succeed.

The waiter dropped the bill on their table and took their plates, asking them if they enjoyed their meal. Both of them gave unenthusiastic responses, but the waiter didn’t seem to mind. As he left, Phil reached for his wallet, and took out his credit card. Dan followed suit.

“So, how are we gonna split this bill?” Dan asked as he fumbled for his credit card within his wallet full of random receipts and cards. He should really consider sorting it out.

Phil pushed Dan’s hands away and placed his own credit card on top of the bill. “No, I’m paying for the whole thing.” In a softer voice, he added, “This is a date, remember?” Dan decided it was best not to argue.

They took a taxi home since neither of them had the energy to do all the leg work, plus it was raining this time. They didn’t have an umbrella with them, which got them drenched as they hopped in and out of the taxi. Fuck London weather.

When they trudged through the second flight of stairs towards their flat, Phil said, “So, what did you think of our date? What was your favorite part? Would you recommend it to a friend?”

Dan said, through deep breaths, “The date was nice, I guess. Great location. Great food,” he added, in a lower voice, “Great you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, because I did too.”

Dan was running out of breath, but it didn’t stop him from making a sarcastic comment. “I’m glad you did, Dora. My favorite part was when we went to the huge ass piñata.” Phil just giggled.

When they finally approached the door to their flat, Dan leaned on the wall as he fumbled for the keys in his pockets. He lazily unlocked the door, tossing the keys onto the coffee table as soon as he went in. He looked back, realizing that Phil remained outside the door. Dan knew better than to ask why wasn’t he coming in.

“What? No goodbye kiss?” Phil asked, leaning against the doorframe and pouting.

Dan rolled his eyes. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for pretending again. “If you don’t come in, I’m literally slamming the door at your face.” He walked back and held onto the doorknob, taunting Phil that he was gonna do it any second now. There was no way Phil was serious about kissing him.

“Come on, Dan. You gotta experience all the first date basics.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Dan asked, “Is it completely necessary to kiss on the first date?”

Phil shrugged. “It’s how you know if a second date is on the table.”

“You’ll know it if the date went well,” Dan argued.

“Well, if Sarah Michelle Gellar was terrible snogger, which is highly unlikely, I won't go for a second date.”

Dan thought about it for a few seconds before he released a forced sigh. “Fine. You’re the expert, after all,” Dan said casually, even if in reality, his blood was running cold inside him. He willed his feet to take a step closer towards Phil, and stared at him straight in the eye.

Phil was the first to lean in. He didn’t have to crane his neck upwards; Dan’s posture was so bad that they had the same height. As their lips met, Dan’s heart pounded against his chest — he was afraid that Phil could feel it too. His brain short circuited that he was basically just as useful as a pile of mush. The only thoughts that ran in his head was how soft Phil’s lips were, and how fantastic he was at snogging. If this was the real thing, Dan would be begging for a second date.

Dan broke away first, gasping for air and keeping his eyes shut while he tried to regain his bearings. When he did open his eyes, he saw Phil watching him with a dark look in his eyes. The silence was unbearable; the only sound heard was of the radiator humming softly in the background. Dan could hear his own blood roaring in his ears.

“Phil,” Dan croaked, losing his voice as his eyes lingered down to Phil’s faintly pink lips.

Phil huffed and pushed Dan further into the flat to let himself in, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed Dan by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a bruising kiss, and it felt so much more mind-blowing than the previous one . Dan felt himself being pushed backwards until his back hit the wall, which benefitted Dan a lot because his legs were probably about to give out as Phil nibbled roughly at Dan’s lower lip. Dan laid his palms flat on the wall as he tried to fight the urge to thrust his hips upward, but Phil’s ministrations were playing with his hormones. He felt like a teenage boy again.

Dan whined embarrassingly as Phil broke away. He took a full step back and smiled cockily at Dan, running his thumb over Dan’s lip. “That’s how you kiss on a first date.”

Dan groaned, slumping on the wall and covered his face with his hands. He babbled incoherently, “ Wha ? First date? That?”

“The first one was,” Phil answered nonchalantly.

Dan dropped his hands to his sides and lowered his gaze to Phil’s feet, licking his lips slowly. “And?”

“The second was just to, you know, get your attention.” It was barely a whisper, but Dan heard it perfectly clear. Shit.

Dan raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, and said, “Well, you succeeded there, buddy.” He was surprised that he managed to say a full sentence.

He heard Phil sigh. “I love you, Dan. I just don’t really know how to say it to you straight.”

Dan laughed nervously, thinking that he’s just hallucinating or Phil was probably joking. “T-tell it to me… gay then,” he spluttered, earning a laugh from Phil.

Dan regretted saying that, so naturally, he decided to cover his mistake up by talking more nonsense. “You I know what? All this talk and shit is making me hungry. Are you hungry? We’re hungry. Leggo.” He headed for the lounge, feeling Phil trail silently behind him, and paced back and forth. He scolded himself for suggesting this. They literally just ate twenty minutes ago. “D’you want anything to eat in particular?”

Phil looked at him from head to toe and answered, “You?”

Dan groaned as he blushed. If Phil was trying to fluster him, he was doing an exceptional job. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it.

“Pizza!” Dan exclaimed, grabbing his laptop and sitting on his sofa crease. “Let’s do Pizza Hut.” He fumbled as he typed the website. “Any toppings you want in particular?”

Phil sat on the other end of the sofa and patted his legs. “I want you on top of me. Is that available?”

“Stop that!” Dan yelped.

“Stop what?” Phil asked with a giggle.

“Stop flirting with me.”

“If you stop being adorable, I might.” Phil slowly scooted closer towards Dan and closed his laptop, taking it from his lap and placing it on the table. He moved a bit more until their legs touched. Dan tried his best not to look at him, but he could feel Phil stare at him.

“Phil,” he whined, covering his face once more. He can’t believe this was happening. Phil Lester. Flirting with him. The thought felt even more surreal when Phil started trailing kisses down Dan’s neck.

Phil leaned back a bit and met Dan’s eyes, asking worriedly, “Do you like me, Dan?”

He couldn’t conjure the voice to answer so he just nodded his head. It was a good thing Phil was more confident to do all the talking, otherwise they’d just be staring at each other the whole time. Phil’s features softened and he gave Dan an earnest smile, one that could make anyone melt. Dan was glad he’s the only person that could see this right now. He gravitated closer towards Phil and met his lips for a passionate kiss. At this point, Dan became obsessed with kissing him that he just kept wanting more.

When they pulled away, Phil said, “Did you know that you burn two calories for kissing per minute?

“Okay?” Dan responded slowly.

“Well, you can burn a hundred calories from sex. I just want to be more productive.”

“ Phil. ”

[dustandthunder]

ive had a lovely few days.

almost everyone is back in the flat now which is cool, feels like forever since I’ve seen them.

Gina and I went to the gym and then I had an assignment to do so Scott came to my room to do it. We FaceTimed Jaz which was awesome cause I haven’t seen her in ages and ages. And then Gina and Shannon came in too while we were doing the work (I use ‘we’ very loosely, i didn’t understand anything so Scott did mine for me). The three of them sat on my bed and I sat in the desk chair and Jaz was in the phone and it was so cool. Scott only got 50 % on my test but I don’t really care. I did ok in the other assignments for that module so hopefully it won’t make too much difference. Pretty sure I’ll pass regardless anyway (I hope so haha)

Anyway, while Scott was doing the tests, I was doing my makeup cause matt was coming to visit!

The night before we were talking until pretty late. He’d had the day off cause it was Sunday and was on early yesterday so he had to be up at 4 in the morning, but because he’s been on lates a lot recently he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep until around 3. And of course I don’t like to sleep when I could be talking to him so I stayed up too. It was one of those nights where we discuss old stuff and he asks all the questions because we can do that now and it’s ok because we’re over all the shit things and it’s not awkward at all (literally nothing is awkward between us I don’t know why I even needed to say that). But we were talking on FaceTime for ages and I said he should come and see me after work tomorrow (which is now yesterday if that makes sense) cause he finished at 2 and then had the next day (now today) off, and the day after (now tomorrow) he’s on late. So it worked pretty perfectly really !! And he was like yes sounds like a plan .... so yay !

He got here literally as soon as I was done, oddly perfect timing really haha. I was so excited to see him :) it was so lovely, I’m so sad now cause I’m writing this after he’s left and I feel so lonely again haha. Not like properly lonely, just weird cause I’m sat in my room on my own now and it’s all tidy, when earlier all of his stuff was everywhere and my mattress and the air bed were on the floor and there were pillows and duvets and blankets and cushions all over (cause we always make a double bed on the floor and push the single bed frame on its side against the wall cause it’s too small for both of us). Feels like a really awesome sleepover. I guess that’s literally what it is anyway but you know what I mean.

So anyway last night we made the makeshift bed on the floor and then we went out for dinner. We went to this cool place not too far away which is like an American diner and grill. I’ve noticed it before but we’ve never been. It was so lovely inside, with all the booths and red and cream upholstery and Coca Cola fridges and neon tube lights and a big motorbike hanging from the ceiling. It was pretty empty, only two other tables of people. That was nice too, cause I could take photos and have a proper look at it without looking accidentally at people . Haha. The food was good too I would definitely go there again, although it was quite a lot . I think my stomach wasn’t used to a big meal because I haven’t really eaten in a week or so. It was still amazing though. Afterwards it was getting dark but we went for a drive like we always do and we listened to soft songs and it was so nice to be back together, even though it’s not even been very long.

Side note here: I feel so clingy because I miss him so so so much and it’s crazy how much I want his constant company, I hope it’s normal haha. I just really love him to a point I didn’t even realise was possible, and I’m so grateful for every second. I really can’t help being so soppy.

We drove through the mountains and we parked in the lay-by that we always do and we talked about how the new car he’ll get has a retractable glass roof so we can do this sort of thing and look at the stars. I think with that roof I would really want to kneel or stand on the seats and be half way out of the car while he drove, like Sam does in The Perks of being a Wallflower. And listen to stevie nicks singing landslide and maybe cry too, because I’m thinking about that now and it’s making me get a tight chest.

I mean that’s pretty illegal anyway, so maybe not. I’ll settle for holding my hands up through the roof and singing along with Matt and smiling like crazy and him holding my thigh and grinning at me in a way that still makes me cry. Why is my go to thing crying. Everything makes me cry. That sounds amazing anyway.

We sat there in the car for a while. The air was really still and pretty warm compared to what you would think it should have been. There was no signal there so we were listening to the shit on the radio and I had my head on his collar. Perfect nights man

Then we drove back, going too fast as always, and it was pitch black so you could just see the mountaintops either side and I called my mom and it was just great.

Matt was tired so we didn’t go to sleep too late really, he was completely gone by half midnight. I was sleepy but still awake, just listening to his breathing and kissing his shoulder blades and feeling the warmth. god tonight is gonna be shit being back on my own again. I was thinking earlier, in some ways i think it’d be better to not visit because it makes it a million times harder to readjust after yknow ? But at the same time I’d definitely rather deal with that than not see him. I can’t wait til it’s just very single night. I mean it is every single night when I’m back there but I always have to come back to uni. Summer will be good though. Going to work or whatever every day then coming home to falling back into bed next to him. I feel like I sound like one of those people who puts on social media about how their dream is to have a husband and a ton of children and just make it their life to look after them all and never have anything for them self. Haha . (Not that i have a problem with those people at all). But I’m just saying it’ll be nice to have such a long period of not being away.

We got up pretty late, obviously he hadn’t slept the night before so it was understandable, although I was getting pretty restless. We didn’t do too much today. We just went to a town further along the coast and got lunch and went around there for a while. There were lots of sweet dogs everywhere :)))

Talking of dogs, Matt and I have finally decided what dogs were gonna try n get when we have our own place. To be honest this may well not happen but as of now it’s the plan, so @ future me, don’t hold me to this. Ok so we’ve decided we’re going to have three, a Labrador because they’re just lovely, a lil spaniel like Lexie because she’s adorable and I can’t imagine life without her now, and a little sausage dog because we both love them so much. I hope we can rescue some that would be amazing :)

Oh also, when we were walking from my place to matts car, we just randomly saw matts cousin. So weird, turns out he goes to my uni and he lives on my accommodation site ??? Matt had no idea, we just saw him out of the blue. I’ve never met him before I had no idea who he was cause when their family all went to their grandparents at Christmas he didn’t go cause he was ill so I didn’t see him. He’s two years older than me but he’s in first year apparently. How crazy... small world haha.

After we got back from that place, we were going to go to the beach we always go to, but we forgot and came back to my flat. We just got back in bed and cuddled for agessssss with the curtains drawn so it was all dark.

I didn’t want him to go. Obviously. I always get pretty sad when he leaves but hey its only a few weeks now til I’m done with the first year ! That’s so mad honestly . Every single day I tick the date off of the calendar poster I have on my wall, and as of tomorrow I’ll be in the last month .

Anyway, I walked him to the car and helped carry his things down. And then he was gone ! (After a looooong hug) :(

He’s home now, back safe thank fuck. Scares the shit out of me everytime he drives pretty much anywhere that I’m not with him. But he’s ok, so I am too.

After he went I played monopoly with Gina and Shannon, and Gina and I went to do laundry. She paid mine again. She’s always like yeah no worries I’ll pay and I’m just like ???? Thank you so much. It’s not like i couldn’t pay myself but she just insists that she’s got it. Really so grateful .

Right now, like I said, I’m sat on my bed on my own. Matt keeps sending me photos of the dog, she’s so cute. I’m pretty tired, it’s after midnight. I need to take what’s left of my makeup off and go to bed.

It’s been a nice few days, and much as I’m a bit sad now, I am appreciative and happy for that.

[flexeasy-blog]

New Post has been published on FlexEasy Liquid Glucosamine Chondroitin MSM

New Post has been published on http://flexeasy.net/index.php/2017/09/23/fascias-relationship-to-chronic-pain-and-joint-degeneration/

Fascia's Relationship to Chronic Pain and Joint Degeneration

COLLAGEN’S RELATIONSHIP TO FASCIA

Collagen is the building block of all connective tissues. Some collagen-based connective tissues like bone and most cartilages, are part of your body’s load-bearing framework. Their purpose is to withstand “compressive” forces, while grossly maintaining the body’s shape. On the other hand, you have the elastic, collagen-based, connective tissues, whose chief job is to overcome the “tensile” forces that are constantly trying to pull joints apart. These particular tissues don’t need to be able to bear heavy loads, but instead, must be able to stretch and elast (to at least a slight degree) while resisting tearing. These “elastic” collagen-based connective tissues include ligaments, tendons, muscles, and fascia. It is fascia we are concerned with here.

Although you may have never heard the term “fascia” before, you undoubtedly have seen it and know what it is. It is the thin (almost translucent), white / yellow membrane that tightly surrounds muscles – or a pot roast. Deer hunters in our area call it “Striffin”. The term “fascia” comes from the Latin word meaning “band” or “bandage,” which is appropriate, because it is like a very thin ligamentous sheath or band.

A GENERIC DEFINITION OF FASCIA:

“Fascia are the tough layers of fibrous, collagen-based connective tissues that permeate the human body throughout. Fascia is the thin, cellophane-like, connective tissue that surrounds muscles, groups of muscles, blood vessels, and nerves; binding these structures together in much the same manner that plastic wrap can be used to hold the contents of a sandwich together. Fascia is the tissue where the musculoskeletal system, circulatory system, and nervous system, all converge. Fascia consists of several layers, and extends uninterrupted from the top of the head to the tip of the toes. Like ligaments and tendons, fascia contains closely packed bundles of wavy collagen fibers that are oriented in a parallel fashion. Subsequently, healthy fascia are flexible structures that are able to resist great uni-directional tension forces.”

WHAT DOES FASCIA DO?

Be aware that most anatomical drawings do not show much fascia. This leads to the erroneous view that fascia is not an important tissue, even though it makes up approximately 1/3 of the tissue that is found in a muscle. There are several critical functions of the fascia:

It binds and holds muscles together in a compact package.

It ensures proper alignment of the muscle fibers, blood vessels, nerves, and other tissue components inside the muscle.

It transmits forces and loads, evenly throughout the entire muscle.

It creates a uniformly smooth surface that essentially “lubricates” the various surfaces that come in contact with each other during movement.

It allows the muscle to change shape as they lengthen or shorten.

As long as the individual collagen fibers that make up the fascia, are aligned in parallel fashion to each other, the tissue is stretchy and elastic (think about long hair that has been combed out. If you run a comb or brush through it, it glides — smoothly and unrestricted). But what happens when fascia is injured?

INJURED FASCIA

When fascia is stretched beyond its normal load-bearing capacity, it begins to tear. Bear in mind that these tears are so microscopic that they never show up on an x-ray, and only on rare occasions (possibly the Plantar Fascia) will they show up on an MRI. Fascial tears can be caused by sports injuries, repetitive trauma, car wrecks, postural distortions, falls, child bearing, abuse, etc, etc, etc. Very often people have no idea how they ended up with fascial adhesions.

Whenever a muscle is impacted (contact sports, falls, abuse, etc), or overused (lifting weights, running, over-training, heavy or repetitive jobs, etc); collagen microfibers form in between adjacent layers of fascia to bind them together so that the muscles can heal. These microfibers act like a cast. Unfortunately, they do not go away after the area has healed, and tend to accumulate over time. This means that over time, the elastic, collagen-based tissues (particularly muscles and fascia) get increasingly stiffer and less stretchy.

Once fascia is injured (stretched, pulled, torn, etc.), the microscopic fibers become disrupted and deranged. Instead of fibers running parallel to each other in an organized fashion with their normal degree of elasticity / flexibility, the fibers now run every possible direction — in all three dimensions. This is called a scar, and as you can see, scar tissue (no matter how microscopic it is) has an extremely diminished amount of organization and elasticity. Interlock the fingers from one hand with the fingers from the other, only do it with the fingers pointed in all directions. Now try to slide the hands back and forth. See the difference in flexibility? The fact that the fingers are running in a non-parallel fashion to each other greatly diminishes flexibility.

Also notice that when the fingers are interlocked randomly, they will no longer lay flat on the table. Facial adhesions act the same way. When fascia is injured, individual fibers run every which direction, in all three dimensions. This means that the fascial membranes no longer lay flat like a piece of paper. Instead, they are more like a wadded up or crumpled piece of paper. Unfortunately, injured fascia frequently heals in this tangled, twisted, and wadded-up manner.

We can also think of this fascial scarring and adhesion in terms of hair. Remember our example of well-manicured hair that a comb or brush glides through easily? Now think of the exact opposite. Think of a hair tangle. What happens to hair that is not well taken care of, or was slept on wet? Instead of the individual hair follicles lying parallel to each other in a neat and orderly fashion, they become tangled with the individual hair fibers running in every conceivable direction. The result is a tangled mess — a ball of hair that takes forever just get a comb or brush through it. “Hair balls” can be so restrictive that just trying to get a comb through it, pulls and causes great pain. This is even more true with fascia. Most people are unaware that fascia is believed to be the single most pain-sensitive tissue in the human body!

INJURED FASCIA LEADS TO LOSS OF MOTION, & LOSS OF MOTION IS THE KNOWN CAUSE OF JOINT DEGENERATION

When the organization of the parallel collagen fibers of fascia are disrupted by injury, a host of really bad things begin to happen. The first thing that occurs is restriction of joint motion. Understand that if you have tissue restriction, you will automatically have some degree of loss of normal joint motion in the corresponding area(s) of the body. Also understand that loss of normal joint motion virtually assures you that sooner or later there will be pain – even if you are not yet experiencing pain. Unfortunately, pain is not the worst thing that is caused by loss of normal joint motion. That would be degeneration.

Loss of, or abnormal joint motion, is the known cause of localized joint degeneration. When I speak of “localized joint degeneration“, I am talking about things like calcium deposits, bone spurring, and loss of articular cartilage or disc height. Degeneration is a great example of a “vicious cycle“: Loss of joint motion causes joint degeneration — and joint degeneration causes loss of normal joint motion. Repeat. As this cycle spins around and around, it causes pain.

STOP! Think for just a moment. Pain is nothing more than a by-product of the vicious cycle. This is why pain pills and other similar measures (drugs), mask symptoms of Chronic Pain (ineffectively, I might add) without ever addressing its underlying cause. In many cases of Chronic Pain, the underlying cause is fascial restriction and microscopic scar tissue.

Think for a moment how problematic this whole scenario is. Fascia is the single most pain-sensitive tissue in the body — yet it does not image well with even the most advanced imaging technologies such as MRI! What does this mean? Those of you who have dealt with Chronic Pain long enough, know exactly what it means!

It means that when you go visit various doctors (orthopedists, pain specialists, neurologists, etc) they run all sorts of tests, and then look at you as though you are crazy. Or maybe they look at you like you’re a drug seeker, or trying to get Social Security Disability, or trying to win a work comp settlement. Or maybe they just chalk it up to hard work and too many sports. Or maybe they just tell you that you have “arthritis” or “fibromyalgia” in order to get you out of their office. Or maybe they just use that old and trusted standby, “After all Mrs. Smith, you just aren’t as young as you used to be.“

Whatever the case, the result is almost always the same. A blank stare and the recommendation for more pills — or maybe even corticosteroid injections. The latest medical “treatment” for Chronic Pain involves putting people on SSRI’s (anti-depression drugs) while trying to convince them that their Chronic Pain is the result of depression; when just the opposite has been proven to be closer to the truth. (Clinical Depression has not been shown to cause Chronic Pain, but Chronic Pain can cause Depression).

YOU WERE PRESCRIBED “WHAT” FOR YOUR INJURY?

Oh, and how about your doctor kick you a few more times while you are down. Scientific studies have repeatedly shown that beyond the wide array of dangerous, and even deadly side-effects to the kidney, liver, and heart; both NSAIDS, and cortico-steroids actually deteriorate collagen-based tissues — severely and rapidly. This is why doctors will usually ration the amount of cortisone you can have, even if it helps your pain. The Journal of Bone and Joint Surgery published a study over a decade ago that said if a person has more than one cortico-steroid injection in the same joint, over the course of their lifetime, their chance of developing premature deterioration of the affected joint is 100%. Gulp!

IF THE DRUGS ARE SO BAD FOR MY CONNECTIVE TISSUES, WHAT DO I DO?

Instead of treating the Elastic Collagen-Based Tissues (Muscles, Tendons, Ligaments, and Fascia) using the outdated model based on the old belief that “inflammation” (“itis“) is the primary cause of the majority of the problems in these tissues; I believe patients deserve something better – something that actually works.

Because the very drugs that doctors use to reduce inflammation are actually known to cause deterioration of collagen, you should begin to see that something is rotten in Denmark.

I use something called I.I.R.E.C-B.C.T. (Instrument Induced Remodeling of the Elastic, Collagen-Based Connective Tissues). This form of Tissue Remodeling is not the latest electronic “gizmo”. Nor is it some “Johnny-come-lately“. It has been around in various forms (particularly in Chinese Medicine) for thousands of years. However, it has only been around in its current form for twenty years or so. It allows the doctor to find and effectively address Fascial Adhesions or “osis” (osis means that tissue is deranged and not merely inflamed).

To learn more about the ways that Fascial Adhesions are causing Chronic Pain and joint degeneration in epidemic numbers (pictures, research, testimonials, etc), please visit Destroy Chronic Pain.

Source by Dr. Russell Schierling