Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Daniel Howell. 7:12am

A 6ft tall, lanky, awkward, grumpy 17-year-old. Side bangs, occasional eyeliner, decked out Myspace page, the whole shebang. Kicking rocks down the pavement as he walked and tried to fix his tie. He walked slower than he should, wondering if missing the bus would let him stay home from school. He had to force his feet to move, one in front of the other, dreading the bus, dreading his classes, dreading the halls he had to walk through.
Unfortunately, he made it in time for the bus. He dragged himself on and scanned for an empty seat, praying he wouldn't have to sit next to anyone. It was too early for any of their crap. Luck was on his side as he found an empty seat; he put his bag next to him so no one else could sit there and pulled out his iPod, resuming "Origin of Symmetry" and hoping no one could hear it spilling through his headphones.

When they arrived at school, filing off the bus without regard to anyone else, they were 10 minutes early. They had just gotten a new bus driver who thought the speed limit was a suggestion. This was all to Dan's dismay, the great thing about their old bus driver was that they were almost always a couple of minutes late, so he could get away with not being on time. He dragged his feet as he looked for a quiet place to sit, when he turned a corner to get behind the school he almost stepped on someone, causing him to trip. When he managed to steady himself he looked back to see what he had tripped on. Or who. His stomach dropped when he saw Phil Lester on the ground, frowning up at him.

“Alright mate?” Phil said sarcastically, eyeing Dan like a cat stalking its prey.

“Why are you sitting right on the corner? Someone else is definitely going to step on you, you twat.” Dan spat, rolling his eyes and walking away, happy he got the last word.

Phil Lester. One of the worst people in this place. A stuck-up prick who couldn't help but one-up Dan at every chance. Always correcting him, always in first place, everyone's favourite. A total desperate loser. Dan didn't understand how he had any friends, not like he had many, but even one was too much for a guy like that. Nothing he said was ever genuine, and he loved taking the piss out of Dan, just cause he knew it drove him mad. The fact that they had the exact same hair was enough to push Dan off the edge sometimes. He didn't want to match with such an obnoxious wanker, but he also wasn't going to back down and let Phil steal it from him.

He sat at a bench and barely had time to breathe before the bell rang, the shrill sound bouncing around his head for seconds after it stopped. He sighed, taking his time to push off the bench and drag his way into class. Even though he got to school 10 minutes early he still managed to be 2 minutes late to class by staring at his locker for way too long and then taking the long way to class (walking up and down the hall past his class 4 times).

He slumped into his seat, ignoring the paper ball that was tossed at his head seconds after sitting. He knew the teacher saw it, but he also knew she didn't care. Someone could literally set him on fire in front of them and the teachers would ask why he hasn't done his homework. He stared at the board in front of him, absentmindedly doodling on his paper, not processing a single word the teacher said. Multiple paper balls, an eraser, 2 pens and a pen lid had been thrown at the back of his head. Whenever something made contact he would hear a shout of “Bullseye!” followed by echoes of laughter. A few years ago this would have bothered him a lot, he would have retaliated. But he knew better than that now. These kids are just bored and insecure, picking on someone else so that no one notices their flaws. He knew. He wishes he wasn't the victim but he knew there was no changing that, fighting back only gives them what they want. He had one more year of this god forsaken place and then he wouldn't have to think about anyone here ever again. His mind wandered to Phil.

He wondered what Phil would do once he was out of school, becoming a full-time twat doesn't pay very well. He wondered which one of them would change their hair first, but Dan refused, even though it took him hours to straighten and he had definitely killed it, he refused to let Phil win. When they showed up at the start of the year with new haircuts, they both got bullied relentlessly, but both refused to change it. Dan knew that Phil was just a poser anyway, he knew he kept his hair just to piss Dan off. Technically, according to Phil at least, Phil had done his first. Roughly a month before Dan did. Honestly it looked better on Phil, Dan thought, it suited his ghostly complexion and creepy eyes, but he would never admit that. Phil is a moron. Just cause he's an objectively good-looking moron doesn't change that. He does have nice eyes though, Dan thought, like a Tim Burton character, and they were an interesting colour too. At first glance, they look icy blue, but when you look closer they have specks of green and yellow in them. Not that Dan was looking. He didn't care. He had to know things about Phil, so he could beat him. That was the only reason he cared.

The teacher clapped her hands loudly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“This break, when you get a chance, I want you all to look at the notice board next to the art classes. Grades have now been released and we have put the top 20 highest scores for the year level out. Remember, if you're not there that's not a bad thing, it just means you have room to improve.” She spoke as if she were reading from a script, but Dan wasn't thinking about that. Every year he and Phil got closer to the top 2. They had gone from 12th and 11th, to 8th and 7th, to 5th and 4th. And last year they were 4th and 3rd. The one good thing about his war with Phil was that it got him to focus on his grades. Having a motivator was all he ever needed. The idea of Phil's face when he came second to Dan was too good to pass up. His leg bounced anxiously under his table, staring at the clock, desperately willing time to speed up so he could dart up and see his score.

After what felt like hours, the bell rang. He darted from his seat, practically sprinting out of the room. He snaked through the hallway, avoiding most people and earning glares from those he bumped into. He didn't care though, there was one thing on his mind. Who won.

He finally got to the art rooms, slipping through the crowd of anxious teens who were trying to find their names. Finally, he made it to the board.

He started from the bottom, he always did, it made everything above it more exciting. When he got to the top 10 without seeing his name he was pleased, continuing to read,  9th, 8th, 7th, 6th, 4th, 3rd, 2nd-

2nd place: Daniel Howell. 99.7%

He felt his stomach drop when he read first place. Of course. Fucking typical. A painful 0.3% separating them, 0.3% pushing Dan from victory.

1st place: Phillip Lester. 100%

“Point three per cent is crazy.” A voice came from beside him. The voice of the exact person he didn't want to see. He turned, making eye contact with those familiar, unblinking blue eyes. It took every nerve in his body to not punch him square in the face, instead, he huffed at him.

“That's rough. I'm surprised they don't round up. But I guess there can only be one winner.” Phil smiled an ignorant, cocky smile. Shrugging his shoulders and looking back at his first place. Nudging the curly-haired boy next to him and pointing at it to brag. Dan shuddered, he couldn't help himself.

“You're a dick.” He surprised himself honestly, he didn't mean to say anything. Phil turned back to him curiously. “It's fucking point three per cent. It barely counts. You're just everyone's favourite, they probably did it on purpose.” Dan barked. It was true, the teachers liked Phil a lot more than they liked him. Phil batted his eyelashes at Dan.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He said with a smirk, turning back to PJ after Dan stormed off.

What a total twat. It was there last year, Dan would never beat Phil. He could have been nicer about it. But no, why would Dan ever expect Phil Lester to be nice about anything? Phil Lester was the most annoying, childish, selfish, stuck-up, loser, wanna be, bratty, princess, poser twat. Why would he ever expect anything different? He huffed as he walked out the doors, glad it was a Friday because if he saw Phil's face again tomorrow he would definitely do something he regretted. As he slumped against the bus stop he noticed a girl walking over to him, which was an unusual occurrence.

“Hi– um. Dan, right?” She paused, glancing at him, “So I'm throwing this party tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to come, heaps of people will be there, and it's a dress up! It's for my birthday and since it's our last year I'm trying to invite all the people I think are chill. Will you come?” She spoke rather quickly, but Dan barely registered what she said. He was very rarely invited to outings with people as popular as her. He considered saying no, telling her he knew it was a prank, but he had overheard people talking about it at lunch, discussing what they were going to wear.

“I know it's a late notice, most people got told last week but I changed my mind about how many people I wanted there. So I totally get if not.” She said, chewing her lip as she waited for his answer.

“Sure. Why not?” Dan shrugged, a party with a bunch of teenagers at the end of the year meant free alcohol and who knows what else. He had nothing better to do anyway. Myspace doom scrolling could wait a day.

The girl handed him a piece of paper with her number and address on it. Telling him to show up anywhere after 8pm. After she walked away he flipped the paper in his hand, he couldn't recall ever getting someone's number unprompted. He stuffed it in his pocket and began wondering what the hell he could wear. 

Chapter Text

Phillip Lester. 7:12am

A 6’1 tall, lanky, awkward, geeky 18-year-old. Side bangs, skinny jeans, decked out Myspace page, the whole shebang. Eyes flicking as he stared out the window, trying to count the trees. He groaned as he noticed his mother driving under the speed limit. “Better safe than sorry.” She would always say, refusing to acknowledge that 20 under is just as bad as 20 over. Anxious about being late, he fiddled with his tie, making sure it was straight.

Of course, he wasn't late. He was half an hour early, meaning he had to sit on the grass behind the school waiting for them to start classes. Usually, when people came early, they sat with their friends and gossiped as they ate breakfast. Phil, however, sat alone. Against a wall, fiddling with his green iPod. His dad had said it was an obnoxious colour to choose but he didn't care. He clicked on the familiar orange Muse album. Sliding down the wall as New Born started playing. He sighed, wishing PJ would get here earlier to meet him so he didn't have to sit alone for an hour.

At some point, Phil fell asleep. He never usually did that but he stayed up late worrying about his next due assignment and barely slept. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep but he was very suddenly woken up from a kick to the shin. He squinted as his eyes readjusted to being open and focused on the boy in front of him, who had just caught himself from falling over. He instantly recognised the side bang, which went in the opposite direction to his. It was Dan.

“Alright mate?” Phil asked, ignoring the sure bruise on his leg and wondering if Dan had hurt himself.

“Why are you sitting right on the corner? Someone else is definitely going to step on you, you twat.” Dan joked, turning away after giving his advice, clearly in a hurry.

“Good point.” Phil shrugged, shuffling further away from the edge as Dan advised. Yes, Dan had called him a twat, but it was in a loving way. Phil knew. A lot of people judged Dan too quickly, too harshly. He might seem mean but really it's just his demeanour. He always bantered with Phil and Phil realised quickly that people just couldn't see Dan for who he was.

He thought Dan was great. He was incredibly intelligent, often beating or coming just after Phil in scores. He was so naturally enticing. Like he had this aura to him that just drew Phil in. They first met because they had almost tied in the overall rankings for their grade level. Phil had congratulated him and wished him luck for next year, and Dan had done the same. Since then they had had a playful rivalry, but it was simply motivation. They were friends, they just competed to better themselves. It was fun. Phil loved it. He loved the look on Dan's face when he beat him. And honestly, he loved the look Dan got when he won. He always looked so proud of himself, always got that same glimmer in his eyes. Phil wasn't going to let him win, but he did like to see it.

The ear-splitting sound of the bell jolted Phil out of his thoughts. He rushed to gather his stuff and head to class, usually, he would get up before the bell but he kept getting lost in his mind.
He walked straight to class, not needing to stop at his locker as he already had everything he needed, greeting a few of his classmates as he walked past. They were not particularly fond of him but they were certainly nicer than last year.

He made his way to his seat, organised his stuff, staring at the door waiting for PJ or the teacher to walk in. He didn't have much interest in anyone else honestly. PJ was his best friend, they met in first grade and have been best friends since. Phil trusted him more than anyone. He had told him things he would never tell another soul, and he knew PJ had done the same. One thing PJ wasn't good at was coming to school on time. He frequently missed his alarms, slept in, or just decided to go to Starbucks before school for fun. He had his own car so it's not like he had to get up for the bus, though Phil thought that would be good for him.

Eventually, the teacher walked in, settling the class and beginning with their coursework. Phil followed along and took notes at first, but he quickly realised he already knew what she was teaching as he had studied it. Although he probably should have kept listening, he found himself zoned out, watching the teacher but not actually hearing anything she said. He fiddled with his pens, doodled a bit, fixed his tie about 10 times and almost fell asleep before he started listening again. The teacher had changed topics and was now discussing the grade scoring. Phil straightened up, suddenly very tuned in. She explained how it worked, how it didn't matter if you scored low (sure it doesn't), and how it would be up for everyone to view by the art classrooms at break. Phil felt his hands shake with a mix of anxiety and excitement, Every year he had gotten closer to first place. He didn't care that much but he always thought about how cool it would be to technically be the smartest person in the grade.

He fiddled with his hands until the bell rang, it felt like it took hours when it was really 2 minutes. He jolted out of his seat, thanking the teacher and rushing out the door, instantly colliding with someone.
Before he had the chance to apologise he heard a familiar voice.
“Jesus man, what's the rush?” PJ asked, holding Phil's shoulder to steady him.

“What are you doing here? You missed the first period.” Phil said, glaring at PJ like a disappointed mother.

“I got here like 5 minutes ago but walking into class that late seems pointless. Anyway, why are you practically sprinting down the hall?” He returned to his original question, frowning at Phil in confusion.

“Grades are released, I was going to see them,” Phil replied anxiously, every moment standing here talking was another moment he was missing out on seeing his score.

“Alright let's go look then,” PJ shrugged, allowing Phil to lead the way and huffing something about him walking too fast.

They manage to get to the art room, pushing past the crowd of anxious teenagers to see the board. Phil started from the bottom, which helped him manage his expectations. As he went up he got more anxious and more excited, each name meant a higher spot, or, he wasn't there at all. He stopped at 12th and pointed, nudging PJ.

12th place: PJ Liguori. 87%

PJ smiled excitedly, wondering how he got there with so many absences, and urged Phil to keep reading.

His eyes went back to scanning, passing 5th, he had to fight his eyes from flicking up. 4th, 3rd, 2nd-

2nd place: Daniel Howell. 99.7%

Phil instantly felt awful. Getting that close to first place and missing it must really suck. Finally, he let his eyes wander up. And there he was.

1st place: Phillip Lester. 100%

He gasped, getting 100% meant that he had gotten 100% in every single class. He thought back to Dan, wondering which class brought him down 0.3%. He heard a huff beside him. He glanced over and saw the man himself, looking at the board in shock and anger.

“Point three per cent is crazy,” Phil spoke, feeling incredibly guilty for what could have been a perfect tie, or a final win for Dan. When Dan just frowned at him, he continued talking.

“That's rough. I'm surprised they don't round up. But I guess there can only be one winner.” Phil smiled at him, trying to be comforting. He felt a nudge in his side, glancing back at PJ, who was clearly about to say something.

“You're a dick.” The voice behind him snapped him back around, surprisingly deep and serious for Dan.

“It's fucking point three per cent. It barely counts. You're just everyone's favourite, they probably did it on purpose.” Dan growled. Phil felt bad, he knew this was a difficult loss. And he kind of agreed with Dan. It was barely a loss at all. In his mind, they both came first.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He thought agreeing with Dan would be easier. Just letting it roll off like water on a duck's back, hoping this wouldn't cause an issue between them. Dan turned and walked off, probably having a bus to catch.

Phil eventually turned back to PJ, who had a grin on his face.

“I have never heard you talk shit like that.” He said, laughing as he spoke.

“What? What are you talking about, I wasn't talking shit?” Phil questioned, pulling PJ away from the angry group of people waiting to see the board.

“I just mean I've never heard you talk back. Like usually people are mean to you and you don't care but you really gave what he was giving.” Pj shrugged.

“He wasn't being mean, it's just banter cuz we are so competitive over our scores. That's just how he is. And I wasn't being mean either? I was trying to be nice to him.” Phil was utterly confused, he felt like PJ had just watched a completely different conversation.

“Uh no, he was being a dick. Phil you know he hates you right? I hear him talk shit about you all the time and he's always so mean to you. That's not banter, he genuinely doesn't like you.” PJ explained with a curious look, trying to understand what Phil was on about.

“Wait he talks shit about me? I thought we were friends!? That's just his humour. He doesn't actually mean it” Phil defended, trying to wrap his head around what PJ meant.

“Phil, why do you think you're friends? Has he ever actually done anything nice to you or anything that would lead you to believe you're friends or did you just one day decide you're friends?” PJ said, staring at Phil intensely. Phil paused to think about when he and Dan became friends. He couldn't really remember what had started it. He instead tried to think of examples of Dan being nice to him, but as he thought back he realised how backhanded all of Dan's “helpful” comments had been.

It felt like his whole reality had been shattered. How the hell was he in a one-sided friendship for so long without noticing? Was he truly that ignorant or was he just overly positive?

He blinked and he was outside, PJ had obviously dragged him out and was now talking about the party they were going to, which Phil had forgotten about.

“It will help you get over this bullshit. Dan is such a dick I can't believe he was walking all over you for so long and getting away with it.” PJ said, though Phil was barely listening. He was still trying to figure out why he decided that the guy who was nothing but mean to him was his friend.

Chapter Text

Loud thumping music vibrated through Phil's body, and every beat shook through the floor. He was standing in a corner with a group of people he didn't know, PJ had disappeared about 10 minutes ago. Phil watched the group talk animatedly, all talking over each other. He swirled whatever was in his cup, he didn't drink much but he didn't like having empty hands so he accepted it gratefully when PJ offered. He was tired, they had only been there for about half an hour and he already wanted to go home. Adjusting the small cat ears on his head he slid through the crowd finding a quieter space to linger.

He walked past a mirror on his hunt, and he noticed that his once perfectly even cat whiskers were now smudged and disappearing. He frowned, without the whiskers he was just a guy in a flannel with cat ears on.

He eventually made it to a back door, which he happily slid through. Inhaling the fresh air he took a seat on the steps of the back patio. He put his cup down, knowing he wouldn't be drinking it, and looked up at the sky. It was a dark navy blue, despite the lights around them, there were still a few stars sparkling. He resorted to counting them and trying to come up with his own constellations.

A few people came out, some to throw up, some looking for friends and some trying to escape through the back. Each time he scooted over, let them pass, and then went right back to counting. He lost count every time so he was really just making up numbers at this point. The sound of the door opening again put him right back at zero. He huffed quietly and turned around, seeing if he needed to move.

–

Dan showed up late, he told himself it was cool to be late but really he was scraping together a costume. As he walked up to the house he walked past girls with skirts so short they were practically belts, topless guys wearing cowboy hats, one of whom tried to lasso him, people who actually put effort into their costumes, and a guy who was simply wearing boxers.

He sighed, regretting it already. He decided he would find the girl, say happy birthday, grab some drinks and dip after an appropriate amount of time.

He slid into the house, scanning for the familiar blonde. He found her with a large group of girls passing drinks around. She was dressed as Regina George, which didn't suit her sweet airy nature but it looked nice anyway.

“Dan! Hi!” She dragged out the hi as she gave him a hug, which baffled him until he smelled the tequila on her. “I'm so glad you came! What the hell are you dressed as?” She gestured to his lazy brown jumper that he found at the bottom of his cupboard.

“I'm a bear. Rawr” He put his hands up like paws which made her laugh. The truth was he found a Sharpie while looking for something to wear and had the idea of just drawing something.

Eventually, she told him where to get drinks and he headed straight for it. Bumping into someone as he turned the corner and having a drink sloshed on him.

“Jesus- I'm so sorr- …oh it's you” PJ, a friend of Phil's, frowned at him. Dan brushed himself off.

“Don't worry about it,” he shivered as he felt whatever was in the cup seep through his jumper.

“Trust me, I won't.” PJ rolled his eyes and went to push past him.

“Hey, what's your problem with me?” Dan grabbed his arm, blocking his path. Most people didn't like him sure, but PJ in particular always seemed to have a grudge.

“Cuz you're a prick and you take advantage of people who like you,” PJ spoke, slurring his words a little.

“Dude, what are you talking about? Who have I taken advantage of?”

“Phil. Duh. He really liked you, you know.” PJ said, managing to push past Dan and slinking into the crowd.

Phil? What the hell was he talking about? He must have had too much to drink, Dan thought to himself. Brushing off the strange interaction he went and found the nearest bottle. Snatching it and exiting the way PJ did.

He began scanning for a place to sit where he would be left alone, though he didn't think he would find that here. As he was slipping through the crowd someone grabbed his arm. It was a girl, she looked familiar but not enough for him to know her name.

“Oh my gosh, are you and Phil matching? That's so cute!” She said, giggling to herself before letting go and disappearing.

Apparently, everyone was being strange tonight. He wondered if she meant their hair. That's probably what she meant, Phil would never come to a place like this so what else could she mean?

Eventually, he spotted a sliding door that led outside, after cutting off drunk conversations and shaking random people off him. He slid the door open, the cool air from outside rushing in and making him shiver, reminding him of his slightly damp clothing. He stepped out, looking over the grass in the backyard. The patio had a small railing around it, which he leaned on, drinking out of the bottle in his hand and inhaling the fresh air.

He heard a small cough from the stairs, causing him to glance down. He was met with large, blue eyes. Very familiar large, blue eyes.

“Dan? What are you doing here?” Phil said, lifting himself off the steps, glancing at the stars somewhat annoyed.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? Probably the same thing as you.” He thought about what PJ said. Maybe he should just ask Phil… though that would involve being civil and he didn't really feel like doing that after the whole grades debacle.

“Counting stars?” Phil questioned earnestly, glancing back up at them.

“What.. No?” Though Dan did follow his eye line, looking at the stars glistening. Who the hell counts stars? He shook his head. “I'm here to get wasted.”

“Oh... so not the same thing as me.” Phil shrugged, walking up the steps and leaning on the railing on the other side of Dan.

“Well, what are you doing here then?” Dan said, leaning to the right so he could see Phil properly. That was when he noticed his scrawled whiskers. That's what she meant, they sort of were matching… in the way that neither of them put any effort in.

“PJ asked me to come. I don't know where he is now though. He does that every time.” Phil said, the last part more to himself than to Dan. Dan frowned.

“Why come then? If you don't like parties and you're only coming to hang out with your mates why are you here if you know their gonna leave?” Dan said, taking another drink of the bottle he was holding, he then realised he didn't even know what he was drinking.

“Well I don't know, I don't want to say no because then they'll stop inviting me. I don't want them to forget about me.” Phil spoke absentmindedly as he trailed his fingers over the railing, still looking at the stars.

Dan didn't know what to do, he just realised Phil hadn't said anything mean and had been nothing but honest. His mind kept nagging him about what PJ said. Ask him. Ask him. Ask him.

“Phil, would you say we're friends?” Dan blurted out before he could stop himself. Finally, Phil looked at him, though his face told Dan nothing.

“I did.” Phil shrugged again, looking at his feet.

“PJ said you liked me,” Dan spoke, he suddenly felt very nervous. When Phil looked back up at him the moon sparkled on his hair and reflected in his eyes, which remained unblinking and emotionless.

“I did.” He simply repeated, this time not averting his gaze.

“How?” Dan spoke, pushing himself off the railing to step closer to Phil. He felt very strange, whatever he was drinking clearly had a big impact on him. He had never felt like this.

“I thought you were nice, I thought people just didn't understand your banter. I thought people were too quick to judge you, so I refused to. I liked our little rivalry. I liked your energy.” Phil spoke, his eyes trailing back to the yard, scanning the grass. Dan noticed how all of those things were past tense. How did he not realise? No. Phil is fucking with him, he's a prick.

“But you've always been a prick to me?” Dan asked this question seemed to wake Phil up. His eyes snapped back.

“I've never been mean to you. I have done nothing but wish you well.” Phil said, stepping closer to him to assert dominance.

“What about ‘there can only be one winner’?” Dan pressed, not backing down.

“I was being nice? I was telling you that if the rules were different we both would have come first, but it's probably easier for them to just have one winner rather than rounding up and making it a tie. I have always supported you on the leaderboard. I like it when you beat me cuz I like how excited it gets you. I thought you would feel the same but I guess not.” Phil spoke fast, defending himself.

Dan just stared at him, he replayed all of their interactions in his head, taking off the rose coloured glasses and realising Phil was never a red flag, he was just projecting. Sure Phil wasn't great with his tone but now that he thought about it all of Phil's “sarcastic comments” seemed genuine.

“Oh my fucking god how long have I been in a one-sided rivalry. What the hell is wrong with me?” Dan stepped back, questioning his whole reality.

“I feel like that's better than being in a one-sided friendship,” Phil said, eyeing him, clearly hurt by this ordeal.

“I'm…” Dan scanned him, wondering if he could bring himself to apologise. He sighed, took a drink, and shook his head.

“I'm sorry.” Dan glanced back at him, watching for a reaction. Phil just smiled.

“Thanks!” He spun back onto the railing, looking back at the stars.

“Wh- that's it? You forgive me?” Dan was expecting an argument, a fuck off, some sort of retaliation.

“Yeah sure.” Phil blinked at him, as if confused.

“Um… okay.” Dan didn't really know what to do with himself anymore.

“I mean, you're a massive dick, but I forgive you anyway,” Phil spoke, surprising Dan a little, he wasn't sure he had ever heard him swear. “Also are we matching costumes on accident?”

Dan just stared at him, and Phil never looked away from the sky. The lights from the house flashed behind them, creating a colourful aura around Phil, and the moon reflected in his eyes and on his eyelashes. His shadow on the wall behind him was a perfect silhouette. Dan swallowed thickly, wondering if his drink had been spiked. He felt hot.

Often he would catch himself watching Phil for too long, eyes lingering on him even as he walked away. He sometimes looked at himself in the mirror, wishing his hair looked as good as Phil's. The jet black against his ghostly white made him look like the perfect horror movie typecast. His large eyes were creepy and endearing at the same time. Sometimes when Dan couldn't sleep he pictured him while staring at the ceiling. He had to shake his head or distract himself to make it go away. Maybe he didn't hate Phil, maybe he was obsessed with him.

Dan looked down at his shoes, wondering how long he had been staring at Phil, and wondering how Phil didn't notice. He took a breath and slotted himself next to Phil, mimicking him by staring at the stars. Phil didn't flinch, he didn't react at all.

“Do you..” Dan started, wondering if he could play it off as being drunk if this didn't go well. He took a breath, only then realising that he was shaking a little. “Do you… Think you could ever like me again?” He tensed himself, the 3 seconds of silence were enough to have him buy a rope. He felt Phil shift beside him, he was now facing him. He could feel his warm breath on his cheek.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Phil said calmly, his eyes locked onto Dan's with focus. Dan froze, he was utterly confused. Although his mother always told him to try new things and do the things that make him nervous, so with a quick breath, he spoke.

“Sure.” He tried to sound calm and casual, though his voice cracked.

Phil walked down the steps, gesturing for Dan to follow, which he did. They walked around the side of the house to avoid people. The music slowly faded as they walked down the driveway and onto the street. Dan registered that he was blindly following a guy who might hate him into the darkness, but something in him told him to keep going. They walked in silence, lit by the moon and the odd street light.

–

Phil was freaking out. The guy who he thought was a good friend, who turned out to hate him, who turned out to not hate him, who apparently wanted to be friends, was walking beside him. Hands in his pockets, probably to keep warm, looking at the floor as he walked.

He watched him out of his eye. He didn't know what brought him to invite him back, it just spewed out. Although he thought it might be a good way for them to actually get to know each other. Thankfully his parents were on holiday and his brother was at his girlfriend's house, so maybe they could watch a movie and have some drinks. Or Dan would see his room and leave immediately.

He turned the corner sharply, simply off muscle memory, causing him to collide into Dan's side.

“Ouch- sorry, I forgot to tell you to turn,” bracing himself for some sort of insult, he watched the way Dan glanced at him. He then did something so out of character that Phil thought he might be possessed. He laughed. He laughed with his whole body, his cackle echoed in the empty street, his dimples, which Phil only saw when he lost, caught his attention. Eventually, Dan shook himself to reset and gestured for them to start walking again, muttering an “you're an idiot.”

They slowly made their way to Phil's house, every step felt heavier, every breath felt sharper. He hadn't been this nervous for someone to come over in ages. Though he hadn't had anyone new over in ages either. He hoped Dan couldn't see how nervous he was.

He fumbled in his pocket, looking for his key. He could feel Dan's eyes on the back of his head, burning through them and damaging his brain cells. Eventually, he found them, then fumbled with the lock for what felt like an hour, and then got inside. He flicked the lights on as Dan followed him in, looking around curiously. Phil swallowed, his hands felt clammy, and he watched Dan's reactions anxiously.

Dan turned and looked at him with an expectant look on his face, When Phil didn't react he made it clearer.

“What now?” Dan said, shuffling in his spot.

Phil ran through ideas of how to get to know each other and landed on music, he told Dan to follow him to his room and began going through his CDs. They sat across from each other, cross-legged.

“You probably won't know most of the stuff I listen to, not many people like it.” He always did this, preempting stuff so people wouldn't be disappointed.

As he laid his CDs out he heard Dan gasp, before he had a chance to ask him why he did that Dan reached over and grabbed one of his cases. Phil watched his hand as it trailed over the familiar orange CD.

“That's my favourite album ever” Phil blurted out, unable to hide his excitement. Dan's face lit up.

“I love this album.” He said, scanning the tracklist.

Turns out Dan did know Phil's music, he knew all of it. They sat talking about music for what felt like hours, swapping their opinions about certain artists and songs. Occasionally they argue over their favourite songs. The topics shifted around other interests they shared, but usually went back to music. Phil had never met someone he had been this drawn to, he had thought that since the start but now that they were actually talking and not just arguing he felt it more.

–

Phil had been rambling about an album for the past 7 minutes, excitedly talking about each feature he liked and didn't like, and how it “changed the genre.” Dan was half listening, half admiring. After being at Phil's house for an hour he decided to stop ignoring his thoughts, Now when he started thinking about how attractive Phil's nose was, or how perfectly his eyes fluttered, he didn't tell himself to stop. He had a mini breakdown when he went to the bathroom and saw himself in the mirror, but after that, he was fine… enough.

He was currently watching the way Phil spoke with his hands, gesturing to emphasise every point, not caring that he just knocked something over. Dan felt his voice turning to static the more he analysed his face. He was trying to listen, really, really trying. But then Phil batted his eyelashes at him, and then he scratched his nose which led Dan to trace it with his eyes, and then he stuttered, which caused Dan to look at his lips.

And suddenly Dan was gone.

He felt his face flush, desperately trying to block his thoughts, trying to tune back in to what Phil was saying, already praying for forgiveness. He was snapped out of it when he felt a hand on his knee.

“You good? Do you want some water?” Phil spoke. When Dan forced himself to make eye contact he felt like he was falling down a well. He nodded, starting to think of excuses for this. Tell him you drank too much.

Dan blinked and Phil was gone he was now alone on the bed, he didn't really remember when they got off the floor and sat on the bed but it was definitely more comfortable. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. Phil would kick him out in seconds if he could hear his thoughts.

There was a tap of glass on the bedside table across from him, he blinked up to see Phil, offering him a different one, which he took.

“Thanks, I think I drank too much, I just got a bit hot.” Dan shrugged, trying to play it off. Phil tilted his head, looking concerned.

“Maybe you should go to sleep, we have a guest room,” Phil said, shifting on his feet nervously. Dan hated that idea, sure he was freaking out a bit but he didn't want to stop hanging out. He already hated the fact that he had missed out on so much time cuz he was such a dick.

“No I'm alright, I feel fine now. Thanks for the water.” He smiled, passing Phil the cup back and scooching over so Phil could sit back down. Phil eyed him hesitantly before sitting back down. They eventually flowed back into conversation, now about movies and TV. They started talking about Buffy, which Phil was clearly very enthusiastic about. Dan had seen some of it but clearly not as much as Phil had. He listened to him talk, actually listened this time, and he enjoyed what he heard. Dan suggested that they should watch it, which Phil jumped at. He pulled out his laptop in seconds and set it up between them.

About three episodes later Phil shifted and slid off the bed without pausing.

“You can keep watching it I'm just taking off my hoodie and putting on a shirt” Phil said, waving his hand at the laptop as if telling Dan to ignore him. Dan did not ignore him.

Phil shuffled through his wardrobe, which lacked organisation, and pulled out a random blue shirt. He undid his flannel and dropped it on the floor with a soft thud. There was a loud noise from the laptop but Dan didn't flinch, his eyes never left Phil.

Phil, who was clearly more comfortable than Dan, took his shirt off, dropping it on the floor next as well. He pulled on the blue one and fixed his hair in a small mirror on the door of the cupboard before turning back to Dan, who quickly averted his eyes.

“What's going on?” Phil asked, gesturing to the screen. Dan felt his cheeks heat, he genuinely had no idea what was going on in the episode, and he didn't even know who half the characters were. Phil sat next to him, still staring at him.

“Um.. something about a boy being mauled in the woods?” He said, mainly because that was the last thing they said.

“Uh-huh… interesting,” Phil said, sounding closer than he was before.

“What happened before that?” Phil muttered.

“Well- shouldn't you know? You said you've seen it.” Dan said, rather than fumbling with the plot.

“Yeah, but you should know too… or you would, if you were actually looking.” Phil laughed to himself. Dan could feel himself going pink, he turned to look at Phil, who was much closer than he expected.

“I was.” was all he managed to get out. Phil's breath was on him, and their eyes were locked together.

“You're really pretty, you know that?” Phil mumbled, and Dan swore he moved closer. He frowned at him, but he didn't understand what was going on. He was waiting for the punchline. But it never came. Phil didn't move, he just analysed Dan's eyes. Dan's body was telling him to lean in, but every part of his brain was telling him not to do that.

So they sat for what felt like hours, (it was 13 seconds) and finally, Phil sighed and leaned back.

“Sorry, that was weird.” Phil laughed nervously, but Dan noticed a hint of disappointment in his tone. His mind whirred at speeds unimaginable, and every part of him begged for the closeness again. He had no control of himself when his hand snaked onto Phil's, and up his arm onto his neck. His mind told him to stop but his body pulled him closer. His brain short-circuited as he made the final choice.

The second they made contact Dan felt like the world hit pause. The first kiss is soft and quick, they pull away for a second, looking at each other nervously. When Dan spots a tiny smile at the corner of Phil's mouth he goes back in. Launching himself at him, he feels a hand tangle into his hair, and another running down his back. It's quick at first, rushed, like their both scared it's going to end. Dan felt like he had never been touched before, each brush together set off fireworks in his mind. How was it that just 24 hours ago he despised the guy in front of him? Phil slid himself onto Dan's lap, pushing him down so he was on his back without pulling apart.

–

After about 3 seconds of Dan kissing him, Phil kissed back. He thought he missed his chance, he thought he misjudged Dan's eyes tracing him. But no, like he had said before, he knew Dan. Even if he had doubted that earlier, it was now proven to be a fact. They slid together easily, like they were made for each other. Phil had kissed plenty of people. Well, plenty of girls. None of them made him feel like Dan did. The second they collided he felt like there was a universal shift. If you told him 3 days ago that this was happening he wouldn’t believe you. But here he was, Dan under him, hair curling at the ends from Phil playing with it, cheeks flushed and dusted with red, pupils wide, staring up at him. Phil suddenly felt very cold hands on his torso, sliding up his body and pulling his shirt off, making him shiver. It only made him crave the heat of the fire more.

They met again, slower this time, the rush and anxiety gone. They were simply enjoying each other's presence at this point. No expectations, no worries, just each other. Phil's shitty whiskers were either gone or very smudged by this point, and Dan's spots were the same. When Phil slid his hand onto Dan's neck he broke away, giggling and pushing him off.

“Stop! I'm ticklish.” Dan shook his head, still holding Phil's hand away. Phil's eyes lit up as he went straight for him, attacking him as he cried laughing, begging for mercy. Only breaking away after Dan managed to bite his hand.

“You're feral,” Phil said, laughing and rolling off him. The room fell quiet, but it was a peaceful quiet. When Phil turned back to say something, he saw Dan had fallen asleep. He decided he would do the same, turning off his light and rolling to face Dan. He only had a small bed so their long legs were pressed against each other. He pulled the blanket over the two of them and watched as Dan breathed, This was the most peaceful he had ever seen him.
And he hoped he would be lucky enough to see it again.