Dan spent so much of his life—too much of his life—trying not to look at Phil. Well, at least not too long. Not in the wrong way. But it wasn’t easy, his gaze had always been almost supernaturally drawn to Phil, to the narrow length of his body, the angles of his features, the way you could see the blue of his veins so clearly through the pale skin on his wrists…
He kept waiting for this feeling to go away. Kept waiting for the friendship they’d built to finally, finally, suffocate the rest of it. Kept waiting for his heart to stop beating so fast, kept waiting for his mouth not to go dry, for his mind not to wander to impossible things. But, it seemed, for Dan, the most impossible thing was getting over Phil.
And there hadn’t even really been anything there to get over, at least not from Phil’s perspective.
Dan shook his head and let out a breath as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. He was walking toward the new London apartment with a plastic bag slung over his arm. He’d gone to the drug store to pick up a few things they needed. Phil hadn’t been in the mood to go out, which wasn’t all that rare of an occurrence, but they’d needed hand soap for the bathroom and Dan had needed something else… something he wasn’t going to tell Phil about. Something that helped Dan stay friendly with his left hand.
He should probably have tried to find a girlfriend over the last couple years (or maybe a boyfriend… maybe…though he wasn’t sure he ready for that) Dan could have at least gone out and gotten laid. He’d gone as far as kissing a girl he’d met through some old uni friends, but he didn’t manage to go farther than that—and it wasn’t that she was a girl. He wasn’t gay. It was that she wasn’t Phil. That made it feel wrong, even when it wasn’t.
But it wasn’t like Phil was doing any better picking up women, as far as Dan knew. And he knew pretty far because they were rarely apart. Phil had been on some dates over the years though… a few not all that long ago actually, though, as usual, nothing had seemed to come of it. It was evident that neither one of them wanted to be apart for long, even if Dan wanted things with Phil that Phil didn’t want with him. That was entirely irrelevant to that fact that they still kept on spinning around each other like twin planets.
When Dan got back to the flat, he called out for Phil, but Phil didn’t answer, so he called out again. Still, no answer. Dan sat the grocery bag near the sink and headed towards their bedrooms.
“Phil. I’m back. You here?” Dan’s brow furrowed. “Phil.” He stuck his head into Phil’s bedroom because the door was open, but he wasn’t there.
Oh well, Dan thought, maybe he’s just in the gaming room. Maybe he has headphones on.
Dan decided to go to his bedroom and take off his shoes and change into something more comfortable before going to the gaming room to let Phil know he’d made it back. He pushed open the door to his room.
Phil was sat at Dan’s desk, looking at Dan’s computer, a hand down his pants.
His head was tipped back a little, and Dan could see his arm moving back and forth. On the screen was some porn Dan had downloaded to a file called ‘old school papers’ that he assumed no one would actually want to go digging around in, but apparently Phil had—and he’d found this—one man on his knees, face pressed into the mattress, fingers scrambling at the sheets, as another man pounded into him from behind.
Phil was jerking off to this? The same Phil who’d never said he was straight in so many words, but had been very clear about his boundaries with Dan since that night on the Manchester Eye. The same Phil, who’d never so much made a passing comment about an attractive man, despite Dan being certain he’d seen his gaze linger sometimes on hard bodies a little too long.
“Oh, God,” Phil said, breathily, and the sound went straight between Dan’s legs.
Dan’s face flushed and he strained against his zipper, unable to do anything else but press the heel of his hand to his growing erection. He let out an involuntary hiss.
Phil startled and swiveled in the chair toward him. Their eyes met—locked—and Dan stayed dead still, not even moving his hand away from the aching hardness. Any sudden movement could bring all of this tumbling down.
Phil’s jeans were unbuttoned, his knuckles visible bumps underneath his cotton boxer-briefs. His cheeks and neck were flushed a beautiful pink. It was an incredible sight, and Dan never wanted to look away from it.
So he didn’t. Instead, Dan took a risk and rubbed his cock through his jeans with the heel of his hand like it was a kind of secret message.
Phil’s mouth dropped open, the sex sounds from the porn still played out, filling Dan’s bedroom with the soft grunts and whimpers. He paused. For a moment, Dan thought Phil was going to slide his hand out of his pants and demand to know what Dan was doing, looking at him like that, rubbing a boner through his jeans. He didn’t though, he simply moved his own hand up and down again, then cast his eyes away from Dan.
“This is a good one,” Dan said, his voice low. “I watch it a lot.” What am I doing? What am I doing? “You ever watch stuff like this?”
“Not… no.” Phil’s words were tangled up with his labored breaths. “I saw some in uni, but no. Is this what you…normally watch?”
Dan could hear the question. Do you watch men fuck because you’re gay? No, Dan wanted to say, I watch men fuck because I like to watch men fuck. I like to watch women fuck. I like to watch men and women fuck. But he didn’t want to fight with Phil, certainly not right now.
“Sometimes.” Dan pulled his hand away from his cock, determined not to scare Phil off. “Keep watching. Keep going. It gets really good.”
Phil hesitated, his eyes holding on Dan’s a moment longer before he pivoted back toward the glow of the computer screen.
The men were turned around now. The shaggy haired one was riding the clean cut one, just bouncing himself up and down on his cock. Dan was so hard now, his mouth dry, his skin hot all over. It was strange to think that Dan had actually managed to not have sex in years, to have never had this. Never had a man. The closest he’d gotten was a dildo he’d ordered last year. He wondered what Phil would think if he knew how many times Dan had sat on that dildo and bounced just like that guy on the screen, bounced and imagined that silicone was flesh and blood and Phil.
“Dan…” Phil’s voice was mostly just a gasp at this point.
“Please don’t stop.”
Phil let out a groan, then just kept jacking off, his eyes on the screen, on the two men who were sweaty and flushed and fucking.
Their mouths met, hard and wet, and nothing like what Dan thought kissing should really be like, but it was still hot to watch, to watch them wetly licking into each other’s open mouths.
Phil’s hand started to move even faster, his grunts growing breathier, faster.
“Shit,” Phil said. “Shit. I’m going to—shit.” Phil spun a little towards Dan as he came, squirting up onto his t-shirt, his head titled back, his mouth dropped open, his face so beautifully twisted up in pleasure.
He was sat on Dan’s chair, in Dan’s room, watching Dan’s gay porn, while Dan stood there, just watching him come apart.
But, fuck, fuck now it was over and the panic clawed up Dan’s chest. What if Phil was pissed at him? What if this screwed things up for them?
Phil’s breaths came ragged and when they finally slowed, he asked, without looking at Dan, “Sorry.”
“That’s… it’s okay.” More than okay.
“I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have gotten on your computer. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dan said, not wanting Phil to freak out over this and for things to get weird between them. Not when they’d just moved to London on absolutely nothing but the vague possibility that the BBC might pick up their radio show. “Can’t we just not worry about it, huh? It’s not a big deal.”
Phil blinked at him, a crease of work between his eyes. “So, we’re fine?”
Dan put on a stiff smile, still hard as fucking rock in his jeans, “Yeah, Phil. Of course. We’re fine.”