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The Five Times Dan Howell Tried to Be a Bad Boy and the One Time He Was Himself

Summary:

Despite dating the school bad boy for over a year, Dan has never really experienced what it’s like to break the rules. With a little guidance from Phil, Dan makes it his mission to change that.

Notes:

HEY ALL! This is kind of an unofficial second part to my other fic I’ll Hold Your Flower Crown, and takes place a year afterwards. If you haven’t read it, that’s okay! You can dive right in as this fic CAN stand alone! I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT OKAY BYE <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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Dan Howell was never a bad boy.

That position belonged to his boyfriend, Phil. When he wasn’t with Dan, he was likely in detention, most often for picking fights in the hallway (to defend Dan’s honor, of course), or for getting caught skipping the “useless, corporate, soul-sucking agenda of the UK education system,” and today was no exception. 

Dan was sat on a bench outside, kicking the gravel and idly shuffling his music. Over the past year of dating, he’d grown rather accustomed to sitting on the bench waiting for Phil, but he didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to finish up some homework, or to just sit by himself and think for a little while.

He had just finished scribbling in the answer for the last problem on his maths worksheet, when finally he saw the front doors open and a tall boy with dyed blue hair exit the building. He was laughing about something with his friends, backpack slung across his shoulder with a casual grace that only Phil could achieve. Secretly, Dan couldn’t help but feel a bit like an outsider, watching from his position on the bench.

They made eye contact from across the courtyard and immediately Phil broke out in a grin, raising a hand to say goodbye to his friends and taking off across the pavement. He jogged over to where Dan was sitting before flopping down and planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey you,” he said, pressing his face into Dan’s hair. “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” said Dan, tucking his splayed out schoolwork into his backpack. He stood up and reached for Phil’s hand, hauling him off the bench. 

“So how was detention?” He asked when they were finally situated in Phil’s car and peeling out of the school parking lot. It was practically routine by now to ask, Phil spent so much time in there.

“Shitty, as usual. I swear Mr. Binns has a thing for me, ‘Mr. Lester, in trouble again I see? Oooo Mr. Lester, don’t make me show you how boys like you got punished in my day!’”

Dan snorted. “A true love story- Phil Lester, and the 90 year old bag of dust that monitors detention.”

Phil’s face curved into a smile. “You’re always so interested in what I do in detention Dan, jealous of Mr. Binns?”

“Pft. As if.”

“Then what is it then?”

Dan paused a moment, wondering how exactly he could articulate what he was thinking. It’s not like he had never done anything “immoral” or even “illegal” in his life. Sure, he’d been to a few parties, even drank a little, and he was far from the innocent little virgin most people took him for upon first glance (courtesy of Phil.) However, despite his instances of mild rebellion, he’d never considered himself to be badass like Phil was, and couldn’t help but feel somewhat boring in comparison. He’d always thought Phil was way out of his league, and hearing about all the wild things he got up to in and out of school made him almost… jealous.

“I guess… I guess I’ve just never done anything bad is all. I wonder what it’s like sometimes,” he said hesitantly.

“Aw Dan,” said Phil, glancing at him from the driver’s seat. “You’re such a sweetheart. I don’t even think you have the capacity to do anything remotely bad.”

“Hey! We met at a party with alcohol, remember?”

“Yeah and you threw up on me and I had to drive you home, how could I forget?” Phil snickered. Dan punched him in the arm.

“That was one time! I’m not a child, Phil,” he said, crossing his arms defensively. He paused a moment, his voice softening as he stared out the window, “It’s just… You’re so much cooler than me. I get a little jealous sometimes is all.”

“Dan…” said Phil reaching out his hand to intertwine with Dan’s. “You don’t have to be jealous. I like you just how you are!”

Dan gave him a weak smile. “Yeah I guess,” he said, flicking his attention back towards the window.

Phil bit his lip, rolling over his snake bite piercing in thought. He never really considered any of his or his friends antics “badass,” more like a mixture of an anti-establishment ideology, impulsiveness, and sometimes idiocy. In fact, he admired Dan and his attention to schoolwork and unwavering politeness. Clearly though, Dan didn’t view it as such. He looked at his boyfriend’s petite, dejected frame and felt himself caving.

He sighed, “Maybe I could show you a thing or two. You know, if you really want me to.”

Immediately, Dan’s face lit up with a huge grin. “You really mean it?” He exclaimed, grabbing onto Phil’s bicep and looking up at him with his big, puppydog eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Phil shrugged. He tried to look nonchalant but he was smiling.

“Wow,” said Dan, sitting back in his seat. He kicked up his iridescent Doc Martens onto the dash and leaned back, adjusting his pale pink flower crown on his head. “I’m going to be a badass!” He exclaimed.

I. Caramel Macchiatos > School

It was an uncharacteristically warm and sunny day, making it all the more painful that Dan was trapped inside his maths class listening to a lecture on polynomials. Mr. Binns, in addition to monitoring detention after school, somehow still retained his job as a maths teacher despite the fact that he didn’t believe in technology, or really anything that existed post-early 1900s. Therefore, instead of having the convenience of Smart Boards or slideshows, he opted for the grating squeal of chalk on a blackboard, and lecturing endlessly from the textbook.

Outside, the wind was blowing lightly through the leaves, and Dan couldn’t help but be envious. Much like Smart Boards and slideshows, Mr. Binns didn’t seem to believe in air conditioning either. The room was hot and stuffy, and Dan was craving a gentle breeze that cooled his cheeks and rustled through his hair. Honestly, anything that wasn’t “how to solve a polynomial equation.”

He reached into his pocket for his phone to check the time, and to his delight, found a message from Phil sent five minutes prior.

Phil: I might actually die if I don’t get some caffeine- send help

Dan smiled at the message and the multitude of emojis with Xs for eyes. He looked cautiously side to side before typing out a response in his lap.

Dan: lolzor i might die of boredom first. i can feel my life force fading

Phil: We’ll have a joint funeral

Dan: where they can only play “thnks fr th mmrs” on repeat

Phil: We can get ironically buried in a couples coffin

Dan: and then our ghosts can hang out and haunt mr binns

Phil: Well, as appealing as that sounds, I’d much prefer it if you didn’t die. I’m coming to rescue you 

Dan: ???

Phil: You said you wanted to be a badass? Meet me by your locker after maths- we’re skipping. LESSON #1 STARTS TODAY!!!

Underneath were several confetti emojis and smiley faces that greatly juxtaposed the supposed “badassery” of what they were about to do. He’d never done anything like this before, and it made his heart skip with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After all, he’d felt bad enough just texting in class. However, he couldn’t deny the underlying itch to give into his impulses and just do it. To be fun and spontaneous with his boyfriend without worrying about the consequences. To be more like Phil.

Fuck it, he decided, unlocking his phone and quickly sending a reply.

Dan: okay. i’ll meet u there

Phil: Sounds DANTASTIC

Phil: ;D

Dan: i will actually kill u

Phil: <3

Class couldn’t end quickly enough. Any attempt Dan had made at taking notes earlier had gone out the window. Instead, he drifted in and out of focus and messily doodled in his notebook. When the bell rang, he was the first one out of his seat, bolting for the door and turning the corner to head to his locker.

Phil was already waiting for him, smiling when he saw Dan approaching down the hall.

“You ready?” He asked, taking in the nervous expression on Dan’s face. “We don’t have to. I don’t want you to get into any trouble anyways.”

Dan thought about his upcoming lessons in French and Chemistry and shuddered. No. He refused to spend another moment in this hell-hole today.

“No, let’s go,” he said, dialing open his locker and gathering his books (just because he was skipping didn’t mean he wouldn’t still do his homework when he got home). 

And with that, Phil grabbed his hand and they took off down the hall.

“Where are we going?” Dan asked, giggling as Phil tugged him through crowds of slow-moving students, all making their way to class.

“You’ll see, I have a plan!” Phil said, pushing open the doors and flooding them in sunlight. They raced through the parking lot, trying to stay as low to the ground as possible as they dodged around cars and scanned for prowling teachers. Finally, they made it to the pavement. They slowed to an easy stroll as they started down the open road, watching the school get smaller and smaller behind them. Phil had taken his hand again, swinging it as they walked, and Dan felt like he could breathe a bit easier.

“The worst is over, see? We made it out of the parking lot,” he said with a reassuring squeeze. While Dan still had to resist the temptation to duck behind a bush whenever he saw a car passing, he figured it was probably better than whatever verbs he would be conjugating in French class right now.

They walked for a while down the quiet streets, passing little houses and shops, until Phil finally stopped them in front of a Starbucks.

“Was this just because you needed caffeine so badly?” Dan asked, looking up at the bold green lettering outside the store front.

“Maybe…” Phil admitted, holding the door open for them to walk in. Immediately, the sharp scent of coffee beans hit his nose, making him inhale deeply. “I also wanted to treat my wonderful boyfriend to commemorate his first time cutting class, of course. It’s killing two birds with one stone.”

Dan just rolled his eyes, lamely trying to suppress a smile while they walked up to the cashier. 

“Same as usual?” Phil asked him, digging out his wallet.

“You know me so well,” he said, letting go of Phil’s hand to stake out a table by the window. Moments later, Phil returned with two iced caramel macchiatos and set them down on the table.

“Thank you kind sir,” said Dan, plunging his straw into his drink and taking a sip. It was damn good, too. The perfect pick-me-up after a long lesson on polynomials and other forms of math he would probably never use. 

They chatted for a bit, mostly about silly things like the specific details of their joint funeral, or exactly how old was Mr. Binns? After a while, Dan had determined that yes, this was definitely better than any class he would be in at school right now.

“So I was thinking about getting a new tattoo,” Phil said casually, stirring the ice in his drink around with a straw. “I wanted to know what you thought about the design.”

“You mean you drew it out already?” Dan asked excitedly, scooting forward in his seat. 

“Kind of. It’s a rough sketch and I’m still working on it,” he cautioned, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a piece of notebook paper. On it was a detailed ink drawing of a dragon, it’s body curved in a looping arch. It’s mouth hung open, revealing a row of sharpened teeth, poised to strike. The scales were dark, with lighter patches that made it look almost shiny and reflective. It was incredible, even for a sketch.

“Holy shit,” said Dan, tracing his hand lightly over the outline of the dragon. “‘Rough sketch’ my ass. Phil this is awesome! Where are you going to put it?”

Phil beamed at his response. “I was thinking right around here,” he said, tugging down the collar of his shirt and running his index finger along his neck and down to his clavicle. 

“Well I love it,” said Dan matter-of-factly, sitting back in his seat. “It’ll be so cool, you’ll almost need like, a new identity once you get it. You’ve transcended into the top tier of being a punk.”

“You can now refer to me as- PHILGON.”

“Okay, that ruined it,” Dan said, laughing as he got up to throw their drink cups away. “Just because you have a few cool tattoos, that doesn’t take away the triforce on your buttcheek.”

“Honestly, I’m just impressed that Chris did as good of a job on it as he did.”

“It was a learning experience! Now you know- don’t drink and let your friends tattoo your ass.”

“Never again,” Phil agreed, standing up and extending a hand out to Dan. “Anyways, want to get out of here?”

“Sure,” said Dan, letting Phil help him up and then grabbing his backpack off the floor. Within moments, they were off, strolling down the pavement and enjoying the bright autumn air once again. The leaves were just starting to turn orange and fall off one by one, smattering the ground. Dan made it his business to step across all the ones he could find and have them crunch under his feet, while Phil looked for acorns and burrs to throw at Dan when he wasn’t looking. 

“I’ve got to go back and get my car, but I’ll walk you home,” Phil said eventually, turning down the road that lead to Dan’s house. Dan’s parents wouldn’t be home until five, so hopefully, aside from noticing his considerably brighter mood, they wouldn’t suspect a thing.

Finally, they arrived on Dan’s porch promptly eight minutes before school let out. Not bad timing, all things considered.

“You know, that actually wasn’t too bad. I kind of like breaking the rules,” Dan said cheekily.

“Yeah well, it’s much more fun when you’re with me,” Phil admitted. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Dan echoed, standing on his tiptoes to give Phil a kiss on the lips. They said their goodbyes and Phil hopped off the porch to go back to his car, while Dan unlocked his front door and bounded up to his room. He threw his backpack onto his bed and began to sort through his homework, wondering how exactly he would begin to make up the work he missed in class.

II. Phil Thinks Circles Are Sexy

“Okay… How do I do this again?” Dan asked, looking nervously towards Phil, who was sitting cross-legged beside him. He felt kind of stupid, having never smoked weed once in his entire 18 years of life, but he figured that there was no better time than now to check that off the list.

“Here, I’ll show you,” said Phil. He had given Dan a general explanation, but figured it was probably best to just give him a visual example. He took the bowl off of Dan’s hands and began to pack in a small, greenish-brown nugget.

“All you have to do is light it, and make sure when you inhale, you hold your finger over this little hole right here,” he said, pointing to the carb on the side. Carefully, Phil flicked on the lighter and, tilting his head, lit the bowl and inhaled. Dan wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was extremely pungent, and smelled kind of like a skunk and basically every concert he had ever been to. 

After a long drag on the pipe, Phil leaned back and coughed into his sleeve, thumping himself on the chest a little as he did so. 

“Sorry, I haven’t done this in awhile,” he said, his voice the tiniest bit scratchier. He passed Dan the bowl and the light and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

With slightly shaking fingers, Dan flicked the cheap lighter on. He took a deep (and final) breath of normal air, and with all the deadset determination he could muster, put his lips on the pipe and lit the bowl again.

His lungs were on fire as he inhaled, and almost immediately he pulled back and began coughing heavily.

“Christ on a bike,” he said, his eyes watering as Phil passed him a bottle of water. “That’s horrible.”

“It gets easier the more you do it,” Phil said, patting him gently on the back. Dan took a tiny sip of water and motioned for Phil to pass him the bowl again.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” Dan rasped as he flicked on the lighter once more. Phil was right. It was still horrible, but it got easier with every hit. They sat together for a while, passing it back and forth while the room and their clothes slowly saturated with the smell of cannabis. 

A little bit of time had passed, and Dan was wondering if he was feeling something.

Music was playing softly around them as they sat together on the carpeted floor, but Dan wasn’t quite sure what it was. He felt a bit like he was floating, but simultaneously like he was going to melt right into the floor.

“Isn’t this supposed to make you more creative? I don’t feel creative, I feel like a potato,” he said with a frown. At that, Phil burst out laughing so hard he started to snort, and had to cover his mouth with his hands.

“It’s true!” Dan protested, the corners of his mouth upturning against his will. At the moment, he was more fascinated with running his hands through the shag carpet than churning out deep poems or lyrical masterpieces. 

Phil had doubled over on the floor, shaking with laughter, and just watching him made Dan start to giggle too. It was incredibly stupid. And infectious.

“We should do this more often,” he said through giggles, scooting closer. Phil had sat back up, wiping his eyes and leaning back against the ugly green couch that he had jammed into his tiny bedroom. It would probably be comfier to actually sit on the couch, but Dan couldn’t bring himself to move from the floor. Instead, he just flopped over on his side and leaned his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“You’re too bony,” he complained. Unlike him, Phil was all angles, sharp juts of bone that protruded out from his body. “If you were a shape, you’d be a triangle. Too pointy.”

“Hmm.” Phil reflected on that for a moment. “Well if I’m a triangle, then you’re a circle.” It was true. Dan was much softer than him, with rounder and fuller features. He was still a slight, small boy, but where Phil had edges, he had gentle curves.

“Ew no, give me a cool shape.”

“Circles are my favorite shape,” he replied, poking Dan in the belly.

He trailed his fingers slowly over Dan’s side, featherlight motions up and down that made Dan’s hair stand on edge. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely a circle,” he said, looking down to meet Dan’s eyes. God, he had such pretty eyes. They were big, brown, and doe-like, even through the hazy redness surrounding his iris. Fuck, he was really fucking stoned.

“I don’t know why we’ve never done this before,” he continued, bringing his hand to rest lightly against Dan’s cheek. With practiced fingers, he laced it through Dan’s hair, pulling him close, and gently pressed their lips together. Dan sighed into him, letting his hands wander around Phil’s chest. Together, they found a slow, lazy rhythm of open mouthed kisses, relishing in the soft exhale of breath and the gentle slide of tongue.

Before long, Phil had shifted their position, gripping Dan’s hips and pressing his thigh between his legs. Dan let out a soft moan and unconsciously began to grind down on him, moving his hips in slow circles against his body. It was good, oh so good, and he needed more. He could feel the drag of Phil’s snake bites on his neck as he began to suck along the sensitive flesh, making him jump. 

“Phil,” he moaned, leaning his head back against the couch as Phil continued to kiss along his collarbone. With any luck, he would be left with some delicate purple marks to admire the next day. Dan stopped him long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside, and Phil did the same with his own before they were kissing again, and Dan was moaning and pressing their bodies even closer than they were before. 

“Need more,” he mumbled. His movements were becoming more and more frantic as he ground against Phil, desperate to be touched. Phil smiled and kissed Dan on the lips once more before moving between his legs and briefly palming his erection through his jeans. His hands were deft, like he didn’t even need to think before unclasping Dan’s belt and tugging down his jeans and underwear, letting his cock spring free. It was smooth in his hand, slightly curved, and the tip was already pink and leaking with precum. 

Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Dan’s sharp intake of breath as he began stroking him, giving him the friction he so desperately craved. He was so beautiful, his back curving in the perfect arch and the way his breath came in little pants and gasps. Watching him was driving Phil absolutely mad.

“Here, I have an idea,” he breathed, taking his hand away from Dan’s dick and making him whine. He crawled along the floor to search through his bedside drawer, while Dan whimpered and bucked his hips into thin air, telling him to hurry up. He was still stoned and could barely think when it came to non-instinctive matters, so he was quite proud when he successfully tracked down the clear plastic bottle of lube he kept for situations like this.

Without further ado, Phil leaned back against the couch next to Dan, unzipped his pants, and tugged down his boxers to free his aching cock. It took all of Dan’s might not to start drooling at the sight of it. Without removing his gaze, he kicked off his jeans completely and clambered atop Phil’s thighs. Their cocks rubbed together, sending a jolt of electricity down Dan’s spine.

After he’d poured out a generous amount of lube, Phil reached over and wrapped his hand around the both of them, before he began moving up and down in quick, heated strokes. Dan threw his head back, releasing a deep and guttural moan into the room that made Phil pump them both even faster. God, he looked so fucking beautiful, almost writhing beneath his touch. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung open slightly in utter bliss, filling the room with a cacophony of moans.

“Phil I- I’m gonna,” Dan whined. Ordinarily, he’d be embarrassed about being so close already, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had a one-track mind, and Jesus Christ, Phil was swiping his thumb over his slit, making him shudder and gasp unexpectedly until he was coming over Phil’s fist.

The feeling of Dan, warm and whimpering and desperately rutting against him was too much. With a few more erratic jerks of his hand, Phil was coming soon after him, dripping white and hot over his hand and onto both of their chests.

Dan flopped backwards onto the floor and laid there in a heap, too tired to brush his sweaty fringe from his forehead or clean himself up. He felt like the definition of a hot mess. Literally. A hot, sticky mess who still had cum on his stomach. With all the energy he could muster, he picked up his T-shirt off the ground and wiped himself off with it, before rolling back over to Phil and cleaning him up too. Phil gave him a tired smile. Somehow, he managed to pull them both off the floor and guide them over towards his bed across the room.

Dan flopped face first into the center of the the mattress, sighing deeply before Phil forced him to roll over and make room on the green and blue checked duvet. He opened his eyes, face to face with Phil’s blinking alarm clock, and stared at the time in disbelief.

“What the hell, it’s only 9:30?” It had felt like at least a few hours, when in reality it was only about one that had passed. 

“Time is an illusion.” Phil’s voice was muffled from pressing his face into the pillow.

“That’s so weird,” he said, rolling upwards so he was facing the ceiling. 

“Shhh,” said Phil, eyes closed and blindly putting his hand over Dan’s mouth. They laid in silence for a moment, Dan transfixed with thoughts about the universe and how time was a man-made concept, until a rumble in his stomach brought him back to reality.

“Phil,” he said, prodding his boyfriend on the shoulder. “Phil are you awake?”

“…No.”

“Phil, I’m hungry….”

He paused a moment, silent, before sighing and reaching over for his phone on the nightstand. “I’ll order a pizza….” He tried to sound grudging, but failed miserably, (and to be honest he was starving too.)

Dan cheered. “Ohmygosh, never have I loved you more than I do right now in this moment,” he said, planting a kiss on Phil’s cheek.

“I know,” Phil smirked, dialing the number and putting the phone up to his ear.

III. How Many Dicks Can They Paint on One Wall?

The pavement slapped under Dan’s feet as he ran, hand in hand with Phil, before veering into the dark alley off to the side of the street. Louise was following close behind. Once she’d caught wind of what Dan and Phil were planning, she insisted that she come along as the “Mom-friend” to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand. Phil’s friend Chris was also in tow, but mainly for what he called “shits and gigs,” rather than “concern for their wellbeing.”

Dan was giddy with excitement. This was stepping up the “bad boy” thing to a completely different level, and while he knew what they were doing was wrong, he couldn’t deny how new and exciting it was. He watched as Chris set down his backpack, unzipping it carefully and pulling out can after can of colored spray paint. The glint of smooth metal in the moonlight was enamoring, and Dan squatted down to get a closer look. 

“Where did you get all of these?” Dan asked, turning over a can of “Chameleon Green” in his hand.

“Found ‘em in my dad’s garage,” said Chris, emptying out the rest onto the pavement. “He’s always working on weird projects in there and stuff.”

Phil glanced into Dan’s bright chocolate eyes and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He couldn’t help but feel extremely protective, which he knew, logically, was irrational and slightly hypocritical given the trouble that he always managed to get into, but he felt it nonetheless. Clearly, Dan could take care of himself, but that didn’t take away the fact that he was still 5’5 and had sweater paws. It was almost instinctive. If Dan noticed how apprehensive he looked, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just tossed him a can of dark blue paint.

“It’s your favorite,” he said, before emerging with a can of “Bubblegum Pink” for himself. He flashed Phil a winning smile, perfect dimples and all, and Phil felt his heart melt a little bit. He would never tell him, but even when Dan was trying to be bad, he was still too damn cute to pull it off.

“So… How do we do this?” Asked Louise, fidgeting with her can of bright purple spray paint. They stared at the massive brick wall before them, already marked over with random streaks of paint and grime. 

“It’s easy. Just shake it up, aim, and paint whatever the hell you want!” exclaimed Chris. Dan could hear the clink of a metal ball bounce around in the can as Chris shook it up. He removed the cap and, mere seconds later, was standing triumphantly next to a crudely painted blue penis.

“Jesus Christ, Chris,” Phil snorted, uncapping his own can and quickly spraying over Chris’s drawing.

“My beautiful artwork!” Chris mock-wailed. Phil gave him a shove and rolled his eyes.

Moments later, they were all immersed in their drawings on the wall. Louise and Dan were giggling at their failed attempts at painting. Dan’s bright pink cat was similar to something a small child would draw, and Louise’s purple flowers had turned out wobbly and lopsided. 

“It looks- it looks so angry,” she wheezed, gesturing towards the mess of pink on the wall. Somehow Dan had managed to give the cat angry eyebrows by mistake instead of whiskers.

Meanwhile, Chris and Phil were putting them to shame with their drawings. Chris had written his name in a jagged, swirling font, and minus a few wonky edges, it looked almost professional. Like classic graffiti.

“How did you get so good?” Asked Dan in amazement, looking back at his own pink blob on the wall. 

“By having lots of free time and a shit moral compass,” he replied, putting the finishing touches on the letter “S.”

Beside him, Phil was deep in concentration. His slender arms reached for can after can of paint and slowly, Dan could see the outline of a heart being filled in with a pink and red gradient. 

“Aw Phil! Is that for me?” said Dan, crouching down beside him to get a closer look.

“Shh! No peeking!” He exclaimed, pulling Dan’s sweatshirt hood (stolen from Phil) over his eyes and tugging the strings closed.

“You saw my ugly drawing,” he said, but Phil just shushed him again and continued painting. After a few more moments of hissing and rattling sounds, Dan heard the final clink of a spraypaint can dropping to the ground, and felt Phil’s hands on either side of his head.

“Okay, all done,” he said, pulling open Dan’s hood to show him his work. 

It was a heart, just like he’d thought, but with “D+P” etched in the center. It was good too. Phil was always good at art. You’ve got to be when you design your own tattoos. The heart looked shiny and three-dimensional, and Phil had even taken the time to add shadow and a tiny backsplash. It almost looked like it would pop off the wall.

“This is so good!” He screeched. His voice had climbed an octave and he gripped Phil’s arm in astonishment. Phil just smiled at him. Leaning down, he cupped Dan’s face and gave him a light kiss on the lips. He could hear Chris behind them pretending to gag, but he ignored it.

Suddenly, they heard the loud slam of a door being pushed open against a wall. Dan felt a surge of fear course through him as he whipped around and saw a tall, heavyset man emerging from the store next door, a trash bag in one hand and a cigarette in another. 

His dark, beady eyes widened upon seeing them, and the cigarette in his mouth slipped out of his lips and onto the pavement, the orange embers of light sputtering out on contact. His face flickered with bewilderment and then, rage as he took in the graffitied wall, the paint cans, and the group of petrified teenagers standing before him. It was then that he dropped his trash bag and began to yell and scramble towards them.

“SHIT!” Chris shrieked, scooping up his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. He grabbed a terrified Louise by the hand and practically dragged her with him as he began to sprint out of the alley. Dan could feel Phil pulling on his own arm, yanking on it so hard he thought it might pop out of its socket. Stumbling down the alley, he barely processed his feet moving beneath him, his mind completely blank except for a chorus of Run Run Run echoing over and over again.

“I’m calling the police!” He vaguely heard someone shout in the distance. The words shot another spike of fear and adrenaline into his body, making him pump his short legs even faster in an attempt to keep up with Phil. The grip Phil had on his fingers was tight and vice-like, but he ignored it and kept running anyways.

They tore down the street, chasing after Chris and Louise, when Dan’s shoe caught on the uneven pavement and he went sprawling onto the concrete. Pain flared in his chin and hands as he tried to break his fall, but ended up landing on his face anyways.

“Shit! Dan!” Phil cried, turning around and taking Dan’s face in his hands, inspecting him up and down for injury. “Jesus, are you okay? Please say you’re okay.” His voice was too loud and came out fast and frantic. Dan just nodded numbly, letting Phil pull him to his feet and dust off the gravel on his clothes.

“Here, come on,” he said, squatting down on one knee and holding out his arms. Dan stood, confused and unsure of what Phil wanted him to do. In the distance, he saw Chris and Louise grow smaller and smaller until they finally turned a corner and were out of sight.

“Come on, I won’t let you fall,” he said motioning Dan into his arms. He still looked panicked, but he mustered a smile and his eyes still held the same kindness and patience they always did. Dan’s brown eyes met Phil’s blue ones and his fear melted a little bit. He trusted Phil. They were going to be okay. 

He gave Phil a terse nod and before he knew it, he was being scooped into Phil’s arms and they were dashing down the street again. They rounded the corner and lo and behold, at the end of the street sat Chris’s car, right where they’d left it. Dan could make out Louise and Chris’s figures in the front seat, likely waiting for them to catch up with nervous anticipation. 

Using his final burst of energy, Phil picked up the pace and rocketed down the street, coming to a screeching halt before Chris’s car. He set Dan down and they both slid into the backseat, practically melting into the upholstery as Chris started up the engine and took off down the road.

“Are you guys okay?” Louise asked, turning to face them from her spot in the front seat. Dan looked over towards Phil, who was panting heavily, his hand sweeping back his sweaty blue fringe from his forehead. He gave her a weak smile and a thumbs up, too out of breath to say anything.

“Dan what happened to you?” she said, her eyes flashing with concern as she took in Dan’s exterior. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his face and hands were pulsing with a fiery ache.

“I tripped,” he said, looking at his scraped up hands. They were red and stung like hell. He probed his chin tenderly, feeling a bump that was already starting to form. “How bad is it?”

Louise reached out her hand and carefully tilted his head side to side. “Mmm, not too bad. You probably just need to clean it and stick on a plaster.” She patted him on the cheek gently. “I trust Nurse Phil to take good care of you,” she said, giving him a quick wink.

“Oh goddamn it!” Chris shouted suddenly from the front seat.

“What?” 

“I left all those cans of spray paint behind. Now I’ve gotta buy more to replace the ones I took from my dad!”

They all breathed a collective sigh of relieve. “Jesus I thought it was something actually important,” Louise snorted. “You gave me a heart attack.”

“Hey! This is a very serious matter,” said Chris, wagging his finger at her. Dan listened to him carry on about the costs of spray paint these days, but found it hard to pay attention. He was exhausted, and it seemed like Phil was too. His eyes were half-lidded and his breathing had finally evened out into a slow, steady rhythm. Dan unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled over to lean against Phil, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat and the slow inhale and exhale of breath. 

When they got back to Phil’s house, they sluggishly made their way to the bathroom and scrounged through the medicine cabinet.

“These plasters are ugly,” Dan pouted, holding up the box of tan colored adhesives.

“I promise I’ll buy you some cute ones tomorrow,” said Phil, putting the last sticky plaster across Dan’s chin. “But for now, let’s go to bed. Okay bad boy?”

“Soon enough, I’ll be as bad as you, Phil!” He exclaimed as they made their way towards Phil’s bedroom. He tugged off his shirt and pants and crawled into Phil’s bed in his boxers, closing his eyes and snuggling into the pillow.

“But I like you the way you are,” Phil said, dropping down onto the bed beside him with a muffled thump. 

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s chest, pressing a kiss against his shoulder blade. “Dan?”

But he was already asleep.

IV. Nothing’s Hotter Than a Janitor’s Closet

“And you’re sure you want to do this, like, one hundred percent?” Asked Phil for the thousandth time, shutting the door behind him and immersing them both in darkness. “We can always back out whenever you want.”

“For God’s sake Phil just kiss me,” said Dan, rushing forward and closing the space between them. He gripped Phil’s jacket with both hands and pressed their lips together, leaning forward and backing them against the wall of the tiny closet. 

To Dan, knowing that any one of their classmates could walk in at any moment was an oddly terrifying, yet sort of exciting prospect. When he’d first proposed the idea to add to his bucket list, Phil had been reluctant, not wanting Dan to take the risk of getting caught and put into serious trouble. However, after some mild convincing, (meaning, Dan stubbornly refusing to set the idea aside) Phil had agreed. The tempting promise of a blowjob didn’t hurt, either.

They kissed for a moment, briefly and sloppily, before Dan dropped down onto his knees, his slender fingers quickly undoing Phil’s zipper and tugging down his jeans. He lightly trailed over Phil’s growing erection, his fingers ghosting over the soft fabric, before yanking down his boxers to join his jeans. 

Phil almost slipped down the wall when he felt Dan’s lips wrap around his dick. The wet heat of his mouth was intoxicating, and he let out a low husky moan before sliding his hands into Dan’s hair for support. His back was aching pressed against the tiny closet wall, and he vaguely felt something digging into his shoulder but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Dan and the wicked slide of his tongue, dragging along his shaft and licking against his slit in a way that made his legs tremble and almost give out against the wall. 

“Jesus Christ, Dan,” he moaned, tugging against the strands of brown hair wrapped in his fists. Dan just hummed in response. He ran his thumb across Dan’s forehead, slick with sweat from exertion and being trapped in a tiny closet. It was making his hair start to curl.

“God, Dan, you were right,” Phil continued, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You’re so bad, such a bad boy, such a dirty little slut just for me.” He was was reduced to a babbling, incoherent puddle, cupping Dan’s head tightly, his hips bucking into his mouth. 

Dan’s hand had snaked down from Phil’s hip to his own pants, palming his own erection roughly through his jeans. He moaned on Phil’s cock, removing his other hand from the base of his dick to take him even further into his mouth. Phil’s every nerve was on fire, the pressure of Dan’s throat squeezing against his cock almost too much to bear. 

“Dan, I’m close,” he whined, tugging against Dan’s hair to warn him. Dan just continued as if he hadn’t heard him, bobbing up and down and taking as much of Phil as he could handle, his nose brushing up against the soft hairs at the base of his dick every few seconds. He had unzipped his jeans and was rubbing his cock frantically over the fabric of his boxers.

With a low moan, Phil released into Dan’s mouth, his hips thrusting erratically against the back of Dan’s throat while he swallowed around him, and finally pulled off with a wet pop. Phil slid down the wall, collapsing next to him on the floor and panting heavily.

“That was amazing,” he breathed, before tugging his skinny jeans back up his legs. Dan wiped the saliva off his chin with his sleeve and listened to Phil fumble with his zip and the click of his belt fastening. 

“Do you need me to help you-” Phil reached blindly for Dan in the dark, seeking to return the favor.

“Shit, ah, I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Dan. It was then that he felt Phil’s hand cup his now soft cock, feeling the wetness on the front of his boxers and-

“Oh shit…. You couldn’t have taken it out of your pants?”

“I- I was a bit preoccupied!” Dan sputtered, wondering how the hell he was going to go back to class with his boxers covered in cum.

“Sorry babe,” Phil chuckled lightly. “Here, just take them off.”

“Take them off?” He squeaked.

“Yeah, it’s not on your jeans right? Just take off your boxers and go without them.”

“Where do I put them?”

“Shit…” They had left their bags in their lockers, figuring it was best to limit what they crammed into the tiny closet. “Just leave them here, no one will know.”

“You can’t be serious!” said Dan, beginning to panic slightly.

“Do you want to walk around with cum in your pants all day?”

He sat in silence for a few moments, before reaching down and tugging off his shoes and unzipping his pants. “Hold these,” he sighed, passing Phil his sneakers in the dark.

Moments later, as they snuck out of the closet and sprinted hand in hand to class, Dan sent a silent apology to the janitor, who would hopefully never find the pair of pastel pink, slightly damp boxers wedged in the corner of the closet.

V. This Was Nothing Like Mortal Kombat

The final instance of Dan’s badass experiment happened completely on accident, and it all started because Dan needed to go to the mall.

Reflecting back on it, Dan would say that the new pair of shoes he got that day definitely made the whole situation worth it, but Phil would stand to disagree. They were sat by the fountain in the food court, idly licking the ice cream cones they had just bought and killing time before they were going to head over to Chris’s house. It was movie night, and Dan, Chris, and their other friends were outraged after discovering that Phil had somehow never seen the original Star Wars trilogy. 

“Can you hold this for a second? I’m going to the bathroom,” Phil said, standing up and passing Dan his cone. His own cone of black raspberry chip was long gone. “And don’t eat it! I’ll know!” He warned, flicking two fingers from his eyes to Dan’s as he headed down the busy hallway.

Dan gave him an angelic smile, and as soon as Phil was out of sight, took one small lick of his cone. He would never know. In fact, he was in the middle of rationalizing stealing a second lick when he saw it. Well, them.

“Oh my God, what the hell is he wearing?” snickered the tall, trollish looking boy to his two friends.

Dan looked down at his clothes. To be honest, he was growing a bit tired of this pink jumper in particular, but that didn’t mean he thought it was ugly. In fact, it matched quite well with his white jeans and his flowery creepers.

“He looks like a fucking fairy,” sneered the shorter one. His pompous demeanor and slick blond hair reminded Dan of Draco Malfoy.

It’s not like Dan was unused to comments like this. It’s just that they happened a lot less frequently whenever Phil was around. People tended to take one look at his piercings and towering physique and clamp their mouths shut. This time, however, Dan was on his own.

He could hear them approaching his seat by the fountain, their vicious chatter growing louder and louder. The palms of his hand began to sweat a little as he scrolled through twitter, keeping his eyes trained on his phone.

“Hey! Fairy princess!” The troll called. “What the fuck are you doing, dressed like that in public?”

Dan could not believe this was happening. “Leave me alone,” he said stiffly, without looking up from his phone. They were walking dangerously close to him, the leader of the pack only a few feet away. He must have been at least six foot, a good seven inches taller than Dan and probably twice the weight.

“Aw, fairy princess wants us to leave him alone,” he drawled, looking over to his two cronies. He was planted directly in front of Dan now, his arms crossed in a stupid attempt to look threatening. “You’re practically asking for it. Bet you wish that ice cream cone was some guy’s dick, huh?” At that, his friends began to snicker behind him.

“Fuck. Off.” Dan said through gritted teeth, setting down his phone and looking up to glare at them. Phil’s ice cream cone was beginning to melt and drip down his hand.

“Whatever,” he sneered, looking back to glance at his friends. “He’s probably a fucking faggot anyways. Don’t let him touch you and give you AIDS.”

Dan’s felt all the blood in his body rise to the surface of his skin and begin to boil. How fucking dare he say that. How fucking dare he. Before he knew what was happening, Dan felt himself standing up, clenching Phil’s ice cream cone in a death grip, before rearing back and bitch slapping him right in the face with it.

There was a moment of silence as the boy processed the trickle of mint chocolate chip down his face, the bits of waffle cone stuck in his hair, and the angry red handprint on his cheek. Dan stood petrified, his arm frozen in the air and slick with ice cream that was dripping down his sleeve. Slowly, the troll and his friend’s faces shifted from wide eyed shock into vicious snarls.

“What the FUCK!” he screeched, before furiously swinging his arm forth and decking Dan in the eye. He felt himself falling backwards, legs bumping against the edge of the fountain and tumbling right over the side and into the water. 

Jets of water entered his nose and mouth, choking him as he tried to escape. He was so disoriented, he could only try and crawl backwards, his hands scrambling for purchase on the cool marble of the fountain, his heart thumping wildly in his chest

Soon enough, he heard splashing and felt a fist grabbing him by his jumper. Wet strands of hair fell in his eyes and he couldn’t see, he could only brace himself for the inevitable sharp kick to the ribs, or the bloody crack of a fist to his nose. He squinched his eyes shut, blindly trying to cover his face until suddenly, the grip on his shirt wasn’t there.

“Get the fuck away from him!” someone roared, followed by the loud smack of what Dan assumed to be a fist on skin. Phil. He’s come to rescue me, Dan thought weakly, opening his eyes and pushing back his wet fringe. 

Phil was on the ground, tackling the troll boy and landing a few good punches before his friends clamped onto his arms and pulled him off. He went sprawling on the tile while the tall boy moaned and cupped his face in his hands. People around them were screaming and calling for security, and Dan began to scramble towards the edge of the fountain. He had to get to Phil.

As he sloshed through the fountain water, Dan saw several mall security guards running over to break apart the fight.

“You three again?” one of them snapped, dragging the one who looked like Malfoy across the tile and away from Phil.

“He started it!” He cried, gesturing towards Dan, who was still sitting in the fountain, soaking wet. “It was only self defense!”

The guard took one look at Dan’s tiny, shivering frame, clad in flowers and pink, and rolled his eyes. “Of course it was,” he said, dragging him upwards onto his feet. “When I distinctly remember it was you three with the lifetime ban from this mall in the first place. Come with us, please.”

Dan heard the sounds of weak protests as two of the guards ushered them out of the food court and down the hallway. He looked over towards Phil, who was breathing heavily, his eyes wide and panicked before making eye contact with Dan.

Dan winced as pushed himself out of the fountain, sopping wet and dripping all over the floor as he rushed over towards him. Immediately, Phil was scrambling off the floor and pulling Dan into a tight embrace, closing his eyes and leaning down to press his face into the shorter boy’s neck.

“Are you okay?” He asked, finally pulling away. He cupped Dan’s face in his hands and inspected him up and down.

“I’m fine,” Dan groaned, trying to ignore the pain shooting through his eye and the bumps from where he’d fallen into the fountain. “Let’s just get out of here.” 

Just as they were turning to go, one of the security guards approached them.

“Look, we know those three probably instigated this, but a fight is a fight. We’re not arresting you or getting the law involved, but in the interest of everyone here, we think it’s best if you didn’t come back to this shopping center.”

Dan bit his lip. “Okay,” he said, collecting his stuff and wrapping his arm around Phil, who walked them towards the exit. He could feel the hot pressure of people’s stares on his back, but he tried his best to ignore them and make the most dignified exit he could muster.

The drive back was quiet, and when they arrived at Dan’s house, they raided the freezer for ice packs and quietly snuck up to Dan’s room. He’d have to explain his rapidly swelling eye to his parents sooner or later, but for now, he didn’t want to deal with the interrogation.

“Did they hurt you?” Dan asked, wincing as he pressed the frost covered plastic of the ice pack against his tender eye. He noticed a light pattern of bruises that was forming across the expanse of Phil’s knuckles.

“I’m fine,” he said, waving off Dan’s concern. “Just a few bumps is all.”

“This is my fault,” Dan said, biting his lip. “It’s because I hit him. I know I shouldn’t have I just couldn’t-”

“Wait,” said Phil, cutting him off. “You hit him first?”

“Well, yeah.” Dan looked at the ground, embarrassed. “He- he called me, you know, a fag and it just made me so mad that I slapped him in the face with your ice cream cone.”

Phil’s look of confusion slowly spread into an amused grin and he shook his head. “You are one badass dude, Howell,” he said. Dan stared at his feet and blushed.

“I’m still sorry though.”

“Don’t be, just please, don’t try and fight a guy twice your size again, alright? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“Okay,” said Dan shyly, while Phil handed him a towel and a pair of pajamas from his room.

“Also, you owe me another ice cream cone.”

“Deal,” said Dan, smiling as he towelled off his wet hair.

I. Star Wars and Chill

After taking a few painkillers, Dan emerged from the bathroom and settled into bed, booting up his laptop and motioning Phil over to sit next to him.

“Just cause we’re skipping out on our friends doesn’t mean I’m not gonna hold you to this,” Dan teased, opening the disc slot and popping in Star Wars: Episode IV. Phil had texted their friends at Chris’s house, telling them they weren’t going to make it to movie night. Given the circumstances, they figured a quiet night in at Dan’s was probably best. 

“That’s you,” said Dan about thirty minutes into the movie, pointing to a lanky and grotesque looking alien at the counter of the Cantina bar. He was laying on Phil’s chest, and glanced upwards to see his reaction.

Phil just smirked. “Yeah, well that’s you,” he said, pointing to an equally ugly, nubby little alien sitting at a table in the corner.

“That one’s you, too.”

“No, that one’s definitely you,” they said, competitively seeking out the strangest looking aliens they could find throughout the movie. 

Once the credits were rolling, Dan stretched and sighed, moving his mostly melted ice pack from his eye over to the bedside table.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, despite the fact that I apparently resemble some of the ugliest aliens in the galaxy,” he chuckled, shifting his arms around Dan.

“Nah, you’re more like… Han Solo. He’s pretty badass, but on the inside he still has a good heart.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but he couldn’t help but avert his eyes a bit and blush.

“Aw, does that make you Princess Leia then?”

“You’re not supposed to know they get together yet!” Dan exclaimed, giving his shoulder a light shove.

“Dan this movie is almost 40 years old.”

“Well, I retract my statement. You’re not Han, you’re Jar Jar Binks.”

After a quick google search, Phil threw his phone across the bed in disgust. “Ew! Dan!” He shouted while Dan clutched his sides with laughter.

Once his peals of laughter had subsided, Dan rolled over and gazed up at Phil, quiet for a moment.

“I don’t think I like being a bad boy as much as I thought I would,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “It just… it wasn’t me, you know? I thought it might be, but I think I was more worried about you getting bored with me than anything else.”

“Bored of you?” Phil exclaimed in disbelief. “Dan, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He clasped both of Dan’s hands in his own, holding on tightly and looking him dead in the eyes.

“I mean, you’re so kind and thoughtful, even to people who don’t deserve it, and wicked smart. I could listen to you talk for hours, even when you’re waffling about nothing, you find a way to make it interesting. More importantly, you’re unapologetic of who you are as a person, and I love that. To me, that’s true bravery. That’s true badassery.” 

Phil,” Dan said, taking away his hands to cover his burning cheeks.

“Besides, I’ve missed you, the regular you.” Phil gave him a devious smile before scooting a bit closer, propping himself up on one arm, and letting the other rest lightly on Dan’s hip. Dan could feel pinpricks of arousal begin to shoot through him as Phil’s hand slid under his T-shirt and caressed his sides.

“And I know you missed being good, too,” he said lowly, moving his hand higher up Dan’s chest and rucking up his shirt. Phil could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest start to stutter as he circled Dan’s nipple, eliciting a small gasp as he brushed over it with his fingers. Dan was already trying to wriggle out of his shirt, wincing as the fabric dragged over his swollen eye and got stuck on his head.

“Careful now,” he said with a light laugh, easing the T-shirt over Dan’s eye and off his head. “Here, just lay back and let me take care of you, baby.”

“Oka-oh,” Dan’s giggle was cut short as Phil moved atop of him and began sucking along his neck, brushing over his skin so lightly it raised goosebumps.

“Is this okay? I want to make you feel better,” he murmured, looking up at Dan’s painfully bruised face.

“Yes, please.” His eyelids had fluttered shut and Phil could feel that he was already half hard beneath him. “Please, just don’t stop.”

“As you wish,” Phil said cheekily, resuming his path licking and nipping his way down Dan’s neck. Dan’s contented sigh shifted into a moan when he felt Phil’s fingers pinch his nipple again, making him squirm and arch against the bed.

“Tell me what you want babe, tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” Phil practically pleaded. Dan gave him an angelic smile, before tugging at the bottom of Phil’s shirt and whispering “Take this off.”

Phil sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head, stripping off his jeans as well until he was down to just his pants. He was smiling as he leaned down to kiss Dan, his movements slow and unhurried as he began to inch off the rest of Dan’s clothes, too.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” Dan whispered between kisses, feeling the soft flannel sliding down his thighs. 

If there was one thing Phil liked to do, it was compliment Dan. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, finally getting Dan’s pajamas all the way off and soon after, his boxers. “So pretty, the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.” 

Dan was lying completely naked beneath him, aching to be touched. He pressed his body fervently against Phil’s, running his hands up and down the tattoos on his chest and back. He passed over a heart, a roaring lion, even Phil’s triforce tattoo after dipping his hands into the waistband of his boxers and giving it a squeeze, for good measure of course. 

Phil pulled away for a moment and reached into the drawer beside them, finding the bottle of lube and pouring some onto his fingers. He pressed a gentle kiss to Dan’s temple, before reaching down and pressing one slick finger into Dan’s entrance.

Dan jumped slightly at the cold sensation, but quickly adjusted, all the while listening to Phil’s sweet murmurings in his ear. He could feel him insert another, and then another, crooking his fingers in just the right way that made him twitch uncontrollably, crying out and gripping the sheets tightly. Phil took his time stretching him, teasing him with his fingers until Dan was trembling and sweaty.

“Phil, please, I need you,” he begged, not caring how desperate he looked.

Phil made quick work of tugging off his boxers and throwing them aside, wrapping one hand around himself and giving it a brief rubdown with the excess lube on his hand. The pressure felt so good, and he was so needy with desire from seeing Dan go to pieces before him, but he resisted temptation and pulled his hand away. Besides, there was nothing more tempting than Dan, spread out and whimpering before him.

Phil crawled forward, leaning down and pressing a heated kiss to Dan’s lips before lining himself up and pushing in, inch by inch. Dan wrapped his legs tightly around him, his mouth slipping open and letting out little “ohs” and “ahs” as he slowly began to roll his hips. 

“Fuck, Dan. You’re so good, you’re so good to me. So soft and perfect and pretty-” Phil was practically babbling. He buried his face in Dan’s neck, breathing hot and heavy along the shell of his ear.

Dan was shaking with every thrust; Phil was hitting his spot so deep and slow in just the right way, he couldn’t pull him close enough. He was gasping and whining, clutching Phil so tightly, his nails left little half-moon indents on the skin of his back. Combined with the constant hum of praise Phil was giving him, whispered affirmations of “I love you’s” and “Such a pretty boy,” Dan was in heaven.

Phil’s thrusts, once slow and synchronized, became faster and more erratic as he lost himself in the warm, tight feeling. He could feel Dan’s cock, wet with precum sliding across his stomach with every jerk of his hips, and the closer he hugged Dan to him, the louder he moaned.

“Ah, fuck Phil!” Dan managed to choke out, struggling to buck up against Phil’s hips. The pleasure was becoming too much, arcing through his veins and threatening to spill over at any given second. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Do it, come for me baby,” Phil panted, shifting his weight into his left arm while his right reached down between Dan’s legs, pumping him and roughly thumbing over his slit until he was coming over his hand. He let out a long moan as his toes curled and he threw his head back against the pillow. 

The feeling of Dan, hot and spasming against him was too much. Phil felt a familiar tugging in his lower stomach, and with a few more heated thrusts, he was coming alongside Dan, spilling over his skin and onto the sheets. He collapsed beside him, both of them wet and sticky and breathing heavily, looking up at the ceiling with contented grins on their faces.

“Well that was-”

“Fucking awesome,” Dan finished, glancing over towards his sweaty, smiling boyfriend who had somehow already managed to get himself tangled in the sheets.

“Definitely,” Phil agreed, reaching over and linking his hand with Dan’s. They lay together for a moment, only the sound of their heavy breaths filling the air, before Phil rolled over to face Dan.

“So, flying straight from now on, huh?” he said, propping himself up on his elbow and smirking. 

“Not even close,” Dan giggled, rolling over and pulling him in for a kiss.

Notes:

Well, I'm up to date on all my posted phanfic!!! You can follow me on tumblr at danhowells-movingcastle to keep updated on anything I'm doing next if you'd like ^_^