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If Phil flutters his eyelashes at the waiter one more time, Dan legally cannot be held accountable for whatever he does in response.
They’re supposed to be on a date, something that is still quite a novel experience for the two of them, and Phil’s been flirting with the waiter all fucking night. Logically, Dan knows that's just Phil's default state — he likes to flirt, and he particularly likes to flirt in front of Dan — but that doesn't help tide over the jealousy brewing in his stomach every time Phil makes eyes at the nearest attractive man.
"What?" Phil asks after their waiter takes their empty dinner plates away and Phil has asked to see the dessert menu with hearts in his eyes that the fuck-ass waiter has reciprocated. "Do I have something on my face?" He wipes at his face blindly as he posits the question.
"No," Dan says, his voice tense, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. He doesn't explain further, relishing in the way Phil squirms under Dan's intense gaze.
They're interrupted by the arrival of the dessert menu, and Phil orders for both of them. The bastard bats his eyelashes again, and as soon as the waiter retreats, Dan jumps out of his seat.
"What's going on?" Phil asks, and Dan's pretty sure he's feigning his confusion; there's no way he doesn't know how much he's riling Dan up.
"Come on," Dan yanks at Phil's bicep, practically dragging him out of the chair.
"Where are we going?" Phil asks, eyes wide, but he follows anyway.
Dan doesn't answer. He leads them to the toilet, shoving Phil inside first before following after and locking the door behind him. The restaurant is nice enough to have single stall toilets, so no one should bother them at least.
"Are we going to have a fight?" Phil asks with a coquettish smile — he does know what he's doing. "Because I think—"
Dan doesn't let him say anything else before he pushes Phil up against the wall roughly, latching his mouth on the column of Phil's throat and biting down hard. Phil yelps a little, but it turns into a moan halfway through. He laces his fingers through Dan's hair and holds his head there as Dan sucks a vicious bruise into his neck.
Phil arches into Dan when he gives a particularly hard suck, lifting his back from the wall, letting Dan feel his half hard cock against his hip. Dan gets his hands on Phil's hips and pushes Phil back up against the wall, pinning him in place. Phil whines and wiggles in Dan's grip, but his strength is no match for Dan's and he is well and truly trapped.
Dan shifts his mouth a little, biting sharply at the skin directly next to the bruise already blooming, determined to have it take up as much real estate possible. Phil tightens his grip on Dan's hair and tugs lightly, the sensation going straight to Dan's dick.
"Dan," Phil gasps out, shaking a little under Dan's ministrations. "Please, touch me."
Dan pulls away just enough to whisper, "I am touching you," into Phil's neck, causing a shudder to wrack through Phil's body. "And I'm the only one who gets to touch you, yeah?" Dan lifts his head to look Phil in the eyes.
Phil's pupils are so wide they are making his eyes look much darker than they are. "Yeah," he says breathlessly. "Only you."
"Good." Dan dives forward to devour Phil's mouth. He takes pity on him and reaches between them to palm Phil's cock in his trousers, just to take the edge off. "I think I'll save this for later," he says into Phil's mouth after a good fondling. He gives Phil's dick a squeeze, then steps back.
Phil looks absolutely wrecked; his neck is bruised so nicely, a dark reddish purple that can't be mistaken for anything else but a hickey. His lips are wet and bitten red, both from Dan and from himself. His pants are tented, but they're baggy enough that Dan thinks he can hide it if he spends a moment calming down. Dan reaches down to adjust himself in his pants too.
"Right," Dan nods after a long moment where the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. "I'll see you back out there." And he unlocks the bathroom door.
"You're joking," Phil says with a pout. "I can't go out there like this."
"You can," Dan says loftily, then darker and more serious, he says, "you will."
Phil's eyes widen and Dan leaves him in the bathroom with the gobsmacked expression on his face. By the time Phil emerges and makes his way back to their table, their desserts have already arrived, their tab paid. There's no more reason to interact with the waiter, but Dan preens with satisfaction when he sees the waiter in the distance, staring forlornly at Phil's neck.