Chapter Text
Dan doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this.
He knows he needs to get over it, and he knows that everyone in his life is so sick of hearing about it. Phil, Phil, Phil.. It's all he can talk about.
His friends, his (relatively) small handful of followers and, Hell, even his parents- even his brother. They all know from experience that nearly every sentence out of Dan’s mouth legally must somehow involve Phil.
At first, it had been about how this ‘AmazingPhil’ guy had posted yet another YouTube video so hilarious with such good editing that it was simply a crime that the man hadn’t been picked up by some big-league producer or some shit by now.
That’s how that works, right? Dan doesn’t know. He just knows that Phil deserves it and makes sure everyone else knows too.
He’d drop mentions of things that the older boy had tweeted; songs that he’d mentioned liking, shows he’d recommended to his fans at large.. Things of the sort.
Now, though? Now it’s different. It has been for a while, ever since this past June, when Dan had oh so coincidentally started to become very vocal about his interests online.
Oh, he loves Final Fantasy! Muse is his favorite!
How funny, that all of his interests are Phil’s too.
Really, though, he does like those things. He and Phil do genuinely have so much in common.
But that’s not the point. The point is that it’d worked. Clearly Dan had done enough borderline-stalking and was good enough at convincing Phil to like him, because he’s currently sat on Phil Lester’s bed.
And, and, it isn’t his first time being here! Quite far from it, actually.
And he cannot get over it.
Phil knows, too, which isn’t as embarrassing as Dan thinks it probably should be. The only reason it doesn’t humiliate him is because Phil doesn’t make it humiliate him. He’s always just as excited to see Dan, to hang out with him and talk to him for hours online every night.
So, Phil knowing how admired and cool he is in the eyes of his #1 fan isn’t that bad. Besides, Dan’s pretty sure everyone knows.. primarily because, as mentioned before, he tells them.
But there are, of course, things that he doesn’t tell.
He doesn’t tell people how unequivocally in love he is.
He doesn’t tell people that Phil loves him back.
He definitely doesn’t tell people about all the things they do, what they’re really messaging each other about for hours on end.
Nor about how it’s now early December and the two had been officially official since they’d met in person in October. Or, at least, their version of official. They’d never had a conversation or a big ask or anything. It’d just sort of happened. And Dan couldn’t be happier.
Dan is capable of keeping his mouth shut about that, this, if nothing else. This is for him and Phil only.
..And, occasionally, for their followers as well when one of them decides to answer a question a bit too honestly. Or when they’d post incriminating Tweets just minutes apart. Or.. honestly, quite a few other damning threads as well.
But they love each other. So much. And they should be allowed to do that without people digging any further than the vague implications that they’re allotted.
But of course people have caught on. Rather openly, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with that in itself, and it’s only a portion of their collective followers.
What could go wrong with that? Surely it’ll die down in a couple years.. if they’ve still got such active followers by then. Ha. As if.
They'll be fine.
Years down the line when Dan looks back on this exact thought, he always laughs a little. Staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, in the middle of the night. He thinks a lot at this hour.
Initially, actually, he’d been thinking about the current Mystery In The Phouse, in which they’d found a small circle of sand on their bedroom floor. Coincidentally right after doing a goddamn ‘haunted bog’ investigation. If Phil fucking Lester brought a bog demon home, Dan is actually going to sacrifice him. He will.
He glances over to where he’s just barely able to make out Phil’s sleeping form in the dark, burrowed in pillows and the vast. Fucking. Majority.. of their duvet.
He loves him. God, he loves him so fucking much.
And, about the demon, he knows that it’d absolutely been a case of Phil moving a plant and the dirt falling from the drainage holes onto the floor. He reads the Phatreon comments, they’d solved it so quickly that Dan feels a bit stupid for not realizing it first.
Though, he also isn’t the one that left a circle of soil on the floor in the first place and then forgot about it and got scared, convinced that it’s from a demon.
But anyways. Phil doesn’t know this yet, so Dan lets him believe there’s a demon. It’s good for the occasional silly, dramatic, threat.. ‘I’m gonna let the bog demon getcha in the middle of the night! Load the fucking dishwasher!’. Adds a bit of variety.
Demons and dishwashers aside, everything recently has had Dan thinking about that first year a lot. It hurts his stomach a little. In a good way. Like those relentless butterflies when they’d filmed that very first video, in that messy room with that horrible green carpet.
That horrible green carpet boxed in with garish blue and green walls, where everything was only theirs. It was the only place up until that point in Dan’s life that he’d ever felt truly, entirely, safe. Phil’s bedroom.
There’s a common theme, Dan brilliantly pieces together, as he feels that same way now. Here, in their bedroom. Phil is the common denominator. Phil is safety. Always has been. Always will be.
Dan’s still staring at his sleeping boyfriend, he realizes. Not like that's very uncommon though.
Also, he needs like literally any more of the fucking duvet, because he always wakes up without any of it and this is why. He should just buy his own at this point.
A valid solution is to shift in closer next to Phil, careful not to wake him. So he does just that, managing to tuck himself up against Phil’s chest with his nose pressed somewhere between Phil’s neck and collarbone.
It’s a bit more of an awkward position now compared to when they’d first slept like this, sixteen years ago. He’d been the perfect size for this. The day they’d first noticed that Dan was suddenly taller than Phil was one for the books. Phil would tell him he’s still the perfect size, if he were awake right now.
But, hey, look at that! He’s finally under the giant fucking blanket that could fit them both normally if Phil wasn’t such a greedy bitch.
Dan loves him. He loves him so much.
Being in bed with him, like this, has to be one of his favorite feelings in the world.
And he’s felt that way ever since 2009, when the truth was still kept only in the confines of Skype sessions, chat logs and, at the moment, Phil’s bedroom. Anything that’s said or done between the two within these walls is private. Sacred.
..Besides that first video that they’d filmed, sitting on Phil’s floor, doing stupid shit while answering stupid questions. So fucking stupid, how much fun it’d been. How the butterflies in Dan’s stomach had been making him practically sick with their desperately wild fluttering.
But aside from that video, private and sacred.
Nothing could compare to how he feels when he's with Phil like this.
He’d gone to church nearly every Sunday during his formative years, and what he’s experienced in this room thus far has been the most religious experience of his life.
Right now, as he sits on Phil’s bed, this is the closest he’s ever come to God. Closer than anyone has, probably, as Phil closes the distance between the two. His hand is on Dan’s thigh, mouths now pressed together in a lazy, messy, electric kiss.
Surely nobody else has been touched by God in this way, right?
Biblically, this would make Dan the Virgin Mary. Which he’s been unsuccessfully trying to change for the last two months.
He’d never even kissed a boy like this until Phil, and that’s no secret between them. Sadly, though, it’s only served to make Phil unnecessarily cautious with his younger boyfriend, as if Dan hasn’t been very clear about how desperately he wants— needs— to have sex with him over these past couple of months.
Every time they’re together in person, which is all too rare, Dan is practically begging for it.
He’s swiftly pulled back to reality when Phil’s thumb glides a little further up his thigh, pressing into it. He bites at Dan’s lower lip too softly.
Dan wants those teeth in his fucking neck, if he’s honest.
“Phiw,” he sighs into their kiss, the L getting lost as he whines it into more of a W sound, as he’s simultaneously known to do yet is unaware of the fact himself. Phil doesn’t want to tell him out of fear he’ll stop doing it.
“Phil,” he tries again when the older boy just continues to kiss him.
“Mm?”
“Come on, please?”
He doesn’t have to elaborate in order for Phil to know what he means.
“Dan,” Phil pulls back from the kiss, licking his lower lip. Dan stares at it. “We cannot keep having this conversation.”
Dan rolls his eyes, the petulant teenager that he is. They’d done things over Skype more times than he could count, muttered horny promises to each other over the internet about everything they’d do in-person.
Yet, here Dan is. The Virgin. Fucking. Mary.
“Well,” he begins. “We won't have to have it for the rest of our lives if we could just..”
“Soon, okay?” Phil’s repeated that word every damn time they’ve had this conversation. Soon.
The conversation itself is stupid in Dan's correct opinion.
Phil wants to make sure that Dan, the person he loves most in the world, has a good experience. He wants to go slow, make sure that Dan is sure, wants to have ample time to give him everything he deserves.
Dan, being an eighteen-year-old fanboy, couldn’t care less about any of those things. He wants to have sex. He wants to have sex with Phil Lester, all the time, for the rest of his life.
“Okay, how soon?” Dan sits up a bit, placing a hand to the center of Phil’s chest. He pushes, forcing the man’s spine to the mattress as he promptly straddles his waist. Phil is distantly thankful at how much more confident his boyfriend has become in the past weeks. It's fun. “Tomorrow?”
“Dan.” Phil states dryly. Yet, his hands are like magnets to Dan’s hips.
“Later tonight?” Dan adds.
He leans down over Phil now, pressing a kiss just underneath his jaw. It takes everything in his power to not just bite. Instead, he kisses his jaw again. Then his cheek. Then his mouth. He whispers, lips just barely brushing Phil’s.
“I want you to fuck me, Phil.”
He can feel Phil’s fingers tighten on his hips.
“..Dan, I promise,” Phil assures as his fingertips ghost up Dan’s waist, under his shirt, making the younger man shiver, before his hands replant themselves on either side of his ribcage. “Soon.”
Dan frowns, but nods. He stays in Phil's lap but sits up a little, and Phil follows close after.
“..Okay.”
Phil has reassured him many times but, even still, that stupid voice in the back of Dan’s head insists that it’s because Phil doesn’t want him. Doesn’t find him attractive. Thinks that he’s a stupid, inexperienced virgin that Phil doesn’t want to waste his time on.
And, even worse than that, the voice has been convinced since day one that Phil was only dating him out of pity.
He hates it. He hates that voice, and he knows it isn’t true. Phil is good. Phil loves him. Phil wants him, wants this, so much that he’s waiting to ensure that Dan has a perfect first experience.
Dan knows, realistically, that Phil wants it. He hadn’t been so sure at first, but now, he knows. He’s seen it. Felt it under him, when they’re making out on Phil’s bed and Dan is sitting in his lap.
Still. Sometimes his thoughts catch up to him, just enough to almost convince him that all of his worst fears are true.
“Hey,” Phil’s voice brings him out of his own head. He’s smiling, thumbs gently rubbing where they’re still planted on either side of Dan’s upper torso. “I love you.”
Dan’s face feels warm, and he can’t stop a smile from overcoming him. His cheeks have been hurting ever since he and Phil had started talking. Even more since they’d started dating— since they’d met in person.
Is that sad? Had he smiled so little before this man that his face was now physically hurting? Is it depressing that his sides frequently hurt because he’s never laughed like how he does with Phil?
Maybe it is. Maybe that’s not normal. He doesn’t care either way.
“I love you more.” He breathes, gasping an inhale when Phil’s hands move yet again.
They first return back down his torso, fingers just barely touching skin as they glide down over the slight concave curve of Dan’s waist. Then back up, to the sides of his ribs, before they wander to his back.
It’s already a lot, Phil’s hands up his shirt, on his bare skin.. but then, fuck, he drags his fucking nails down either side of Dan’s spine. He inhales shaky and deep, closing his eyes.
God, he’s fucking hard.
“You know,” Dan shudders. “If you’re trying to convince me that waiting is a good idea, you’re really terrible at it.”
Phil huffs a little half-laugh, airy with distraction and arousal. Dan flutters his eyes open only to be met with Phil staring him down like he wants to fucking devour him. It’s all Dan can do to swallow the whine threatening to form in the back of his throat.
“I’m serious.” His hands come down to rest on Phil’s chest. “You’re torturing me. Is that what you’re into, Lester? Torturing poor little virgins for your own sick pleasure?”
Phil laughs again, and Dan has to bite his tongue to keep his own down.
“Maybe.” His hands come down Dan’s back again, only to slide forwards down the slope of his V-line. His fingers find useless beltloops, dipping into them to tug Dan just a bit closer. “Maybe you just make it hard to have self-control.”
Damn.. Dan likes the sound of that. The increasing discomfort between his legs makes that much obvious.
“So, what I’m hearing is that I could probably make you lose that self-control.. if I tried hard enough?” He makes an educated, and hopeful, guess.
Phil shrugs. His hands haven’t moved in a few seconds, still toying with Dan’s belt loops.
“I think you could make me do anything, if you tried hard enough.”
His words are a little quieter with that statement, making his voice a little lower as well. And that damn eye-contact; it’s like he’s trying to kill Dan, who has to take a slow, deep breath to avoid squirming under Phil’s hands and gaze.
“Mm.. well, I’d love to test that theory.” He tries to mask his growing restlessness and need with faux confidence.
“It’s not an invitation.” Phil giggles, hand coming up under Dan’s shirt to poke at the skin just above his waistband. “Just an observation.”
“An observation?”
“Yup!”
Dan wants to bite him. He wants to see how far he can push. How long it’d be before he’d manage to break Phil’s outward persona. He’s managed before, in the form of Skype calls and messages. Surely, it’ll be even easier in person?
He believes in himself. Kinda. Enough to try, at least.
So, he does. His hands, still on Phil’s chest, begin to lazily drag down the front of his torso. He lets his eyes follow them down to Phil’s belt, where he momentarily fiddles with the buckle before looking back up to meet his boyfriend’s gaze.
“I have some observations too, you know.”
“..Yea?” He takes the bait so easily. Always does, when it’s Dan casting the line. “Tell me.”
“Well, for one..” His left hand leaves Phil’s belt to instead grab his wrist, pulling it out from underneath Dan’s shirt. He intertwines their fingers, leaning in over Phil again. “I know you could make me do anything. You wouldn’t have to try at all.”
Phil doesn’t respond, just swallows, looking at their hands only momentarily before his focus is back up at Dan’s face only to find it much closer than when he’d initially looked away. Dan continues.
“All you’d have to do is ask.” Even closer now— he can feel Dan’s breath on his lips. He’s nearly whispering as he keeps adding, making Phil’s face hotter and his heart beat faster with every word. “I’d be good, Phil. I’d do whatever you ask of me.. anything, Phil,”
The words hang in the air for just a moment, the two boys breathing heavily into the little bit of air between them. The moment lasts too long, and Dan takes that as an invitation to keep going.
“You could put me on my knees, you know.” He’s reiterating what’s been said so often. If he can just get an in, if he can just get this going, he’s confident in his ability to send Phil over the edge. “Aren’t there other things we can do, if you wanna wait so badly?”
“..Dan.” Phil bites his lip, hissing a breath in when Dan’s mouth presses against his neck.
“You’re a terrible influence.”
“Mmnot.” His voice vibrates against Phil’s skin as their lips ever-so-slightly brush against each other. He pulls away then in favor of mouthing along the side of Phil's neck.
“You are.” Phil insists, because he’s right. Dan just squeezes his hand a little, mouth too occupied to argue again. “Alright, you’re gonna leave a mark, Da- Ow!”
Dan’s breath hits Phil’s freshly bitten skin as he laughs.
This’ll be easy.