Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Phil

The audience seemed to be loving it, but Phil couldn’t tell for sure. He’d never imagined that his band would make it out of his parents’ basement, let alone perform to this many people, yet here they all were - four mates from Rawtenstall, playing their hearts out on stage at the Roundhouse. Phil took a deep breath in, absorbing the moment before it could disappear, and exhaled.

“London, you’ve been amazing!” He shouted into the microphone. “We’ve got one more song for you.”

Phil nodded to the guitarist, PJ, who strummed a chord, letting it ring out and reverberate through the open space. He knelt down and turned a knob on one of his guitar pedals, creating a drone to start their final song. Phil heard the click, click, click, click of Jack counting them in on the drumkit, and cleared his throat before he began singing. The hum of PJ’s drone met with Hazel’s rumbling bass, rhythmically complimenting Jack’s minimalistic drum fills. As the song built up, Phil could feel the energy radiating from the crowd - anticipation, excitement, impatience. Sure, they were just the openers, but he could tell they’d garnered some interest from enough people to make the insultingly-low fee worth it.

As Jack counted them into the chorus, building in speed and volume, Hazel stepped up onto the drum riser - PJ following barely a beat after. Phil turned around, watching his bandmates crouch and leap off the platform as the chorus hit. He laughed into the microphone as the audience cheered, and he revelled in the feeling. This is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

A wave of anxiety washed over him as he remembered the long-forgotten uni assignment discarded on his desk at home. His parents, as supportive as they are of his music, always reiterated the importance of having a degree to fall back on, “if the music thing doesn’t work out."

Phil didn’t care - he just wanted to sing.

He shook the thoughts from his mind and forced himself back into the moment, surrounded by three of his best mates on the biggest stage they’ve played so far. PJ smiled at him, Hazel spun around until she almost fell over, and Jack gave him a cheesy grin and a nod as they all prepared to end the song. The four bandmates hit the final note, embellishing and making aimless noise as the crowd clapped and cheered.

“Thank you so much, London!” Phil yelled. “We’ve been Dandelion, stay safe everyone, and have a great night!”

Ears ringing, Phil helped PJ move his pedal board off-stage and grabbed Jack’s drum bags. Hazel has always had a system when setting up and packing down, and after playing together for nearly two years, everyone knows it’s best to leave her to it. Once they packed up, they made their way into the green room, where Jack flopped onto the couch unceremoniously.

“Holy shit!” Jack said, emphasising each syllable. “I reckon that was the best set we’ve ever played.”

Hazel nodded. “Absolutely, we locked the fuck in!” She pointed to PJ. “I love that drone you did at the start, it sounded incredible.”

PJ gave her a thumbs up as he chugged a bottle of water, and Phil laughed, pulling out his phone. The screen was filled top to bottom with Instagram notifications, and his eyes widened.

“Well, I think we got some new fans tonight,” he said, turning his phone around to show the others. “That’s the most story mentions we’ve ever had!”

He sat down next to Jack, PJ and Hazel following suit. They were all sweaty, and they reeked of body odour, but no one seemed to mind. As they tapped through their Instagram tags, reposting a select few, another notification popped up:

@danisnotonfire started following you.

“Ha, that’s a good username!” PJ chuckled. “Plus, that’s at least one more follower than we had this morning. We should check how many we got tonight when we wake up tomorrow!”

“Did he post any videos of us?” Hazel asked, taking the phone from Phil. She clicked on his profile and checked his story.

There were two or three photos to skip through, and Phil couldn't help but notice the similarities between himself and this boy. Similar hairstyle, but his fringe went the opposite way, and his hair was brown, where Phil’s was box-dyed black. Both wore black skinny-jeans and a white t-shirt, but where Phil found comfort in a colourful plaid button-up, Dan looked at home in a black faux-leather jacket. Even from the quick glances he got at the selfies, he could see that Dan was tall - much taller than the people he was with in the photos. If he had to guess, Phil would say anywhere from 5’9” to 6 foot.

Hazel tapped through until she got to the video he posted. It’s a close up on Phil, singing his heart out to the chorus of the first song they ever released. The camera gradually panned over to PJ, then to Hazel, then zoomed in to Jack on the drums, then moved back to Phil. The sound quality was horrible, and most of what could be heard was voices screaming the words rather than the actual band. He’d captioned it: I FUCKING LOVE @DANDELIONBAND_UK <3

Jack laughed and poked Phil in the side, teasing him, “Looks like someone has a secret admirer!”

“Oh fuck off, no I don’t,” Phil tried to say lightheartedly, but it came out somewhat defensive. Internally, he cringed, but the others didn’t seem to notice - and if they did, they didn't say anything, for which Phil is grateful.

They clicked off Dan’s profile and continued watching through their Instagram mentions, but something stuck in the back of Phil’s mind like gum to the bottom of a shoe, and for some reason, he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Chapter Text

Phil

From what little he could remember of the night, Phil was pretty happy with how it turned out. The band they had opened for invited them out after the show, to which they all eagerly obliged, and after that it was only bits and pieces; shots at a bar, pints at the pub, Nandos, holding Hazel’s hair back, inside the Uber, stumbling through the front door.

Rubbing his eyes, Phil groaned and slowly sat up in bed.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself. “Why did I drink so much?”

He reached over to his bedside table for a glass of water, and noticed his phone buzzing periodically. Taking a big gulp of water, he checked his notifications. Most of it was just the band group chat, debriefing the night before, or Instagram mentions. Phil opened the group chat:

Hazel (9:37 AM)

Morning all! Hope you’re well-rested and recovering

We smashed it last night & u should all be proud of urselves <3

PJ (9:40 AM)

this woke me up earlier than i needed to be awoken and for that i will never forgive you

Hazel (9:41 AM)

Go sit in the sun or something

PJ (9:41 AM)

no

Hazel (9:42 AM)

Do it

Jack (9:43 AM)

guys pls

im trying to sleep

Hazel (9:43 AM)

Alas, another has fallen victim to the ruthless HANGOVER

How u holding up @Phil?

PJ (9:44 AM)

phil’s probably still asleep

like i wish i was :’(

Phil (9:45 AM)

Good morning gamers

Hazel (9:45 AM)

PHILLIP

YOU LIVE

You were hammered last night!

Phil (9:45 AM)

Um if I remember correctly I was holding YOUR hair back

Hazel (9:46 AM)

Shhhhhhhh

We don’t talk about that

Jack (9:47 AM)

phil im glad ur alive but please

for the love of god

stfu

im so tired

PJ (9:47 AM)

just put ur phone on dnd

Jack (9:48 AM)

dungeons & dragons?

PJ (9:49 AM)

it’s do not disturb you muppet

Phil laughed and muted the chat; there wouldn’t be any important band discussions today. He opened Instagram, going through the band’s mentions again now that he wasn’t coming down from the high of the show. The good ones he reposted, the dodgy ones he just reacted with a heart to the tag, or sent a ‘thanks for coming!’ message. After a while, he came across a familiar looking video - a close up of him singing his heart out, then panning over to PJ, then Hazel, then Jack, then back to Phil. He turned the volume up on his phone, and was met with the sound of the lyrics being screamed, oddly in-tune, drowning out any hope of hearing the band playing. Phil checked the username, and it hit him - the brown-haired boy who followed them.

Hang on, Phil thought, if he only followed us last night, how did he know all the words?

“Phil! Breakfast!” His mum called from downstairs.

“Coming!” He called back, switching off his phone.

As he clumsily stumbled down the staircase, he couldn’t help but feel as though there was more to this Dan than initially seemed.

Dan

Dan woke up to a persistent buzzing next to his head. Slowly opening his eyes, he squinted at the bright mid-morning light shining through the gaps in his blinds. He turned over and checked his phone to see a flurry of messages from his uni friend, Cat, and a couple of Instagram notifications. Checking in with Cat first, he opened up his texts.

catrific (10:13 AM)

DAN OMFG UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE IT

SRSLY DAN UR NOT GONNA FUCKING BELIEV EIT

WAKE UP AND CHECK UR INSTAGRAM

RIGHT TF NOW

U LAZY ASS GET OUT OF BED

actually no u dont ahve to get out of bed just CHECK UR PHONE

DAAAAANNNN THIS IS LIFE CHANGING

CHECK UR PHONE

christ how bad is ur hangover

dan (11:24 AM)

yeah good morning to you too

what the fuck are you on about?

what’s happening on instagram?

catrific (11:25 AM)

DAN

FINALLY

OH MY GOD

JUST CHECK UR TAGS

AND SEND ME UR LIVE REACTION

dan (11:26 AM)

jesus christ cat

ok

checking now, will update u

Dan closed his messages with Cat and opened Instagram. He didn’t immediately see anything crazy, just Dandelion’s recap post from the night before and some stories he hadn’t seen yet. Confused, he scrolled a few posts down, but still saw nothing out of the ordinary.

While I’m here, Dan thought, I’ll just have a look at their post.

As Dan swiped through the photos from the gig, he smiled at their silly group pictures before and after playing, a Polaroid photo of Phil - the lead singer - poking his tongue out, videos of both bands having a wild night after the show was over. He double tapped the post, and clicked on their profile picture to see what they’d posted on their story.

And froze in his tracks.

They reposted his video. His shitty, way-too-drunk-to-have-access-to-social-media video.

Dan closed Instagram and texted Cat.

dan (11:28 AM)

you’re FUCKING KIDDING ME

catrific (11:28 AM)

SO YOU SAW IT

dan (11:29 AM)

why did they have to use THAT video ugh

i was so drunk

you can’t even hear them playing!!

it’s just you and me screaming

catrific (11:29 AM)

uhh you mean YOU screaming

you dragged me along to that show!

dan (11:30 AM)

…

fine

but that just makes it worse!!

Dandelion have heard my horrendous rendition of one of their best songs

genuinely i will never recover from this

catrific (11:31 AM)

nooooooo

i’m sure they thought it was sweet!

can you imagine if that was YOUR music someone was singing along to

absolutely wild

Dan sighed. His favourite band in the whole world - aside from Muse, of course - had reposted possibly the worst video he’d ever taken.

catrific (11:33 AM)

dan it’s fine i promise

also phil’s hot in that video so that’s probably all theyre looking at tbh

dan (11:34 AM)

lol true

“Dan!” His mum called from the kitchen. “Don’t forget you’re driving Adrian to his friend’s party today!”

“I know, Mum!” Dan called back. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms out in front of him. He checked his phone battery - 12%. Shit, he thought, I’ll have to charge it in the car.

As much as Dan hated driving, maybe it would be a good idea to get out of the house. Try to walk off this heavy feeling that had to have come from the mix of too much alcohol the night before and the dread of his favourite band seeing him in such a state.

He just hoped Cat was right.

Chapter Text

Phil

Phil stared in disbelief at his phone, at the Instagram direct message just sitting there:

@danisnotonfire (1hr ago)

hey! great show last night, you all were so cool. just wanted to say sorry for my screaming in that video you reposted drowning out your playing D:

Was Dan serious? Hearing people sing - or, in Dan’s case, scream - his lyrics back to him had to be one of the best feelings he’d discovered since starting Dandelion. While the people who knew the words were few and far between, Phil was grateful for every single one of them, and to hear someone screaming them the way Dan had been - well, that was just a treat.

He opened up the band group chat, still muted, and let out a soft chuckle upon seeing his bandmates discussing the exact same thing.

Jack (1:12 PM)

is that guy being fr

does he not realise it’s wild to us that he knows our songs??

PJ (1:14 PM)

ikr

Hazel (1:15 PM)

Guys be nice to him

He’s probably not in a band or anything so

He wouldn’t know the feeling

Phil (1:17 PM)

It’s actually really sweet that he knew all the words

Jack (1:17 PM)

oh absolutely yeah

just saying like

he doesn’t need to apologise for it

Phil (1:18 PM)

I might reply to his message if it’s alright with you guys?

Just let him know we actually really appreciate it

And how it’s sick that he knows the words

Hazel (1:18 PM)

Yes absolutely!

Go for it!

Jack (1:18 PM)

ye do it

PJ (1:20 PM)

i second that

well

third

fuckn

whatever

yes you can reply

Phil laughed out loud, and opened Instagram, instantly clicking into the message from Dan. He typed, deleted, and retyped over and over, until finally he was happy with his response:

@dandelionband_uk (1:31 PM)

Hey Dan! No need to apologise, it actually means a lot to us all that you know the words & were singing along! Thanks so much for coming, we really appreciate it <3

Before allowing himself to overthink it, Phil hit send. Letting curiosity get the better of him, he clicked onto Dan’s profile - just to see. He could vaguely remember a couple of photos they saw on his story after the show, before it all went blurry, but he wanted to see Dan again. Properly, soberly see him, and see if he still got that unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach when he looked into those eyes through the tiny phone screen.

There were only 3 posts on Dan’s Instagram, but Phil was drawn in instantly. The first post, from a couple of months prior, was a picture of a Polaroid laying atop a stack of CDs. The Polaroid was underexposed and hard to make out, but appeared to show two figures in a dark room - a tall, dark-haired boy and a shorter, dark-haired girl standing back to back, arms crossed and facing the camera. Muted lines of blue and red light could be seen streaking across the photo, presumably taken in the dark corner of a club. Phil tapped once on the image, seeing the girl had been tagged, and clicked onto her profile.

From what Phil could tell, following a quick deep dive through her posts, her name was Cat, and she had been friends with Dan since they were both young - middle school, Phil guessed. For a moment, he wondered if they were together, but that was soon thrown out the window when he scrolled up to her most recent post - a photo of her at London Pride, lesbian flags painted on her cheeks and holding up a sign that read “a day without lesbians is like a day without sunshine.”

Oh, Phil thought, why does that make me feel so… He struggled to think of the right word. Relieved?

He swiped back to Dan’s profile, and clicked on the next post, taken a week earlier; a candid photo taken in a record store. Dan was standing before a tub of vinyls, flicking through. Phil zoomed in to see which one he was stopped on and—

No way.

No fucking way.

He’d know that album cover anywhere - the rainbow of hexagonal shapes, arranged in a circular tunnel pattern, a lone figure standing at the base of the orange walkway, facing the earth. The iconic logo of the band Phil’s been obsessing over for as long as he could remember tucked into the top left corner.

It was The Resistance - his favourite Muse album.

Phil, you can’t get excited over this, he told himself, plenty of people like Muse!

So why did it feel so different with Dan?

Shaking off the feeling, he clicked on the third and most recent post.

And the feeling came flooding back at two times speed and intensity. Phil couldn’t help his mouth turn up into a smile as he took in the photo - a selfie of Dan in black skinny jeans, a leather jacket, and…

A Dandelion t-shirt.

This boy is becoming too good to be true, Phil thought, staring at the image.

Dan was looking up at the camera, a small smirk on his face and his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. The caption read: obligatory annual selfie over and done with. Phil laughed, his cheeks starting to ache from the seemingly permanent smile on his face. Switching back to his personal Instagram account, he searched for Dan’s account and hit Follow before he could second-guess himself.

Look, if Dan liked Muse and he was cool with queer people, and he liked Phil’s band - who was he to say no?

Chapter Text

Dan

What the fuck.

Dan stared at the Instagram notification on his phone screen for what felt like an eternity.

@amazingphil followed you

What the actual fuck.

The Phil Lester, lead singer of the Dandelion - only his favourite local band ever - followed him on Instagram.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. When he was certain it was, in fact, real, he opened up his messages with Cat:

dan (2:15 PM)

ASJDHAKAGAISHS

JSKAHSKSHDOSBAK

HDJSHAOXHCOSB

CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT OMFG CAT

catrific (2:16 PM)

DAN

JESUS CHRIST

WHAT

dan (2:16 PM)

IMG_097

FREAKING THE FUCK OUT

catrific (2:17 PM)

OH MY GOD

DAN

NO WAY

IS THAT REAL

STFU

dan (2:17 PM)

YES ASHAJSHJS

ITS REAL HAJSHAJSH

FUCKING PHIL FROM DANDELION FOLLOWED ME ON INSTAGRAM

catrific (2:18 PM)

UR FUCKING JOKING

THATS INCREDIBLE

DAN WHAT THE FUCK IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU??!?!?

dan (2:18 PM)

the real question is

why tf would he follow me

like

what is there that’s interesting about me

other than i’m a stupid huge fan of his band

catrific (2:20 PM)

dan cmon, you’re so cool

your music taste? impeccable

your fashion sense? amazing now that i’ve stepped in

who WOULDNT want to be your friend

dan (2:23 PM)

like

90% of people from school

and life in general

are you forgetting middle school

catrific (2:24 PM)

they were knobs

you know that

dan (2:25 PM)

still

catrific (2:26 PM)

daaaaaaaaan

stop that

youre the best person i know

ily

so stfu >:(

dan (2:27 PM)

ugh fine

ily2

Dan put his phone down and sighed. Why would Phil follow him? Maybe it was a mistake? But why would he be on Dan’s profile? Unless…

No, Dan thought, don’t start thinking like that. Phil is not interested in you like that, or in any way even similar to that.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder - what had drawn Phil to a nobody from Wokingham? Sure, Dan had posted a video of Phil’s band, but not his personal Instagram account! What were Phil’s intentions? Was it genuinely just a slip of the thumb?

Slightly panicked, Dan opened Instagram and checked his notifications.

@amazingphil followed you

Fingers trembling, he refreshed the page.

@amazingphil followed you

Still there!

So it wasn’t an accident, Dan allowed himself a small smile and a sliver of hope. Something had drawn Phil to him, and while it was real, Dan sure as hell wasn’t about to fuck it up.

Clicking back into his Instagram DMs, he re-read the message from Dandelion and reacted with a black heart, not trusting himself to say anything more.

Wait, should I follow him back? Dan had avoided following any of the members of the band on their personal accounts for fear of appearing parasocial and creepy, but surely if Phil had followed him, Dan could follow him back.

With shaky hands and hitched breath, he clicked onto Phil’s profile and, before he could overthink it, hit Follow.

Chapter Text

Phil

A wave of relief washed over Phil as he saw the notification pop up on his phone. Dan had followed him back! Regardless of true intention, he saw this as a win - that Dan didn’t think Phil was weird or creepy for following him on Instagram.

Maybe he’s just followed me back because I’m in Dandelion, Phil thought, but brushed it aside and opened up a new chat with Dan.

@amazingphil (2:46 PM)

Hey Dan! Hope you don’t mind that I followed you, after seeing your video from the show last night I saw a couple of your posts and thought we had some similar interests! The Resistance is my favourite Muse album EVER, what’s yours?

Without giving it a second thought, Phil hit send, and threw his phone face down onto his blue-and-green checkered bedsheets. He felt a buzz through the mattress almost as soon as it hit the bed, and grabbed it with a little more enthusiasm than he’d like to admit.

@danisnotonfire (2:46 PM)

hey! no i don’t mind at all, i was just surprised you’d wanna follow me after you’ve heard my horrendous singing voice lol >_< my favourite is definitely also The Resistance but Origin of Symmetry is a close second

Phil let out a sigh of relief - Dan doesn’t think I’m weird! - and started typing his response.

@amazingphil (2:47 PM)

I love Origin of Symmetry! My mum bought me the CD thinking it was something else and that’s actually how I got into Muse haha =]

Dan replied, Phil replied, and so the conversation continued. Phil didn’t realise how long they’d been talking until he heard his mum call from downstairs.

“Phil! Dinner!”

“Coming, mum!” he called back, quickly typing out a final message to Dan until he could come back and keep texting:

@amazingphil (6:02 PM)

Mum just called me down for dinner so I’ve gtg now, but it was so cool talking to you & getting to know you!! Would love to keep chatting after >_<

@danisnotonfire (6:03 PM)

i should probably get some dinner too. it was awesome talking to you and i also would love to chat again later =]

Phil shoved his phone into the pocket of his hoodie and made his way downstairs, a giddy smile on his face that he couldn’t wipe away if he tried.

—

Phil woke up in a hot sweat, memories of his dream fading fast but the lingering sensation in his tracksuit pants undeniable. He strained his brain trying, and failing, to recall anything more than dark hair and soft skin and skinny jeans thrown inside-out on the floor.

Christ, Phil thought, trying to compose himself before making his way to the bathroom, what was that about?

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and checked his notifications, seeing a handful from Hazel, PJ, and Jack, and three from Dan that caught his eye:

@danisnotonfire (3:47 AM)

hi i know ur asleep but i just wanted to say thanks for talking to me

@danisnotonfire (3:48 AM)

i’ve been a fan of ur band for a while and this is just so surreal to have so much in common with you and to think you enjoy talking to me lol

@danisnotonfire (3:50 AM)

but yeah, thanks ig =3

Ignoring the band chat, he clicked straight onto Dan’s messages.

@amazingphil (8:24 AM)

Damn, triple texting already? I must be special >_<

Hoping it didn’t come across as though he was annoyed, he added:

@amazingphil (8:25 AM)

Srsly though ur so cool, I should be thanking YOU for not thinking I’m creepy or weird for reaching out!

If ur ever keen to come to another Dandelion gig let me know & I’ll add u to the guest list xD

Phil turned his phone off, tossed it onto his bed, and shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower.

Dan

When Dan woke up, he realised two things:

One, he and Phil had talked for hours the previous day, well into the early hours of this morning.

And two, he was severely sleep deprived because of it.

Dan tapped his phone screen to check the time, realised it must have died overnight, and plugged it in to charge while he made some breakfast.

When he got back up to his room, Dan booted up his laptop and opened Discord. After Skype was shut down, he’d found himself craving a similar platform, and Cat recommended Discord. She helped him make an account and join some servers, and they’d video call most weekends if they didn’t catch up in person. Cat was one of the only people Dan had ever been close to - frankly, she was one of the only people who wanted to be close to Dan. His school days did a number on him, but he was slowly breaking out of that cycle with the help of Cat and her inner circle of friends. Dan wasn’t out to anyone, even though most of the people he surrounded himself with were queer, and anyone else was an ally. His therapist said something about past trauma and internalised homophobia, but he had yet to properly tackle that.

Once Discord had updated - it felt like there was at least one update every time he opened the app - and loaded, he saw that Cat was offline. Opening Safari, he logged into Instagram and checked his DMs with Phil.

After they’d talked until nearly 2 AM, Dan had the urge to thank Phil, as though he was doing some sort of community service. He’d never felt so connected to and understood by someone - not even Cat, who was the closest person he had to a best friend - and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being taking it for granted. For all Dan knew, Phil was taking pity on him. Maybe he just wanted to send a message to make Dan feel better for his horrific video from the show and didn’t intend to take it any further, but kept the conversation going as long as he did out of sympathy. Dan had to clarify, make sure he wasn’t overstepping.

Seeing Phil’s messages today made Dan beam - he felt the same! And he offered Dan a guest spot at the next Dandelion show! He hoped that was a genuine offer, not just a half-assed ‘yeah, gotta give this guy something for his effort’. Though it was hours after Phil’s reply, Dan typed like his life depended on it:

@danisnotonfire (11:14 AM)

that would be amazing tysm =D

and says u

u also just triple texted xD

Phil’s reply was almost instant:

@amazingphil (11:15 AM)

Oh hush

(Kidding please don’t stop talking to me)

Dan laughed as he texted back:

@danisnotonfire (11:15 AM)

wow phil desperate much

(kidding i would never stop talking to u)

Chapter Text

Dan

With each passing day, it was getting harder and harder for Dan to deny his growing feelings for Phil. Sure, he’d looked up to Phil when he was just the lead singer in Dandelion, but now that they’d been talking for a few weeks, it was starting to get noticeably different - and Dan couldn’t help but wonder if Phil sensed it too.

Their conversations mostly centred around mutual interests, like music or gaming, and they’d banter back and forth, but it was almost starting to change. The odd wink here and there, a little too much desperation now and then; Dan was loving it, but also fearing it, for lack of knowing what it meant to Phil. That’s one downside to texting - you can never really tell what someone truly means without explicitly asking, which he was not about to do when the risk was potentially jeopardising this new relationship with Phil.

More than once, Dan’s woken up hot and bothered from a dream someone really should not be having about their fully-platonic friend, but he daren’t mention it to Phil. He never really remembers much of these dreams, anyway - just enough to know that it’s Phil who he’s under or on top of or next to or…

His mind often wanders after the cold showers he takes to compose himself before talking to Phil in the mornings, lingering on certain memories of texts or calls. After Instagram went down unexpectedly they’d both decided they needed a backup way to communicate, so Dan added Phil on Discord, and thus began their voice calls. Dan can still remember their first call. No cameras, just voices, quiet in the midnight hour in which they’d become accustomed to talking.

“Hi Dan,” Phil whispered. Dan could imagine him, sitting in his room, headphones on, speaking softly into his computer mic.

“Hi, Phil,” Dan whispered back, just as quiet. He took out an earphone so he could hear his surroundings, just in case his parents decided to check up on him.

“It’s good to finally hear your voice.”

“My normal voice, you mean,” Dan heard Phil laugh softly. “When I’m not screaming the lyrics to your song.”

“Yeah, yeah exactly.”

It felt so intimate, talking to Phil like that for the first time - like Dan was hearing this version of Phil that was just for him. Not confident, outspoken Phil, lead singer of Dandelion. Not funny TikTok musician Phil, singing his heart out on the internet. This was gentle Phil, caring Phil - the real Phil, and it was all for Dan.

It’s a memory Dan frequently thinks back to, and he knows Phil does too.

“You remember the time we first called?” Phil asked, tentative.

“Of course I do,” Dan replied, wondering where this was going.

“I think about that a lot,” Phil admitted, “I hope that’s okay, I just… It was nice hearing your voice like that.”

Dan heard a shuffle and a snort.

“Sorry, that probably sounded really creepy.”

“No, not at all!” Dan rushed to say, “I… I feel the same.”

“You… do?”

“Of course I do, Phil. You were like, my idol, and you wanted to talk to me like you talk to your friends. That was so amazing, genuinely. Thank you for that.”

“Yeah, my friends,” Phil exhaled sharply through his nose.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

And the conversation had continued, seemingly not a second thought to it. But Dan thought about it all the time. Did Phil mean to say that he didn’t think he had real friends, or did he think of Dan as something other than a friend? Whatever the unspoken meaning, it was never brought up again, and that made Dan’s brain run amok. So many possibilities, none of which he thought were overly likely, other than the one that told him Phil was just being nice, he probably just had some drama going on with his friends and didn’t mean anything by it. Regardless, it was always present in Dan’s mind, just sitting in the back corner, waiting to be dwelled upon.

Over the weeks, Dan was growing increasingly annoyed with the way his mind would interpret these conversations with Phil, the moments it felt like more than just friendship. Each time, Dan would remind himself of who he was; just a fanboy who happened to have similar interests to the lead singer of a band, and nothing more to it.

But each time he talked some sense into himself, that stupid part of his brain that liked to dream would talk him back into it.

Phil

Phil couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t there. The way he felt every time he looked at Dan, how his heart seemed to skip a beat when Dan said his name with that gentle laugh and Phil could just imagine him smiling, mouth upturned and eyes crinkled around the edges. He couldn’t keep acting like this was a totally normal way to think about your best platonic bro.

More alarmingly, he couldn’t keep ignoring the dreams by pretending they weren’t about Dan.

The first time it happened, Phil had been ashamed. How dare he think of his friend like this? Was he taking advantage of Dan? He was a fan of Phil’s band, that power dynamic could not be healthy here. But whenever they talked, it didn’t feel like there was that shift, it just felt like he was with his friends, his family. It just felt…

Right.

The second time it happened, he could almost convince himself it wasn’t Dan, but the more of the dream that came back to him, the harder it was to deny it. Leather jacket forgotten on the back of Phil’s desk chair, hands grabbing soft brown hair, throwing black skinny jeans on the floor, hearing himself moan Dan’s name as skin pressed against skin.

The longer this went on and the longer Phil thought about it - try as he might not to - the more dreams he started to have, and the more intense they became. Then he started daydreaming, thinking about the Dan in those dreams when he was wide awake and talking to the boy himself. Phil tried to convince himself to put some distance between the two of them, but he couldn’t help himself.

Dan doesn’t feel the same, Phil told himself over and over again, I can get past this and he never has to know.

That irritating voice in the back of his mind would always taunt him with hope; How do you know he doesn’t like you? Maybe he feels the same!

Besides, even if Dan did think he liked Phil like that, it was more than likely just a celebrity crush. Not that Phil was a celebrity, of course, but to Dan he was something of an idol.

Each call with Dan was making it harder. They’d started to video chat on a regular basis - nearly every night - and seeing him so up close and personal without being able to touch him? Phil swore it was going to be the death of him. He should have been more responsible - should have controlled himself better. Instead, it just slipped out:

“We should hang out sometime.”

Chapter Text

Dan

How much deception can you take?

How many lies will you create?

How much longer till you break?

Your mind’s about to fall

Matt Bellamy’s usually comforting voice ringing out in Dan’s room through his Bluetooth speaker did very little to calm his nerves. Clothes strewn across the floor, desk chair, and bed were all clear signs of his blind panic to look the best he possibly could. Thank God Phil wouldn’t see his room today, they definitely weren’t going to be video calling.

Today was the day he was meeting Phil.

Dan figured listening to Muse’s The Resistance would help him relax, and simultaneously hype himself up for talking to Phil in person. It was the album that started their friendship, after all. Though, he’s not sure they can call it a friendship. Over the weeks since Phil suggested they meet, their conversations have become more daring. Innuendos, kissy faces, sexual jokes. While Dan hadn’t told Phil about his dreams, neither boy was doing any favours to stop them - the incessant teasing just adding heat to the fire permanently settled in the pit of Dan’s stomach whenever Phil was involved.

Eventually, he settled on blue-grey jeans, a white graphic tee, and a black-and-white checkered button up over the top.

“Dan!” His mum called from the hallway, “Are you almost ready to go? We need to leave soon if you want to make it to the train on time.”

“Nearly ready, Mum!” Dan called back, shoving his wallet, headphones, and portable charger in a shoulder bag. He slipped on his white sneakers and triple-checked his hair in the bedroom mirror. Dan took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, disconnecting his phone from his speaker and typing a quick message to Phil:

@danisnotonfire (8:22 AM)

hiiiiii i’m about to leave for the train station

it’s a good thing i like u or i would NOT be up this early

are u still meeting me at the station?

When he didn’t get a reply instantly, Dan figured Phil was probably still asleep. Fair enough, too - it was a long train ride from Reading to Manchester. Dan wasn’t scheduled to arrive until 12:40 PM, and that’s assuming there were no delays. He crammed his phone into his pocket, checked his hair again, and headed out to where his mum was waiting for him.

Phil

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognise your beauty’s not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Phil bolted upright at the sound of Undisclosed Desires by Muse blasting from his phone speakers. That was his Dan alarm, which meant that today was the day they were meeting. The song choice did nothing to settle the nerves in his stomach, nor the pressure in his pyjama pants from the dream he had awoken from.

He couldn’t help but wonder if meeting Dan in person would help to rid him of these dreams or if it would amplify them, but that was a risk he was willing to take. A tiny, secret part of Phil hoped that Dan felt the same way, that he was having the same dreams and thoughts, but his common sense told him otherwise.

Phil checked his phone and saw the new messages from Dan. Unsure if he would have service or not, Phil declined to respond.

I’ll just message him when I’m about to leave, he thought.

Realising the time, Phil put his phone on charge and shuffled into the shower, determined to cleanse himself of all the Dan thoughts from the night before.

—

By the time he got out, he was almost running late. Barely thinking, he pulled on his black skinny jeans and blue-and-white checkered button up. Phil checked his hair in the mirror, perhaps using a bit too much hairspray to make sure his fringe sat perfectly in place. Adjusting a couple of flyaways, he couldn’t help but think of Dan’s fringe, Dan’s hair, running his fingers through Dan’s hair, grabbing Dan’s hair…

Oh boy, Phil exhaled through his nose, flustered. Trying to brush the thoughts away again, he grabbed his bag, made sure he had his wallet, and put on his shoes. Heading downstairs, he quickly shot Dan a message:

@amazingphil (11:32 AM)

Hello!! I’m so excited for today!! Leaving the house now, see you soon >_<

As he shook the last of his dream from his mind and began his journey to Piccadilly Station, one image remained:

Dan, disheveled and beautiful, whispering in his ear, “I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.”

Dan

Patience was not Dan’s strong suit. Especially not now, when his meal deal sandwich had settled like a rock in the pit of his stomach and was actively threatening to resurface - no thanks to his nerves churning his insides and the rhythmic swaying of the train on the tracks. The line to the toilet took up about half the carriage, and Dan was sure they’d either be in Manchester or covered in his regurgitated breakfast before he progressed any further.

As luck would have it, the train started to pull into the station just as he closed the door behind him and ran his hands through his hair. Nerves bubbling up, Dan turned on the tap and splashed his face with cool water. He grabbed a handful of paper towels, dried his hands, and patted the water from his face - Dan could not meet Phil for the first time with a red face. Well, redder than it would inevitably be finally seeing him in person. He felt the train slow down and come to a stop, jolting him and nearly landing him face first into the mirror.

From the speaker in the bathroom, Dan could barely make out a crackly announcement, something about reaching the destination and don’t leave your belongings on the train when you depart. He glanced over at his bag on the countertop, doing a mental checklist of everything he brought with him.

Yep, I think that’s everything, Dan thought, But I should probably check, just to make sure.

He’d never admit it, but he also wanted to make Phil wait. Phil was this talented, funny, confident guy, and Dan was just - well, he was just Dan. He had to do something to appear interesting and cool and mysterious. Otherwise he was probably just another fanboy Phil made friends with, and Dan wanted to be more than that. He needed to be more than that.

After psyching himself up in the bathroom - and readjusting his hair about a hundred times - Dan made his way out and down to his carriage. Once he reached his seat, he checked the overhead storage area, underneath and in between the seats, and rummaged through his bag to make sure nothing was missing.

Dan moved through his carriage to the open train doors and took a deep breath before stepping out. He scanned his surroundings, realised he was in the very end carriage, and began the long walk to the other end of the platform, butterflies going crazy in his stomach with each step he took. As he approached the end of the platform, he turned in a circle, searching and searching but finding no trace of Phil, and promptly started to panic.

Fucking hell, I’m so stupid, he thought, Why would Phil actually want to meet me? I’m no one, I’m nothing, I’m–

“Dan?” A voice interrupted his train of thought. Dan turned around and came face-to-face with the boy he’d been obsessing over since he first discovered Dandelion. Tentative brown eyes met with deep blue-green, and Dan noticed flecks of yellow he hadn’t been able to detect through their shitty webcams.

“Phil?” Dan replied, nerves evident in his shaking voice. Before he could think of anything more intelligent to say, Phil enveloped him in a hug, squeezing tightly.

“You came,” Phil muttered into Dan’s hair. “You actually came.”

“Of course I did,” Dan smiled into Phil’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle and squeezing back even tighter.

After far longer than should have been acceptable, they both pulled away, eyes meeting for a brief moment before awkwardly looking at the ground, the trains, the departure boards - anywhere but each other. Eventually, Dan mustered up the courage to glance at Phil, only to find him staring right back. They laughed softly, nerves somehow amplified and diminished at the same time. Dan’s eyes flicked up to Phil’s hair, almost too perfect for the wet and windy weather.

“Are you wearing a wig?”

“What?”

They burst out laughing, any prior tension dissipating as they walked through the train station together, climbing the steps to the streets above.

Chapter Text

Phil

Dan was even more beautiful in person. Phil couldn’t believe they’d waited so long to meet when it was suddenly so obvious how compatible they were. As awkward as their initial meeting at the train station had been, Dan didn’t seem bothered by Phil’s annoying tendencies to claw and bite him (gently) when he got nervous. Those deep brown eyes saw right through Phil, and he hadn’t yet decided if that was good or bad.

Mostly, though, it felt good.

After an uncomfortably long silence when they’d left the station, trying to decide where to go, Dan reminded Phil that he promised he would shout them both Starbucks.

“You know, I’m ninety-percent sure you made this up,” Phil said when they’d joined the line. “But I want coffee so I won’t object.”

“I did no such thing!” Dan scoffed in mock offense. “By the way, I’ll have a–”

“Caramel macchiato,” he interrupted, “I know.”

Dan looked at him, almost stunned.

“Sorry,” Phil said quickly, “Was that weird that I remembered?”

“No! No, not at all,” Dan rushed, “I just… I wasn't expecting it, I guess.”

“Oh,” he looked down at his feet. “Um, is it okay that I remembered?”

“No, Phil, it’s the worst thing in the whole entire world that you remembered my Starbucks order.”

“Okay, okay - point taken.”

“Shall I find us somewhere to sit while you order?”

“Sure.” Phil smiled and watched Dan as he looked around, eyes landing on a sofa tucked into one corner of the shop, and shuffled his way over. He didn’t realise the barista was waiting for him until she coughed loudly enough to snap him out of his trance.

“Hi! Erm, sorry,” he said apologetically, “Two caramel macchiatos, please.”

Phil paid for their drinks and walked over to where Dan had settled, keeping an ear out for his name. Dan was typing quickly on his phone, but stopped once Phil nudged his foot.

“Oi,” Dan joked, gesturing to his phone, “Very important business going on here!”

“Oh I do apologise,” Phil said sarcastically.

“Kidding, just texting my mum so she knows you didn’t murder me yet.”

Neither boy said anything for a long moment. Dan raised his gaze up to meet Phil’s shocked and confused expression, then they both burst out laughing, earning them a few concerned looks from the people around them. They didn’t care; they were happy.

“Yet?” Phil said after he stopped laughing.

“Well, you never know,” Dan shrugged. “Maybe you’re going to take me back to your place and tie me up in your basement.”

“Dan,” Phil teased. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“I bloody hope not!” Dan replied. “Although…”

“Although?”

“Never mind, it’s too weird.”

“Are you kidding? Have you met me?”

“Yes,” Dan deadpanned.

“Okay, fair, but seriously,” Phil bumped Dan’s knee with his. “You could never be too weird for me.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

They linked pinky fingers and Phil squeezed as best as he could.

“Fine,” Dan paused for a moment before continuing quietly, “I was going to say, if you were going to tie me up somewhere I’d rather it be in the bedroom.”

Before Phil could process Dan’s words and respond, he heard the barista call his name impatiently. He rushed over to grab their drinks and get back to Dan, but by the time he got back the topic was too far away to reach without opening a door Phil wasn’t sure they’d be able to close.

Then again, did he really want to, if it meant being closer to Dan?

—

As the day progressed, Phil couldn’t stop sneaking looks at Dan - no matter what he was doing. He could be waiting to cross the street or watching the pigeons in the park or, when he was lucky, looking at Phil. His soft brown hair, tousled by the wind, and his desperation to fix it before Phil could see. As if it would bother him, anyway. He adored Dan, even more so now that they were right next to each other, close enough to touch and smell and admire - close enough for more, if Phil was daring enough.

But he resisted, too worried it would scare Dan away. Phil couldn’t lose him, not when he’d just really got him. His mind wandered, though, back to their conversation in Starbucks and their flirty texts before today. Did Dan feel the same way? Could he ever feel the same way? Phil hoped so, but was desperately trying - and miserably failing - to keep his expectations minimal.

“So,” Dan’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Where to now?”

“I don’t know,” Phil shrugged. “Where do you want to go?”

“I want to see Manchester!” He exclaimed. “That is why I came all this way, after all.”

“Oh, so not to see me, then?” Phil mocked offense. “You just wanted to use me to see Manchester?”

“Shut up, Lester,” Dan poked him in the side. “You know I’d much rather look at you than a fucking city.”

Phil blushed a little at the nickname and tried to hide his smile.

“Okay, how about the Manchester Eye?” He tried getting the conversation back on track so Dan wouldn’t feel pressured to keep this seeming interest in Phil going. “You’ll get a pretty good view and it goes fairly slowly so plenty of time for me to annoy you!”

Phil tried to ignore the hint of disappointment he glimpsed in Dan’s face before he linked their arms together and grinned.

“Alright then,” Dan said, “Lead the way.”

—

The line to get into the Manchester Eye was surprisingly long, but Phil was determined to make sure Dan saw Manchester like he insisted he wanted to. Dan didn’t seem to mind the wait, poking Phil and making funny sounds to pass the time. Phil reciprocated, of course, with his own nervous energy. When they finally got into a pod, Dan ran straight over to the very edge and pressed his face up against the glass. Having been around the Eye a few times before, Phil sat down on the bench and took a moment to admire Dan in the harsh light of the pod. He’d been watching Dan inspect Manchester as they had walked around, but nothing quite matched up to the sheer wonder and joy that lit up his face right now. Phil couldn’t help but smile, and when Dan turned around to look at him, he got butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t quite explain it, but this moment felt different. The way Dan was looking at him felt different.

“Hi,” Phil said softly, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Hi,” Dan giggled in response, “Come here.”

Phil obliged - as if he could ever object to something Dan asked of him - and moved so he was standing next to Dan, looking out over the bustling landscape. They both stood in comfortable silence for a minute, until Dan turned to him.

“Phil, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

Dan took a slow breath in and exhaled while he spoke.

“Why me?”

Phil was taken aback.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you reposted a bunch of videos from that show,” Dan avoided Phil’s eyes. “Why did you only message me?”

“I mean…” Phil searched for the right words. “You messaged us first, I guess? You apologised for screaming in the video and I replied.”

“Yeah but after that, why did you follow me? Why did you keep talking to me?”

“Oh, well, I guess you just seemed interesting? I don’t know what it was, but I clicked on your profile and thought you looked cute and we seemed to have some mutual interests so–”

“Hang on, rewind,” Dan turned towards him. “Did you say you thought I was cute?”

Shit.

“I… Well, yes, but–”

“No take backs!” Dan laughed mischievously. “You think I’m cute!”

“Daaaan,” Phil whined.

“Phiiiiil,” Dan teased, grinning from ear to ear and not breaking eye contact for a second.

They stayed like that for a moment - just staring at each other, eyes grazing over features previously unseen through their webcams. From this close, Phil could see Dan’s eyes reflecting the lights of Manchester City. As much as he tried to brush the feeling aside, he couldn’t ignore the shine that lingered when the pod had moved and the reflection was long gone.

“Do you really think I’m cute?” Dan asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Heart racing, Phil inhaled deeply and reached his hand out to hold Dan’s.

“I think you’re beautiful, Dan,” he said earnestly. “Is… Is that okay?”

Dan didn’t say anything, but his smile grew impossibly wider. Phil held his breath and waited, blue eyes fixed on brown, for something - anything - that would give him a sign of how the other boy felt. Time seemed to slow as Dan interlocked their fingers and tightened his grip on Phil’s hand. With a trembling exhale, he leaned closer to Phil, not breaking eye contact until their noses were nearly touching. Dan closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips to Phil’s. He could taste the hesitation and the fear, but as Phil let his eyes close and his mouth move against Dan’s, it all melted away.

Phil wrapped his free hand around Dan’s waist, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss. He felt Dan smile against his lips and pulled away, not daring to open his eyes as his anxiety sunk in. Did Dan regret it? Did he just do that because he thought it’s what Phil wanted? What if he kissed Phil just to see what it felt like and now Dan’s realised he hates him? What if–

“Of course it’s okay, you spork,” Dan interrupted his anxious mind rambling. He bit his bottom lip and asked, “Is that okay?”

“Is what okay?” Phil asked, voice breathy in disbelief.

“You know, that I kissed you?”

Coming back down to earth, Phil raised his eyebrows.

“Of course it’s okay, you spork,” he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to Dan’s forehead.

“Yeah but,” he let go of Phil's hand and fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves. “Is it okay that I… That I want to do it again? And again? And lots more after that?”

“Of course it’s okay, you spork,” Phil repeated. “I want that, too. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, you spork,” Dan repeated back, a teasing tone in his voice and smile returning to his face. Phil laughed and pulled Dan into a hug, kissing the top of his head.

“Why are we like this?” he felt the rumble of Dan’s voice against his neck and chuckled.

“I don’t know,” Phil replied, pulling away. “But I have a feeling we’re about to get a lot better.”

Dan wrapped an arm around Phil’s waist, pulling him closer as they stared out at the Manchester City lights. Phil returned the gesture, squeezing gently and looking into Dan’s eyes as he glanced up at him. They smiled at each other, and when Phil leaned in for a kiss and Dan happily obliged, he swore he felt physically lighter.

“I like you, Dan Howell,” Phil admitted. “A lot.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dan joked. “I like you too, Phil Lester.”

“A lot?”

“More than a lot.”

Chapter Text

Dan

It had been a good day. Dan met Phil, they got along well, Dan kissed Phil and admitted his feelings for him, Phil reciprocated those feelings and refused to detach himself from Dan’s side for the rest of their time together. Not that Dan was complaining, of course. He’d do anything to stay this close to Phil for as long as he could.

After their Manchester Eye adventure, Phil had to take a call from his bandmate, Hazel. The brief pang of jealousy Dan felt as Phil answered the phone was quickly remedied when Phil grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers, squeezing tightly and swinging their arms back and forth as they wandered through the streets. As tempting as it was to eavesdrop on a Dandelion band conversation, Dan tried to keep himself distracted by their surroundings; bright electronic screens broadcasting advertisements, people going about their regular days, baristas rolling their eyes at overcomplicated coffee orders, retail workers silently praying for their shift to end. When Phil hung up the phone, he stopped them both and turned to Dan, reaching for his other hand. Dan eagerly obliged, and looked up to meet ocean eyes.

“So,” Phil started, “How would you feel about coming on a roadtrip with me and the band?”

Dan’s eyes widened, surprise evident as he searched Phil’s face for any sign that he was joking.

“Seriously?” Dan asked.

“Yes, is that okay?” Phil asked, for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Hazel’s bringing her girlfriend, Charlotte, because she has a van that we can all fit in with our gear, and that was just her calling to ask if I wanted to bring you along.”

“Yes!” Dan exclaimed. “Oh my God, yes! That sounds so cool!”

He paused, Phil’s words sinking in.

“Hang on,” he started, “How does Hazel know about me?”

A soft pink appeared on Phil’s cheeks, rapidly growing into a deep red.

“I may or may not have told the band that we were talking and I was feeling a little more than platonically towards you.”

“Phil!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry if that’s weird,” he ran a hand through his raven-black hair. “I was just so excited to get to know you, and I guess she remembered today was the day we were actually meeting, so–”

“Wait, you told them we were meeting, too?” Dan interrupted.

“Shit. Was I not meant to? Dan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think I just–”

“Phil, calm down,” Dan reached out to grab the older boy’s hand and give it a squeeze. “It’s okay, I’m just surprised, I guess. Y’know, that you would talk about me that much to your friends.”

Relief washed over Phil’s face as he realised that Dan wasn’t angry with him.

“So, does this mean you’ll come with?”

“Yes!” Dan laughed. “Can’t have all your other fanboys thinking they’ve got a chance with you, now, can I?”

Phil laughed and wrapped Dan in a hug, kissing the top of his head and breathing in the smell of his freshly-shampooed hair. When they both pulled away, Dan could see exhaustion settling into Phil’s features.

“Home time?” Dan asked.

“Home time.” Phil agreed.

—

For the most part of the day, once his initial nerves had settled, Dan was feeling pretty good - especially after their Manchester Eye ride. Of course, upon being confronted with Phil’s family home for the first time, he felt his dinner churn in his stomach. Had he been alone, he likely would have turned around and hopped on the first train back to Reading, but with Phil by his side, gripping his hand like a lifeline, Dan felt like he could take on the world. He couldn’t even really explain why he was so nervous - it’s not like Phil’s parents were home or anything.

Maybe staring up at your idol’s house while said idol fumbles around with their keys trying to unlock the front door to said house - singlehandedly, because their other hand is clutching yours - just does that to a person.

Whatever the reason, Dan couldn’t help the butterflies taking flight in his stomach as Phil gently tugged on his arm, pulling him over the threshold and into the house. He followed the older boy sleepily through the hallway and up the stairs. The combination of exhaustion, nerves, and excitement meant Dan nearly missed it when Phil led him into his bedroom, giving him a sheepish grin.

“Um,” Phil began, “I know we never really talked about sleeping arrangements properly so…” He trailed off.

“Hmm?” Dan hummed absentmindedly, still not entirely aware of his surroundings.

“There’s a spare bedroom, if you wanted to sleep there? Or we could, um…”

He finally realised where Phil had brought him.

“Share your bed?” he suggested.

A deep red blush painted Phil’s cheeks as he mumbled a yeah under his breath.

“Let’s do that then,” Dan said. “Unless you aren’t, um, comfortable with that?”

“No! No, I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay with it, first.”

Dan laughed softly, squeezing Phil’s hand - still firmly grasped in his own.

“And it’s okay if I also, um…” Phil fidgeted with Dan’s fingers.

“Sleep in your own bed?” Dan answered, a teasing tone in his voice. “No, I’m going to sleep in your bed and you have to sleep on the floor.”

He watched the tension seep out of Phil’s shoulders as he spoke.

“Of course that’s okay, Philly,” he swallowed his nerves and added, “But only if we cuddle.”

“Oh, obviously,” Phil shrugged his bag off his shoulders and encouraged Dan to do the same, plopping them lazily on the floor by his desk. “I’m not gonna lay there next to you staring up at the ceiling vampire-style.”

“Aw, you mean to tell me you’re not secretly a sexy vampire?”

“Sorry to disappoint, Danny boy.”

“I guess I can live with it. At least it’s only the vampire bit I’m missing out on.”

Phil looked over at Dan with wide eyes and was met with a similar expression. He had not meant for that last part to come out. They laughed, letting the awkwardness evaporate, and Phil sighed happily.

“So, pizza?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Dan replied. “But only if—“

“We get dips as well?” Phil interrupted. “Don’t you worry, Daniel, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

“Oh, do you now?” Dan smirked. “You might have a way to go to prove that, but I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, maybe I’d like to try.” Phil replied, returning the cheeky grin.

“Phil!”

“I’m only joking!”

“Mmhm,” Dan side-eyed Phil as the latter sat down at his desk, booting up his laptop. “Sure you are.”

Phil’s smile softened as he turned in his chair, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Dan unlocked his phone and scrolled through Instagram, trying to focus on anything other than Phil’s words.

He’d like to try? Try what? What did he mean? Did he mean it like that or am I overthinking this? He said it was a joke anyway, I shouldn’t even be thinking this much about it. But what if—

“Hey Dan?” Phil’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Yeah, Phil?” Dan pocketed his phone.

“What would you say if I told you I meant it?”