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1
Dan woke up disoriented, brain sloppy and clinging to the dream he’d just abandoned.
He blinked, swallowed. His body was stiff, stuck halfway between a contorted position on his back and one on his side. He let himself lean into a full-body stretch, one of the ones that shook the muscles, then rolled into a true side-curl. The pillow underneath him smelled nice and felt cool on his cheek.
He tried to go back to sleep, leaving his eyes closed for one second, two, before realizing it was pointless. He wouldn’t be going back to sleep after a stretch like that.
Sighing, Dan opened his eyes, catching sight of Phil’s sleeping form. Phil always used more of the blankets than Dan did, and even now, he had the duvet curled up in front of his face. All Dan could see was his nose, scrunched and buried in the fabric, and everything above. His forehead was somewhat visible, with Phil’s makeshift fringe pushed around by the forces of the night.
Dan always thought Phil looked adorable like this, though he seldom said it out loud. Instead, he watched for a moment, taking in the sound of Phil’s soft half-snores.
What an old geezer. What a stinky baby.
Dan rolled over and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. It was a little earlier than he normally woke up, but not insanely so. He took care of a few notifications before replacing the phone to let it continue charging.
Sighing, he looked at Phil again. He hated to disturb him, as peaceful as he looked. Dan supposed he could always get a head start on making their coffees, but it was still unlikely that Phil would be awake by the time he was done. He could lay in bed and scroll until Phil woke, maybe get in a cuddle, but a morning doomscroll was something he was trying to banish from his routine, not reinforce. His options without Phil were minimal, and Dan was fairly sure he wasn’t about to return to his sleep.
Well, in the end, he didn’t hate disturbing Phil all that much.
Scooting closer, Dan leaned in to give Phil a chaste forehead kiss, inhaling his scent as he did so. Phil’s hair was freshly shampooed the night before, but it carried that sweet slept-in smell that Dan could swear made flowers bloom in his lungs. He raised a hand to brush at that hair, taming some of the more rogue strands and brushing Phil’s remaining fringe out of his face.
Phil inhaled, one of those shuddering breaths that reinvigorated the body after a full night’s sleep, resettling his body to get cozier. He made a small motion that looked like nuzzling into his pillow.
Like the first gentle tug on a fishing line, Dan had to grab onto this cue of consciousness, or Phil would be asleep again in seconds.
He continued to trail a line of gentle kisses from Phil’s forehead, to his temple, to the upper shell of his ear.
“Hi,” he said, then punctuated the greeting with a dash of his tongue against his ear.
Phil hummed. It was high-pitched and soft, a sound that said I’m still half asleep, but I’m receptive to this attention.
Emboldened, Dan started a soft nibbling at Phil’s earlobe, running his fingers through his hair at the same time. He grasped that hair now and then, and he could feel Phil’s breathing pick up speed. With the force and weight of his own body, he leaned into Phil until they were both parallel with the mattress, Phil on his back.
Phil hummed again. It was shorter, higher-pitched this time.
Enough of that, Dan thought. Retreating, he slipped under the covers, the air much warmer and much darker, and found his way between Phil’s legs. Phil was already fumbling with the waistband of his pants having caught on to Dan’s idea, and Dan helped him take them off. From the small amount of light peeking in through the gaps of the duvet up top, he could tell that Phil was half hard.
Dan was never shy about morning head. If there was anything he didn’t like about it, it was maybe the smell of his own breath as he progressed, but Phil could be such a fiend for any kind of morning sex that any sort of drawback was well worth it. Dan took him into his mouth now with a similar thought. It turned him on to see Phil so turned on. It lit a fire under Dan to not only watch, but be the cause of Phil growing stiffer in his mouth, more frenetic with his movements, more awake. He could trace Phil’s progression into consciousness by the activity of his thighs alone.
At first, that’s exactly what he observed. Phil’s hips twitched, then settled, a result of his attempt to remain still. His hand rested on top of Dan’s head through the duvet, just a weight, not a push. And Dan regained his rhythm, a slow up and down on Phil’s cock, each intake reaching slightly farther and farther down his throat.
Except, usually, this was the part where Phil would start flexing the fingers of his hand on Dan’s head. This is the part where his thighs would twitch, and Dan would feel Phil’s heels digging into the mattress behind him. This is when he would hear breathy sighs turning into moans from the other side of the duvet, above him.
Dan listened intently, but there was nothing. No sound. No movement. Phil’s head was still on his head, but everything else had died away. What?
That’s when he heard a sound. He thought it was a groan of some kind at first, but it happened again, louder.
A snore.
If he didn’t already have a cock in his mouth, Dan’s jaw would’ve dropped. Instead, he pulled off, then whipped the covers back.
“You’re joking.”
Phil startled awake, looking at Dan and around the room for a moment like he wasn’t sure what happened or where he was.
“What? Oh–” he scrambled, “No, no, it’s good!”
“You fell asleep.”
“No– I just–”
“Phil, you were snoring. Last time I checked, that doesn’t secretly mean, ‘Oh, more Dan, thank you Dan, oh Dan I’m gonna come.’”
Even as he spoke, he could see not only Phil’s eyelids getting droopier, but the very clear guilt written all over his face. Phil rubbed at his eyes, sighing.
“Sorry, I guess I’m… not as awake as I thought I was.”
And well, Dan couldn’t be angry with him for very long. It’s not like they had talked about it. Dan had just sort of pounced on him.
He sighed, then reached a hand out and ruffled Phil’s hair.
“Get some sleep, bub. I’ll take a shower and make us some coffees, yeah?”
Phil smiled up at him with some chagrin, then nodded. He laid back down, pulling the blankets back up to his chin, then yawned.
“Wake me up when they’re ready.”
2
Phil heard Dan’s cackle from upstairs, followed by the sound of socked feet thumping down their wooden staircase.
Before he knew it, a colorful package was being shoved in front of his face. There were explosions around big, red, traditionally masculine letters and some elephant or rhino, and in the middle was a big, black pill.
“Look, I forgot about this,” Dan giggled.
Phil squinted, bringing the package closer to his eyes then farther away, trying to figure out what it was. Fuck, he needed his glasses.
“What–”
“It’s that pill I bought from the petrol station in America,” Dan said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. “Like…Viagra.”
Phil could see it now, although the packaging was discreet in that regard. It didn’t directly say anything about sexual stamina, but the language was suggestive enough that any adult – and probably most teenagers – would know what it was for. It was, however, aggressively masculine. Take this pill and you’d be a man’s man.
Thinking quickly, Phil yanked his hand back, holding the item away from Dan.
“What are you about to do?”
Dan smiled prettily, batted his eyelashes at Phil, and held out his hand with waggling fingers.
“Give it here, please.”
“Dan.”
Dan didn’t let up, but leaned over and quickly plucked the pill back from Phil’s grasp.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. He tried to rip it open, but then started tearing into it with his teeth. “They wouldn’t sell it if it wasn’t safe.”
“Dan, it’s America,” Phil said, lowering his voice like someone would overhear him and chastise him for being impolite.
Pill freed, Dan held it in his hand, then scrutinized the back of the label.
“It looks like a bunch of herbs, anyway.” He paused. “Cinnamon bark, seed extract, etc. I doubt there’s any actual dick powder in here.”
Phil watched as Dan stomped to the kitchen for a glass of water. There would be no way to convince him. When Dan got something like this in his head, especially something that would be ‘funny,’ it was hard to talk him out of it. The best he could hope for was that nothing would come of it.
Or, well. Maybe something could come from it. Maybe they could both come from it, if they played their cards right.
“You’re taking yourself to A&E when this goes wrong,” Phil said as Dan walked back into the room.
Dan placed the black pill on his tongue, took a sip of water, then gulped it down. He smiled.
“Relax, it won’t go wrong.”
* * *
Not an hour later, Phil sat curled up on the sofa, Switch in hand, when Dan walked up behind him and pressed a kiss to his exposed neck.
Phil jumped, startled at the sudden touch, then rolled his eyes.
“Oh it’s working, is it?”
Dan hummed, and Phil could feel him smile where his mouth was still pressed against his neck.
“Just started. Want to feel?”
Dan’s attentions weren’t overbearing, but they were certainly sending a clear message. Phil couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. And really, it’s not like he was going to say no.
He saved his game, then tossed the Switch to the side, standing.
“So what, you’ve just been walking around the house since you took it?”
“Pretty much,” Dan said with a laugh. “I dunno. I got eager, and then I got excited, and then…well.”
“Well,” Phil echoed, and gave a pointed look at the tented fabric at Dan’s crotch. He affected an air of exasperation. “Come on, then.”
Stumbling down the hall, Dan continued to touch whatever he could of Phil, and Phil smiled and rolled his eyes. He wanted Dan to feel wanted – because, really, he was – but at the same time, he didn’t want to encourage the behavior of taking sketchy pills for fun. He, himself, didn’t have the fondest experiences with ingesting something he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t be in a relationship where the both of them were in A&E getting their stomach pumped.
But it was hard to maintain that impression when Dan cornered him against the wall of their bedroom, when he kissed him deeply and leaned his body flush against Phil’s.
“Jesus, you’re hard.”
Dan hummed. Phil pushed at him until Dan’s legs hit the edge of the mattress, then climbed over him as Dan walked himself backwards up the bed.
From where he sat on Dan’s lap, he could feel that hard-on pressing into the crease of his ass, despite how clothed they still were. Phil whipped his shirt off, leaning over Dan’s body to return the attention.
Maybe this wasn’t so awful or dangerous, he thought, biting gently into Dan’s shoulder as he ground his hips. After all, Viagra knockoffs weren’t the only drug America found ways to sell over the counter. They had plenty of drugs there that weren’t available to the general public here, or at least not so easy to find, like giant bottles of ibuprofen, or DayQuil, or whatever. And this was silly, this was fun. Dan was hard as a rock underneath him, and it sounded like that might give Phil an afternoon of fun.
But then Dan sat up, quickly, grabbing Phil’s thighs and meeting his lips again, and Phil had a moment to return the kiss before Dan fell back to the mattress, out of his grasp.
Phil very nearly followed him back down, thinking that was Dan’s intention, but the abruptness of it forced his eyes open. He stared down at a Dan that was still breathing, but barely awake.
He didn’t move.
“I– hello?” Phil asked. He extended a hand down and patted Dan’s cheek.
Nothing.
“Dan.”
His mouth was open. Phil could see him breathe. He even checked his pulse, just to assuage his own nerves.
Yeah. He was fine. He had just fainted.
Phil paused, considering. This wasn’t anything new, really, only that it normally happened when Dan stood up too quickly. He had only sat up this time. Could hypotension get that bad?
He climbed off of Dan, and the bed, to run back to the lounge to grab his phone. This would be fine. He wouldn’t panic. He’d wait a few minutes, the time it normally took for Dan to wake up, and then he’d start getting worried.
In the meantime, he googled. He knew about the hypotension – he had researched the fuck out of that over the years – but he realized, with increasing panic, that he didn’t really know how Viagra-adjacent products worked. Sure, they made you hard, but it wasn’t magic. There had to be some kind of reason.
So when, a few minutes later, Dan blinked awake, Phil was standing right next to the bed ready to confront him.
“You’re an absolute twat.”
Dan looked around, disoriented and obviously gathering his wits.
“What–?” he slurred.
Phil held out his phone, which had a webpage for sildenafil – the primary ingredient found in Viagra and all Viagra knockoffs, including the sketchy American pills.
“It lowers your blood pressure – no, don’t sit up again – it lowers your blood pressure to make you hard. Which is hypotension. You just doubled your low blood pressure.”
“Oh…” Dan squinted at the screen, but it was obvious he wasn’t able to really read anything. He held the phone back up for Phil to take, then shot a disappointed glance at the tent in the bedsheets. “Does this mean you won’t fuck me?”
Phil batted at Dan’s erection, making it wobble, and left the room to the sound of Dan yelping behind him.
3
The sheets were plush, the air conditioning was on, and room service had left them their over-extravagant dinners over an hour ago. It was the best part about going on the road.
Phil propped his head against Dan where they lounged side-by-side on the hotel bed. Each of them had grabbed one of the pure white fluffy robes from the bathroom, and they were excellent cushions to guard Phil’s temple against Dan’s bony shoulders. They’d placed their empty plates temporarily on the floor next to the bed, and some reality show was glowing from the TV at a low hum.
Dan muted the TV with the remote, then pressed a kiss to the top of Phil’s head.
“You’re not sleepy, are you?”
“No,” Phil murmured, though it was with half-lidded eyes. He was trying to fool himself into thinking he cared about the show they were watching, but really, he was focused on trying to enjoy the moment without getting dragged into sleep by the carbs resting in his stomach. “‘M wake.”
Dan huffed a laugh. “Yeah? Can I help you be more awake?”
Phil raised an eyebrow, then raised his face to look at Dan. He smirked.
“What did you have in mind?”
Dan returned the smirk, then kissed him, soft enough to feel the give of his lips. Phil inhaled, the scent of Dan’s shaving cream filling his lungs, as well as a bit of the soda he’d had with dinner. This wasn’t exactly waking him up, he thought. If anything, this made him feel more comfortable, more languid in his own body. And now his eyes were closed. He’d doze off if he wasn’t careful.
But then Dan pushed him, and Phil followed the pressure down to the pillows. Their lips remained attached, a sensual touch of its own, while Dan whipped off the robe behind him. Phil followed suit, untying the cinch at his waist and letting each side of the robe fall to his sides, exposing his torso.
Dan pressed open-mouthed kisses to the stubble at his jaw, then just underneath his ear. Phil gasped. He was awake now.
“Fuck,” he breathed. He grabbed Dan by the waist and pulled him closer. They were nearly grinding against each other. “Fuck, yes.”
This was just long enough after eating that he could participate, but not so much that it wouldn’t immediately knock him out as soon as he came. Maybe he was getting old, he thought with some chagrin, but the prospect of such an intense and relaxing sleep after this was almost as arousing at the attention Dan was giving his body now.
Phil laughed at himself, then whimpered. Dan was going to leave a hickey on his neck if he didn’t cut it out.
Phil heard a moan in return, but it sounded muffled, stifled somehow. He was probably so deep in his own head that the room was starting to feel farther and farther away. He mentally waved it off, hiking his hands up Dan’s back.
But Dan had slowed down, and he pulled back from Phil’s neck.
Phil blinked up at him. Dan’s eyebrows were furrowed, fixed on some empty space behind him.
“What—” Phil started.
That’s when he heard it: nearly the same moan he’d just ascribed to Dan, sounding distant.
Sounding like it was just behind him. Behind the bed.
“Oh! Oh! Herbert!”
Phil found Dan’s eyes, wide with shock, at the exact same time Dan found his.
“No…” Phil whispered, equal parts horror and amusement.
The sounds were more prominent now, rhythmic grunts and gasps, even the occasional bump of their headboard against the shared wall. Their neighbors had no inclination to hide their activities, or else had no idea they were being so loud about it.
Phil brought a hand up to his mouth to hide the shock, when Dan burst into giggles.
“Dan! Shut up!” Phil hissed.
Dan continued to giggle, arm around his mid-section and flopping over on the bed. It could be worse, Phil supposed. It could be the volume of an actual Dan laugh.
“It’s not like they’ll hear!” he wheezed. He was laughing so hard he sounded like he was about to start crying. At a particularly loud bang of the headboard, Dan bit his fist.
Phil was having a hard time trying to keep it together, too, though the horror of the present moment was enough to keep him from falling apart like Dan.
“Unnnh. Doreen!”
They found each other’s eyes again, whispering, “Doreen!” in shocked unison.
Phil burst into true laughter then, hiding his face in the blankets and clutching his stomach like Dan. In some small way, sure, he felt bad about making fun of an old couple enjoying a night to themselves. But at the same time, they were loud, and a little ridiculous, and really, it was old people having sex, the lowest hanging fruit in the world.
He wiped his eyes with the corners of the blanket.
“Dan, we can’t be here when they…finish. I’m going to the bathroom.”
The rhythm increased from the other side of the wall. Dan was still laughing.
“Dan!”
Fine. It was dog-eat-dog.
Phil scuttled to the bathroom, then, the muffled groans and giggles behind him, with the unfortunate thought that sleep would likely not come to him so easily after all.
4
Dan was struggling.
He’d been gone for most of the evening. There was an old friend who wanted to catch up, and he couldn’t say no. Really, it was fine. He liked the guy. He genuinely, truly wanted to catch up with him. Plus, he hadn’t really had to travel all that much, only into the city, where they got dinner and drinks.
Spicy dinner. Too many drinks.
He didn’t even have the heart to call Phil from the taxi home. He supposed the driver could tell he was a little fucked up as soon as he got in, and blessedly didn’t try to start any conversations with him. Dan himself was too focused on remaining oriented where he sat, fighting like hell against the nausea, dizziness, and the nascent cramping in his stomach. The way London breezed past him out the window was starting to feel like one’s life flashing before their eyes.
He shot a quick text to Phil. Home in 10.
It was fine, he told himself. He was making a big deal out of nothing. It was only the still-recent trauma of the pontoon fiasco that was informing his panic. This wasn’t that. This was the dumbass decision to get spicy curry, compounded by the dumbass decision to get a drink, and then another, and then another…
When the taxi pulled up to their house, he wasn’t sure he was feeling any better, but at least he wasn’t feeling worse.
He chose not to think about it. He paid the driver, not thinking about it. He walked up their front lawn, not thinking about it. He took out his keys, fumbled with the lock on the door, and told himself, I am not dizzy, I am not about to shit myself, I will walk calmly inside and simply make my way to the bathroom.
When he opened the door, this time, he actually wasn’t thinking about it.
Their spaces were dim on the average day, but Dan could immediately tell something was different about this. The lights were on, but they were dimmed to practically nothing. Candles lined their shelves and countertops, scents clashing in the air, forming a line towards their bedroom.
Dan dropped his things by the door with a feeling of dread in his stomach – among other things.
“Phil?”
He was about halfway to their bedroom when Phil popped out of their doorway. He was only wearing his boxer shorts – the only black pair he owned, which also happened to be the tightest pair he owned. A small smile quirked at his lips as he leaned against the frame.
“Yes?”
There were so many things happening inside Dan’s body. He was beginning to think they would all go off at one time and take him out for good.
“Shit,” he muttered, and it was half arousal, half despair.
He took two steps towards Phil, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to find something to say. Before he could speak, Phil met him where he was, pulling him into a kiss.
He felt like a kid experiencing their first kiss again. He didn’t know where to put his hands. He didn’t know if he should encourage this, though he found himself kissing back on the simple matter that this was Phil. On the one hand, his body was desperate for it, the way he was nearly always receptive to Phil’s touch. On the other hand, his body was also about to combust.
Dan pulled back, just enough to speak.
“Phil…”
Phil retreated entirely, looking at Dan with discerning eyes and a small trace of amusement.
“Are you drunk?”
Dan was about to say yes, sorry, it just turned into such a good time, and the restaurant had so many interesting cocktails. He was about to apologize, and offer to brush his teeth, and in the meantime, take care of whatever war was happening in his gastrointestinal system. He was about to play this off perfectly, and get exactly what he wanted, what he needed.
Instead, he looked at Phil with unfocused eyes, and right at that moment, a stomach cramp twisted his insides.
So instead, he looked at Phil with the greatest despair he could summon, and said:
“I have to shit.”
Phil looked aghast. “What?”
“I have to– I’m so sorry–” Dan was saying, backing away from Phil and down the hallway to the bathroom. “Just, just a second!”
“Dan–” Phil called after him, and then followed him. Dan stopped at the bathroom door in horror, holding up both his hands to keep Phil back.
“No seriously, actually, don’t look. In fact,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head, “Why don’t you, I don’t know, hang out upstairs for a few minutes.” Dan was sure he was beginning to sound desperate and frantic. “Please?”
Phil whined, but reluctantly turned his back and started walking away.
"Fine, but take a shower before you come and kiss me again.”
Dan closed and locked the bathroom door behind him, shucking the remainder of his clothes. He would be more than happy to oblige.
5
Phil knocked on the door to the game room, folder tucked into the crook of his arm. His heart hammered in his chest. A smile threatened to escape, but he composed himself. He could do this.
A voice came from the other side.
“Come in.”
Phil nudged the door open, peeking around the corner and waiting for permission to enter. Dan sat at their desk. The white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and he was even wearing a watch on his right wrist. In his left hand, he held one of their fancier pens, a gift from god-knows-where, and scribbled notes in a yellow legal pad. God, he was even wearing black dress shoes to match the trousers.
He looked really fucking good, and it almost knocked Phil out of it.
“I have, um, the papers you asked for.”
Dan raised a hand without breaking his attention from the paper. “Bring it here.”
Phil opened the door farther, squeezing himself through as tight a space as he could. He was trying to make himself as small as possible.
When he got closer to the desk, he realized that Dan had also pulled up Microsoft Excel on the desktop. Which, it would have been a fine touch, only that the document was completely blank, and Phil had to snap his gaze away from the screen and bite the corners of his mouth to keep from laughing.
Phil placed the folder in Dan’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” Dan said, finally looking up at him. He wasn’t smiling. “How close are you to getting that report done?”
“Oh! Um…” Phil floundered, not as good at improv as Dan was, but then again, it was part of his character to stumble around their words. “Well, I only just got the data from marketing yesterday, but I stayed a few hours extra last night to work on it. It should be done by tomorrow morning.”
Dan grimaced at him in annoyance.
“Let’s get that done by tonight,” he said, looking back to his work. “I was hoping you’d already have it ready. And I hope you didn’t forget to clock out before you worked overtime.”
Unexpectedly, Phil felt a hot ball of anger flare in his chest. What the fuck? How dare he?
“Well if you had told me you wanted it done by now, I would’ve had it done by now. You have to communicate. Like an adult. Or you could’ve sent me the request earlier, so I’d have more time to do it on the clock.”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized how ridiculous he was being, and for a moment, Dan’s own surprise showed in his expression.
“Sorry,” Phil muttered.
The change in Dan was almost imperceptible, but Phil caught it. It was a subtle shake of his head, a rolling back of the shoulders. Phil had jostled him by going a little off script, and this was Dan stepping back into character.
“You don’t have to work here, you know,” Dan threw at him. “This position is pretty damn competitive. There are people who would kill to be where you are right now.”
“I know, I know.”
Dan stood, staring down at Phil from their one-inch height difference. “We’re one of the most competitive organizations in the country. If you can’t do your job, I’ll find someone else to do it for you.”
Phil clenched his fist at his side. He had bounced back to the hilarity of it all, now that he couldn’t hide behind his silly indignation. Did people really have jobs that sounded like this all the time? What a farce.
“Or,” Dan lowered his voice an octave, leaning closer, “I could teach you a lesson myself.”
Phil couldn’t handle that. His face crumbled first, and he just managed to cover his mouth with his hand before he laughed in Dan’s face.
“I can’t, I can’t,” he said through his laughter, shaking his head. “Sorry, I–”
Dan rested his forehead against Phil’s shoulder, then sighed dramatically.
“Phil, you just have to get in the right mindset, okay? Forget it’s me, just focus on the scene. Try to remember who you’re supposed to be, not how much of an asshole I’m being. Yeah?”
Phil took deep breaths, trying to recompose himself. He was not meant for this. He was not cut out for theater. His greatest role was as an envelope in the school play when he was little, and he wasn’t ever going to relive that former glory. The concept of being able to keep it together and act well enough to seduce someone, or to be seduced, was a bit laughable. But Dan wanted to try it, so Phil had promised to try his best.
“I’m sorry,” he exhaled, though he was still smiling. He visually composed himself, nodding. “I’m shy, I’m simpering, I’m a beta male who wants his boss to fuck him.”
Dan straightened, standing tall again, and placed his hands on Phil’s shoulders to center them both.
“Be the character. Focus on what he wants — what he thinks he wants, and what he actually wants, and how those two exist in conversation with each other. And then, roll with it. Internalize it. Respond with it.” Dan patted his arm. “Okay? Try again?”
Phil nodded. “Try again.”
Dan handed him his only prop — a folder with some blank paper in it — and sent him back to the hallway with a wave. Phil closed the door behind him.
Okay, he thought. Be the beta. Eyes on the prize. The prize was…fucking? But his character was dynamic, or at least, Dan seemed to think so.
Phil could tell he was fucking this up again, already. The sounds of a computer keyboard floated from behind the door, and Phil closed his eyes to try to get it to immerse him a little deeper into the fantasy. He could do this. He wiped the smile from his face. His boss was scary, and a dick, and Phil want to fuck him so bad.
He knocked.
“Come in.”
Phil played it the same as before, making himself as small as possible inside the doorframe before getting further permission to enter the space.
“I have those files—”
“Yes, thank you.” Dan held out his hand to receive the folder once again. “How close are you to getting that report done?”
“Oh, um—”
And rather unfortunately, right at that moment, Phil’s gaze travelled where it had gone before, to the Excel spreadsheet on the computer. Only this time, there was a single line of text:
y = mx + b maths maths maths
Phil’s laughter burst out of him so abruptly that it even startled him a little bit. It was a full-chested laugh, one that had him clutching his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Oh my god,” Dan said through his own small laughter.
“You sabotaged me! I was in the zone!”
“You were not in the zone.” Dan put his head in his hands, arms balanced on his knees. “You have to be ready for whatever distractions theatre throws your way. That’s the true form of focus.” He looked up. “Plus, I was also getting into character.”
“By writing ‘maths maths maths’ on a spreadsheet?” Phil asked, incredulous. “Dan, the only thing we’re roleplaying here is a theatre director and a talentless hack. We can just do regular fucking, you know.”
“You’re not talentless,” Dan said, sounding a bit put out.
“That’s not– right.” Phil adjusted the folder in his hand, then pointed it at Dan. “One more try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll call it a day and try again tomorrow or something. Deal?”
Dan deflated a little, but must’ve realized the effort Phil was already putting into this.
“Okay. Deal.”
+1
Phil had done nothing all day. All day.
Thunderstorms woke him in the morning, and then followed him to breakfast, and then through attempts at reading, at playing video games, at staring at the dishes and trying to convince himself to clean them, but ultimately failing. How easy it was to focus with white noise you chose for yourself, he thought, and how distracting it was when it came unbidden.
An overcast sky was commonplace enough for London, and even light rain, but thunderstorms – particularly the summer thunderstorms that shook branches from trees and left them scattered in their backyard – weren't an everyday occurrence. And when they did appear, it was never for this long. Phil was going on hour five of uselessly traipsing around the house, trying to find something to do.
There was nothing for it. It was time to bother Dan.
With a purpose now, Phil bounced a little more lightly down the hall, around corners, and peeking into doorways to try to find him. It was a particular talent of a younger sibling to be able to seek and find someone minding their business solely for the intention of annoying them for no reason. Phil had honed this talent as a child, and had barely been on his own long enough before he was able to practice again with Dan.
Phil found him on the sofa in the living room. Dan had his computer open on his lap, one arm propped on the top of the sofa back to support his head with his hand. If Phil was right about the look in his eyes, Dan was hardly retaining the information on the screen in front of him.
Dan didn’t acknowledge him when he came in, so he went right up behind the sofa and propped his head on Dan’s open shoulder.
“Hello.”
Dan grunted.
Phil glanced at the screen, open on some kind of Google Doc on one side, Youtube comments open on another.
“Does that save automatically?”
Dan paused. “Yeah? I guess.”
Without preamble, Phil reached over them both and shut the laptop. Dan barely managed to get his hand out of the way before it was caught in the fold.
“What– hello?”
“I want attention,” Phil said, walking around the sofa. Taking the computer, he tossed it to the other side of the sofa, clearing Dan’s lap, and settled himself in that space, instead. He replaced his head on Dan’s open shoulder, this time getting comfortable. “I’m bored.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dan sighed, but Phil could hear the trace of amusement he didn’t manage to keep from his voice. “At least you’re honest, I guess.”
“And put your arms around me, you stupid bitch. I’m your partner.”
Phil could practically hear Dan rolling his eyes, but a moment later, he felt Dan’s arms settle around him. He’d picked the perfect position, straddling Dan’s lap in a way that the hold landed with Dan’s hands crossed at his lower back. It was a position that always made him feel like an oversized cat about to be carried through the house. Phil let himself relax, nuzzling in a little closer.
“Anything else you need, princess?” Dan asked. The proximity of his voice made it rumble through Phil’s own body.
“Hmmm, no thank you. This is fine.”
“Can I at least grab my phone?”
“No.”
Dan huffed in frustration, provoking a smile out of Phil from where his face was buried against his shoulder.
“What?” Phil teased. “This isn’t enough for you?” He wiggled his hips, the movement creating a grinding effect against Dan’s own crotch. “I’m sexy, and warm, and I can wiggle.”
“You sure can, buddy,” Dan deadpanned.
Outside, the rain continued to pelt the roof and the sides of their house. Now and then, thunder would rumble in the distance, but never enough to rattle the dishes, never enough to show them lightning from the windows. Instead, the steady noise of it all became like a blanket. It was comforting to know they weren’t outside, nor would they have to be outside for the rest of the day. As far as Phil was concerned, they could just sit here like this until the sun went down, or until one of them had their legs fall asleep.
Phil himself was starting to feel a doze creep into his brain and around the edges of his vision. Enveloped like this, leeching Dan’s warmth, he was almost content to fall back to sleep. He burrowed his head against Dan’s shoulder again, and adjusted his hips to a more comfortable position just in case.
Then he froze, jolting awake, and huffing a small laugh against Dan’s shirt.
“Fuck’s sake,” Dan muttered. “Well what did you expect?”
Phil’s laughter grew, and he rolled his hips against the growing hard-on he was now sitting on. Dan let out a ragged exhale. His hold around Phil’s hips tightened, and his legs drew up instinctively to pull Phil closer.
Dan sighed. “Oh, shut up.”
Seeing that Phil already had his head by Dan’s shoulder, he began his attention there, pressing small kisses through his shirt. It was mild enough that Dan could still tell him to fuck off, but Phil felt like pushing his luck while he still had it. The laundry smell of him, combined with the faint scent of his deodorant, swirled through his head and made his mouth water.
The only sounds coming from Dan were labored breaths near Phil’s ear. Phil took that as encouragement enough.
Running a hand through Dan’s hair, Phil grabbed a handful and used the leverage to tilt his head to the side. Neck bared, Phil trailed his mouth over taunt skin and solid muscle. He took care to avoid the areas that put Dan in ‘fight’ mode, focusing instead on the crook of the neck and the trail of tendons closer towards the back, near the spine and the base of the skull.
All the while, Phil let his hips find whatever stimulation they wanted. They were slow at first, finding a jagged, barely-noticeable rhythm against the bulge in Dan’s pants.
When Phil took Dan’s earlobe between his teeth, Dan moaned against an exhale.
“Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth. His hands had found Phil’s hips, and his grip on them tightened. “Fuck.”
Phil pulled on his hair just enough to bring Dan’s attention back there, and right at the moment he was sure Dan was comfortable again, rolled his hips thoroughly and directly against his cock.
Dan’s breathing grew faster, more desperate, and a small whine escaped under the onslaught of Phil’s attention.
Phil drew back, breathless himself. “Get your cock out.”
Dan blinked rapidly. He looked disoriented and surprised by the command before he reached for his fly.
“So romantic. Jesus.”
“C’mon. Faster,” Phil said, unbuttoning his own trousers.
In what felt like no time at all, their pace had reached something hurried and frenzied. Hardly had Dan freed himself when Phil caught his lips in a deep kiss. Dan’s tongue traced his bottom lip, then dipped inside his mouth.
When Dan pulled back, it was to spit in his palm.
“Ugh, gross,” Phil muttered.
“Shut up.”
Dan found Phil’s mouth again at the same moment he took them both in hand. Phil moaned, rocking his hips forward into the pressure. Both his hands found Dan’s hair again, and he gripped, unintentionally trapping Dan’s head between his arms.
When Dan began to stroke them both into a steady rhythm, Phil broke away, raising his head to pant into the air, rather than directly into Dan’s mouth. The angle gave Dan the perfect chance to latch onto his throat, much in the same way Phil had just done. He kissed the hollow, then his Adam’s apple, then just under his chin.
Phil could hardly speak, not even to demand a faster pace. He clenched his teeth and concentrated on feeling so desperate and so weightless.
Dan wasn’t making it easier, either. He was obviously trying to make it last, despite the pace they’d tripped into just moments ago. Each stroke had lingering attention to their tips, and the strokes themselves were long and unhurried. Phil had resorted to thrusting up into Dan’s fist himself, and hoped that the drag against Dan’s cock would prompt him into a faster speed.
Phil tightened the grip on Dan’s hair.
“Come on, come on,” he panted into the air. “Faster.”
Just at the moment Phil thought Dan was going to make this last forever, he obliged, stroking them at a breathtaking pace. The air in Phil’s lungs caught, and with his eyes screwed shut, he buried his face in Dan’s curls.
When Phil came, he moaned into those curls, hips shaking and undoubtedly making a mess between them. He could feel the new wetness forming in Dan’s grip. His hands in Dan’s hair turned from a grip into a tight hold, refusing to let him go until he couldn’t stand it any longer.
It was only seconds later that Dan came himself, moaning into the side of Phil’s neck. Phil recovered faster, and he used that extra moment to pat Dan’s hair as he came down from his own high.
For a moment, the only sounds in the room were their heavy breaths and the drum of the rain outside.
“Phil,” Dan said. “I need a shower.”
Phil groaned. “Are you gonna make me get off you?”
“Yeah, especially when I got you off.” Dan rocked his body, and Phil yelped at the sudden change in gravity. “You can come with me, I’m just getting sticky.”
Phil pulled away, sitting up straight for the first time. Both of them had stains on their shirts.
Phil grimaced. “Eugh.”
“Exactly. So get moving.”
Dan nudged him again, and this time, Phil stood on somewhat shaky legs next to the couch. He hadn’t realized how much his legs had fallen asleep since kneeling on the couch, and now he was paying the price with pins and needles.
“Well,” Dan said, looking down at the mess on his front. “Satisfied?”
Phil smiled. “Very,” he said matter-of-fact, and led the way to their nearest bathroom.