Phan Oneshot collection

I Drabble In The Arts

Summary: Um this story has no plot??? Dan telling Pheelop that he's aromantic.

Genre: Some fluff and some angst. Platonic!Phan and Aromantic!Dan

Warnings: Cryingish I suppose.

It was a rainy night in when Dan first mentioned it. There was a film on that Dan couldn't have told you the name of that Phil could have spouted in half a second, and Dan's eyes were flicking their attention between the droplets distorting the view from the window, and the finger tip that was trailing its way lazily across the palm of Phil's half curled hand. The blue of the screen had gone stagnant, and Dan looked up from his spiraling pointer to see the two main characters staring lovingly into each other's eyes. Bored, he looked back out the window.

"Have you been watching this movie at all?" Phil whispered from beside him, and Dan's gaze was torn from the window and fixed instead on Phil's face, and then back down again.

"What? Yeah, sure," Dan mumbled.

"Alright, pop quiz, what's the main character's name?"

"Carol...?" tried Dan, still not looking up.

"I mean you were almost close. It's Erica. I lied, actually, you weren't close at all." Dan let out a snort. "If you don't like the movie, Dan, we can turn it off."

Dan nodded slowly, and Phil hit pause.

"I know, don't thank me," said Phil with mock arrogance, "well, I did just turn off a good movie for your personal benefit, so maybe thank me a little. I think calling me your best friend a couple of times should do the trick." Phil looked down at dan in amusement, but Dan gave little response.

"Alright, Dan, what's up, talk to me," he said, shifting a little so as to get Dan's face more fully into view.

"I don't want to bother you."

"The only way you're going to bother me is if you keep sulking, now fess up."

Dan let out a sigh, and opened his mouth a couple of times only to close it again. "Okay, um, do you know that time when you, um, you tried to hold my hand on the Big Wheel and I pretended to fix my jacket and-"

"You're not going to tell me that you still feel guilty about that? We've talked about it Dan, it was weird and I'd just met you, like, the day before."

Dan bit his lip. "No, it's not that, it's... okay, remember that time when I started dating that guy and I came home and told you that I needed you to help me tell him that I felt no spark there whatsoever? It, um, it wasn't the first time that something like that happened." Phil was looking as if Dan was speaking in Goblin, so he plowed on before he made it worse, "I mean, like, I don't think I've felt that connection with anyone, not, at least, one where I felt like I wanted to hold their hand and tell them I loved them as more than a friend and this is the most awkward and embarrassing thing I think I've done in my life, and I know that searching for the right label is kind of a teenage thing like 'I'm Dan, I'm aromantic, I like MCR, I'm this and that and the other; follow me on myspace,' but, um."

Phil's mind was spinning and he was pretty sure he was shaking which was weird, seeing as it was Dan, not him, who'd just shared really personal information with his best friend, and he was kind of at a loss for words. "So you're.. aromantic then?" Dan gave a terrified sort of half nod. "I'm sorry, I don't really know what that means."

Dan took a couple of deep, shaking breaths, and crossed the arm that had previously been tracing circles onto Phil's palm tightly under his left. "It's, um, kind of like, for me at least, where you can be like 'oh, they're cute,' but then the second that you actually get together or whatever, you just feel really suffocated and uncomfortable, and you don't really like physical contact, and you can like sweet messages as much as the next guy, but the prospect of sending any back kind of makes you want to vault yourself off of a cliff because you like them and you want them to be happy, but you just don't romantically want to be involved with them. For me especially, I'm terrified of physical contact because I feel like someone is going to hold my hand and they're not gonna let go, but I'm going to hate it and it all just makes me feel so guilty but I can't help it. I also feel guilty for making you listen to my rant; I'm sorry I have no clue why I'm telling you all this."

Phil looked like he was going to cry. "Hey, hey, look, you don't have to feel bad for telling me this. You needed to get it off your chest, and I understand that. Now can I hug you or would that be weird...?" Dan laughed, short and breathy, and scooted closer to Phil, hooking his arms underneath Phil's, so that his hands rested on the backs of Phil's shoulders.

"You're not a bad person for not loving someone, Dan, and if anyone makes you feel like you do then they suck." Dan's response was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"I love you, Phil."

"I love you too, Dan," he whispered, grabbing tighter to the back of Dan's neck. "No romo."

Dan didn't know whether to cry, laugh, or smack Phil in the face.

~

Breakfast the next morning was crunchy cereal and silence, and Phil watched Dan's face as Dan stared down into his plastic bowl.

"Where do you stand on friend stuff?"

Dan looked up. "Huh?"

"Like, I get that you don't like romance touches and stuff," Dan drew his arms closer to his body, and Phil could hear him rubbing his feet together under the table, and he wished he could make himself shut up, but he was too far in, "but like, where do you stand with friendly closeness?"

Dan stared determinedly at his spoon as he swirled it around the milk in his bowl. "I don't know. It depends on the person, I guess, and the situation. It varies with different types of affection, too, like hand holding is generally a no-go, but hugs vary in the moment, and I don't know because I haven't really figured myself out yet."

Phil nodded and shoved another spoonful of shreddies into his mouth to save himself from having to speak.

~

Phil couldn't remember the joke: something about penises probably, knowing Dan. His lips were bared in an overly high-pitched laugh, and he was clutching his stomach like Hannah Montana during a ballad. He doubled over, and thus found himself with his ear pressed flush against Dan's chest as he tried to draw a breath.

Dan shrunk quickly back against the couch cushions and Phil drew back as well, trying his best to master his breathing.

"I'm sorry," he hiccupped.

"I'm sorry, too."

"Don't be"

Dan nodded

~

Another lazy night. Another film. This time, one that Phil had little interest in. The lights were flickering soft blue against his closed eyelids, and the next thing he knew, he could hear soft breathing just above his right ear. He could feel the soft of Dan's woolen hoodie against his cheek.

He looked up. "Alright?"Dan smiled, a flickering glance sent towards Phil's movie-lit features.

"Yeah."

"Okay, Dan Howell" Phil fell asleep again, this time with the grey of Dan's sleeve resting at his waist.

Okay.