Dan woke up, raising his head groggily to look around for Phil. The scary, 'punk boy' was no where to be found. That snapped him from his tired state, and he stood up, looking around. "Phil?" He shouted.
He heard humming as his reply, and peered into the kitchen. Phil stood, hovering over a frying pan, cooking eggs. "Hey Dan." Phil managed out in an almost pained tone, but looked up and flashed him a small smile. All the lights were out in the kitchen, and somehow, Phil could still see through the darkness. "I wanted to be nice?" He muttered, and handed Dan a plate. "Morning." He added, and ruffled Dan's hair as he walked past.
"Phil, shouldn't you have gone home by now?" Dan interrupted. "I wanted to apologize. Also, there's something on my back that hurts, I wanted to ask you what it was." Phil rolled a shoulder, and Dan made an uneasy noise, before asking Phil to lift his shirt.
His back was covered in ink, and colours that made his eyes almost bulge out. It was beautiful, and Dan couldn't help but admire every single one. He put a finger on Phil's back, tracing his hand to where Phil had said the pain was. He inhaled sharply, hearing a hiss from Phil. The new word permanently on Phil's back was short, and made him almost regret his decision of walking home that night he met Phil.
Dan stumbled back into the wall behind him, head in his hands, "Phil," He stressed, "You drunkenly got a tattoo."
Phil froze, and the minute his shirt was back on properly, he looked to Dan. "Of what?"
Dan rubbed the back of his neck. "Me." He answered bluntly. "Let's go to our therapist, the wonderful coffee shop worker."
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(What if i ended the chapter right here? nOPE)
Dan shouted for Hailey, who appeared in a second. "Hmm? What's up bitches-" She paused when she saw the expressions of the two, "What happened?"
"He drunkenly got a tattoo of my name!" Dan shouted, and pointed at Phil accusingly. Phil threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "I don't even remember!" He fought back, pulling at the strands of his black and blue hair. "Why are you blaming me?!" He added, narrowing his eyes.
"Woah, woah..." Hailey looked at them, "Back up the argue train, he what?" She shot a disapproving look at Phil. "Tattoo's-" "Are forever. I know, I have a lot." Phil fought back, and turned away from them. "Can I just get a coffee?" He muttered, sitting down. The other boy huffed, and looked at Hailey with a look that made her want to crumble. "Sit down, bitch. We're talking this out. Hey Pouty-face-wanna-be! Get the fuck over here or I'll rip out your pearly whites!" As if scared by her words, Phil hesitantly made his way over to sit next to Dan. Hailey passed them both coffees, glaring at Dan. "Don't let this one get cold, you little shit." She crossed her arms.
"Phil, do you have any memory of getting that tattoo?" Hailey stated flatly. "Nope." The punk boy shook his head. Dan, stretching out his legs, waited. "So, why, Dan, are you getting mad?" Hailey turned to her friend, and to be honest, she felt like some sort of therapist.
"He-" "Doesn't remember." Hailey finished, "You two need to work out your shit and get married. You can adopt a Spanish baby named Antonio."
"Wait, what?"
"For once, I'm with Dan." Phil stated with a raise of his eyebrows. "What."
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dont be pouty atleast it exists yknow
YOU ARE READING
city lights ; phan
Fanfiction[pastel dan + punk phil] [warning that this is probably the most terrible written piece you've ever read.] dan howell, a man who wore lilac sweaters and liked coffee as much as he needed to breathe. phil lester, a man with too many tattoos and blue...
