Phan One Shots - jilliancares

Scary Storms

Dan gaped, feeling astonished and slightly naked, standing before the Phil Lester, being the only thing occupying his attention.

"Hi," the older boy said, stepping into the alcove, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. Dan wasn't ready to answer, he was trying to rally the different aspects of his mouth, to get his lips to open and his tongue to push the words out, but he was unfortunately silent.

"I'm Phil," he said, quite calmly, as if Dan didn't know exactly who he was. Scariest kid in town. Currently the star of Dan's desires.

"I know that," Dan finally said, almost defiantly. Phil laughed, his eyes shining, which Dan felt special to be able to witness. How had he made Phil make that laugh, look like that?

"And you're Dan?" Phil questioned, making Dan's mouth fall open once more, with undeniable surprise. "Caramel macchiato?"

"Uh, yeah," Dan affirmed. He, of course, observed Phil every single time they managed to be in the coffee shop together. He'd never imagined for even one second that Phil could've been paying any attention to him as well.

"What're you doing in this storm?" Phil questioned, which, arguably, Dan could be asking him right back.

"Going home."

"Need me to walk you?" Phil offered, for no plausible reason, seeing as he was cool and scary and four years older than Dan. Seeing as he was a teenager.

Dan was on the brink of saying no, when the sky boomed threateningly, and the lighting flashed, throwing Dan's frightened face into sharp relief. Phil nodded as if the matter were settled.

He immediately removed his leather jacked, before he was holding it open, facing away from himself. Dan stared at the jacket.

"Well? Put your arms in," Phil said, although his voice sounded light and joking. It hit Dan then, the realization that Phil wanted him to put on his jacket. His leather jacket.

"I- what?" Dan asked. Surely he was mistaken.

Phil just jiggled the jacket though, and Dan tentatively stepped forward, sliding his arms into the warm sleeves. It was big on him, and it hung past his fingertips, but he hugged it around himself just the same, feeling cooler already.

Dan watched as Phil took a step forward, before spinning on the spot, eyeing Dan. "Well? Aren't you coming?" He asked.

"Oh," Dan said, quite stupidly, before he was stumbling after Phil, his mind rushing and whirling, wondering what in the world he must've done to deserve this. Perhaps he'd been a good person in a past life, one who sacrificed himself for others, or took really good care of a dog, or something. Because he couldn't just be getting this, walking side by side with Phil Lester, wearing his leather jacket, for no reason.

There was a deafening crack, and Dan was pressed against the wall of a building in a heartbeat, holding his breath and sucking in his stomach, as if it would get him safely away from the thunder and lightning. Phil took one glance at him, at his pale, wimpy face, and his small, skinny body (Dan had to crane his neck to make eye contact with Phil, who seemed incredibly tall), and grabbed hold of his hand.

Dan felt his fingers slot through with Phil's, and found himself still holding his breath, not believing it was true.

He was holding hands with the coolest kid in town!

Dan was getting real sick of the thunderstorm, as with every crash and boom he was sucking in a breath and squeezing Phil's hand. In response, Phil was walking quicker, pulling Dan closer, holding his hand harder. Dan felt dizzy every time he though of his hand encased in Phil's, and had to push it far out of his mind if he didn't want to trip over his own feet.

When they finally arrived at Dan's house, he pulled his key out of his pocket with a shaking, fumbling hand. He hesitantly pushed it into the lock and twisted, listening to the resounding click.

It was quite surprising when Phil pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly and patting him on the back twice. What was even more surprising, was the fact that he left without his jacket, and without so much as a backward glance. He simply raised his hand, as if he knew Dan was watching him walk away, and disappeared around the corner.

What wasn't so surprising were the feelings of admiration and something his eleven-year-old brain was convinced was love filling up his chest and making his cheeks heat. If Dan Howell didn't have the absolute biggest crush in the world, then he didn't know who did.

—

"Daniel!" Phil called jokingly, stepping into the kitchen and sliding onto the counter. Dan had a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his mouth was stuffed to the brim with his most recent bite, but that didn't stop him from glaring and aiming a half hearted kick at his boyfriend. "Storm tonight," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up," Dan said with a roll of his eyes. They both knew his act of bravado was exactly that, an act. In precisely ten hours from now, Dan would be curled up on their bed, duvet wrapped snuggly around Phil's body, which would be wrapped around Dan's body, which would be holding the ends of the duvet tightly together, keeping them and all their heat locked inside the blanket cave. To keep out the scary storm spirits, obviously.

"I'm excited," Phil informed promptly, his eyes filled with a sparkling mirth, his lips pulled up into a wicked grin. Dan huffed at him.

"You always are."

"I just think you're too cute, you know," Phil smiled, grabbing Dan's hips and pulling him closer, in between Phil's knees. It was lucky Dan had just drained the last of his cereal, and he was quick to place it down on the counter, not wanting a repeat of many accidents happening just along these lines.

Dan trained his eyes on Phil's arm, scanning the familiar web of dark lines over his skin, the undeniably sexy tattoos covering his arms. He'd gotten them six years ago, on his eighteenth birthday. Dan had accompanied him, hiding behind his hands and peeking through his fingers as the needle covered Phil in ink. When he'd made eye contact with his friend he'd found only a grin, not even a tell-tale sign of a grimace, which he should surely be wearing, given the tattoo he was receiving.

Phil had been incredibly tolerant and kind to the eleven year old who'd wanted oh so desperately to befriend him, and as the years went by, Phil had dutifully ignored the soul-devouring crush Dan had harbored for him, completely convinced that it was unnoticeable. Of course, Phil had informed him later, once they'd begun dating when Dan was twenty, that it had been the most obvious thing in the world.

"You made every excuse to hold my hand," Phil had said, a fond smile on his lips. The blush had risen easily to Dan's face, remember all the times he'd done exactly that. He'd grabbed Phil's hand for just about anything, whether it was to lead him down a hall faster, making him latch on and tug, or during a scary movie, convincing himself that friends held their older, braver friend's hands when they were scared.

"You constantly blushed, especially when you were seventeen and I found your dildo by accident and you nearly had a heart attack. And your lies about how it'd been given to you as a prank and was completely unused were so obviously lies, Dan," Phil had laughed, and Dan buried his face into his boyfriend's chest. He'd thought he'd played that off well, and sent Phil home completely convinced that he was in the clear.

"Plus, we can't forget the time I caught you masturbating when you were eighteen. You were most definitely moaning my name, by the way," Phil had said plainly, hugging Dan closer to him and kissing his cheek when he stiffened in embarrassment.

"I thought you didn't realize what I'd been doing," Dan had mumbled, directly into his shirt.

"What? With your red, sweaty face, bare chest, and probably naked body under your covers? Yeah, real smooth."

Now, Dan laughed looking back on all the years he'd pined desperately after the cooler, older, bad boy. It really had been horribly obvious, and he would cringe if he hadn't ended up with Phil in the end.

Still, he could remember how terrified he used to be of storms as well, and he wasn't nearly as scared anymore. Not when he had Phil to protect him, holding him in his arms and pressing kisses to the back of his neck. How could anything be scary when Phil was there? Phil was most assuredly the scariest thing in any room, if not the cutest.