The Oil Fic (Phan)

The Oil Fic

Phil very much regretted not oiling his hand. It became apparent to him when he took his time washing off bits of melted marshmallow after his favorite "baking" video yet.

He took his naked chest into the kitchen, glancing briefly at the conjoined orange jumper that he'd just shared with Dan. What a relief for both of them it was to get out of that thing.

He found Dan next to the kitchen door, still cleaning the mess of cereal crumbs that Phil had scattered earlier on. Dan sighed again as he straightened up to crack his back and stretch himself relaxed.

"Phil!" He called out, and to his pleasant surprise, Phil was right behind him. "It's the last time I forget something this bloody important." Dan mumbled to the broom, his hands slowly unsticking from it. "Will you hold it for a second?" He passed the broom onto Phil to finally turn towards the kitchen sink ((lol)) and wash his hands.

"Fucking hell, it's impossible to get it off once it's solid." Frustratedly, Dan scrubbed his hands together, regretting every crispy he held and tried to shove in his mouth.

Phil, on the other hand, felt quite sorry for Dan, watching him as his hands slowly turned red from the friction under the tap. He scanned the kitchen counter until his eyes fell on the unopened liter bottle of cooking oil that they bought for their video (none of that spray-on millennial shit, we're having the real deal up in this kitchen).

He eyed it very intensely and, as if on instinct, he gripped it in his hand and rested the other on Dan's shoulder. Dan turned around and went absolutely quiet- he couldn't whine nor complain, not when Phil was giving him that..stare.

"I know what'll help you get it off.." he whispered "It's instant, I promise." His voice deepened and the look on his face became more ominous and suggestive within a frame. He demanded Dan's hand and cracked the cap open.

When Dan hesitated in putting his hands out, Phil, in the lowest tenor voice he could muster, ordered for him to cup them. The bottle was then opened and warm, thick oil was running through Dan's fingers and onto the recently cleaned tile floor.

"Phil, what-" Dan's high-pitched demand was rudely interrupted by the only other present pair of lips. Half of the bottle had already emptied onto the floor when Phil finally let it slip out of his fingers and thud on the floor with a subtle splash. His tongue swirled around Dan's lips and into his mouth while his oily hands found Phil's neck.

Their feet were soaking and their fear had come true when oil caused the both of them to slip and fall on the warm puddle beneath them, resulting in a rough growl and a scream from Phil and Dan respectively. Phil trapped Dan in between his limbs and began to attack him openly, sucking on the oil around his mouth and licking his neck for excess.

He grabbed a fistful of his hair and tilted his head back, biting Dan's jaw hungrily and eyeing his exposed chest. He smiled in satisfaction as Dan poured the rest of the bottle on Phil's back, letting it drip on his own body as well. They were lathered in oil, bringing Phil down to his elbows and leaving them to work their way around each other's faces. With one arm supporting his body, Phil's other arm shimmied down Dan's naked chest and into his pants, grabbing at him painfully pleasantly. Dan let out an airy "fuck" and bent his knees, Phil going in between them.

He breathed very intensely, concerned by the hand teasing his erection. He rubbed against Phil, pushing him back until he was sitting on his lap, still going at his face and moaning louder and louder by the second. Slowly he loosened his belt so that his pants would comfortably slip a tiny bit to expose his cheeks.

Phil pushed Dan further into him, grabbing his butt firmly and cupping his frontier with the other hand. Suddenly, the hand on his behind was on his face, tilting it sharply to the right and making his whole body slip sideways and then a full 180 degrees. His back was to Phil, who was on his knees grabbing onto Dan's torso and planting worryingly purple hickeys on his neck.

The grip that held onto Dan's chin directed his face towards the ground into the shameful submissive position that gave Phil all the power- and take it he did.

It was hard to hear Phil's zipper undo due to how wet it was with oil, but it was not that hard to hear the dirty, dirty pounding, the collision of skin on skin and the very heavy grunts upon moans upon screams.

Their hair was all over their panting faces, stuck to their foreheads and necks, dripping with excess. Their pants were long cast aside and their skin was red all over. Their hips were sore, their elbows and knees bruised and their necks and nipples heavily hickey-ed.

Their thighs were absolutely pulsating, though thankfully not at all chafing or dry- thank God for all that fucking oil.