phan one shots

stained glass pt. 2

Summary: Part 2 to my one shot Stained Glass. Dan is extremely worried about his new best friend, Phil Lester.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: anxiety

"Your hair is curly!"

Dan instantly scowled, attempting to smooth down his damp, wavy hair, dripping wet, cold raindrops splattering across his cheekbones and catching on his long lashes. It had been raining non stop for the past two weeks, and Dan was just unlucky enough that the day he'd planned to meet Phil again in their favorite secret garden was also the day he forgot an umbrella. And his perfectly straightened hair was bouncy and curved into crescent moons, tousled in a soaking mess around his ears by the time he'd finally made it to the church. He was completely drenched, his jeans heavy and socks uncomfortably squishy inside his shoes, his black shirt sticking and clinging to his shivering skin. His lips were almost blue from the cold temperature, his fingers shaking as they hastily combed his fringe out of his face, and he sighed into the warm air as the church doors closed behind him, forcing himself to turn and meet the stunning ocean eyes of his soft spoken friend.

"Shh, we don't mention that." He murmured, squeezing the water out of the hem of his shirt and walking further into the church, creating puddles as he trudged sullenly down the aisles. Phil, with his timid, clumsy footsteps, rushed after him, his own purple umbrella wrapped and tucked inside his backpack which laid on the floor in front of the stained glass windows. His pins and badges that he'd stuck on the starry fabric were wet and had been attacked by a barrage of pouring rain, but were otherwise unharmed, grinning happily up at him, the color bursting as though taunting him. His grumpy lips twisted in a frown.

Phil tapped him on the shoulder, a bit anxiously, his brows pinched in a mix of confusion and pleasant surprise. "Why didn't you tell me your hair was curly?" He asked, and Dan's chest heaved in a silent exhale.

"Cause I don't like it." He replied shortly. Phil huffed, his candy stained mouth forming an adorable pout.

"Why?"

Dan glanced towards the ceiling, and slowly lowered himself to the floor beside Phil's bag, shaking violently as he curled into a fetal position. Phil sunk down next to him, and his scent was just a strong and intoxicating as ever, the rain seeming to have failed in washing it away. "I don't know, cause it's ugly as hell."

"Is not," Phil argued immediately. "How long have you been straightening it for?"

"Since I was fourteen." He said nonchalantly, but Phil's face startled with shock, disbelief sparkling around the edges of his deep blue pools.

"Every day?" He questioned, and Dan nodded slowly, running a hand through the curls tiredly. They dripped down his neck, sticking to his skin.

"Every day." He confirmed.

"For four years?"

"Mmhm." He mumbled, and Phil gasped, grasping his heart as though it were a sob story that caused him much pain.

"But it's so cute and fluffy..." He said softly, reaching up the trace the gentle wave, and Dan blushed slightly, a light rose pink tinging his cheeks. "Like a little pig tail...in your hair."

Dan closed his eyes, feigning exasperation.

"Stop."

Phil giggled, a gorgeous sound laced through with golden tulips, his tongue peeking out of his teeth, though he attempted to hide his smile behind his palms. Dan wanted to pull his hands away.

"Sorry." He apologized mindlessly. He hummed under his breath, a quiet thrum in his delicate throat, and then lifted his nimble fingers, combing through the tangles.