phan one shots

cut my lip

Summary: For some reason I like the idea of Dan and Phil just hanging out in one of their rooms, just playing with each other's hair or kissing each other's faces, and singing along under their breath and listening to Twenty One Pilots.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: none

(Unedited)

"I'll keep on trying, might as well,"

Tyler's soothing voice burst from Phil's Alexa speaker, the low beat and resounding rhythm of the familiar song scattering across his flushed, milky white skin as he leaned into the crook of Dan's neck, his slender legs partially tangled in his bright checkered sheets, ocean eyes glowing and shimmering with pronounced hues of yellows and greens as they ran over the alluring masterpiece of his soft features. The tips of his nimble fingers dipped under the waist band of his sweatpants to trace his waist. His seamless skin was warm under his touch, smooth and shivering with slight goosebumps at the contrast of his cold palms exploring him so delicately and carefully, a shudder of delight jumping up his spine. He curled further into his side, pressing the pad of his thumb into Phil's hip gently.

"If you decide, all is well,"

Phil giggled, almost breathlessly, his words slurred with intoxicating tendrils of bursting affection, drawling and slowing like syrup on his tongue. They'd had no alcohol, yet his cheeks were flushed rose pink. Maybe from the close proximity, the way Dan sucked the warmth from each breath that filled the air and painted it across his lips, each inhale and exhale shared, and blowing up his chest until his heart was floating. Maybe it was because the blankets bundled around their waists seemed to be the only material preventing Dan's touch from searing his skin. Maybe it was because of his boyfriend's heavy lidded gaze, dark lashes framing the pools of his darkened eyes, his pupils dilated, and sparks of golden flecks and burgundy fell like shooting stars through the thick richness of melted chocolate brown. He could almost feel it sliding down his throat and coating his stomach, his insides turning to jelly. His skin was an expanse of champagne skies and coffee freckles and sunshine stained clouds. Each crevice and dip of his chest, his stomach, his torso. The slope of his nose, and his plush lips, cherries bleeding through, and slightly bitten from his lust filled kisses. The curve of a smile so soft and intimate, his dimple just barely there, but always found by Phil's eyes. He wanted to memorize his being.

"Dork..." He whispered, an unreasonable statement that was met with brightened features, the sun rising behind his face, his heart a smattering of joyful piano keys. He laughed, and the sound fell warm and soft between them.

Beautiful.

"I'll keep on trying, might as well. If you decide..."

"Nerd." He retorted, his tone so gentle. It was one he seldom used. Not on camera, not with friends. Just with him. These words were meant for him. Only he could understand their meaning. They dripped like honey from his sweet mouth.

"All is well."

"God dammit..." Dan murmured lazily, lifting his long arm. His fingers sprawled across his face, a glint shining around the edges of his eyes.

Phil's smile grew, his tongue peeking out of the side of his teeth slightly. His gaze traced the bouncy curves of Dan's matted, messy curls, and the way his fingers folded over his forehead. "What?" He teased quietly, hands itching to run over his seamless skin.

"Though I am bruised, face of contusions...know I'll keep moving..."

"You're so fucking pretty Phil Lester...you fucking twat..."

Phil giggled, his hands automatically raising to cover the sight. Dan was affronted by the act, and grasped his thin wrists tightly, tugging him close. The mattress shifted, his ebony locks played over the pillows. "I'm a twat?"