The moment he feels it, he pulls back just a bit, holds his breath as Phil stirs behind him and exhales low and slow. For a moment, Dan's sure he's woken him, but Phil doesn't move, doesn't speak, and silence fills the space around them.
Dan's muscles slowly unclench, relax, and he lets his own breathing even out to match the pace of Phil's, and then sleep comes more easily than he expected.
--------------------
There is something touching his wing.
It's moving in broad, slow strokes, and Dan's barely-awake brain can't comprehend what might be doing that, or how, given he's home alone in his bed and-
Except that's wrong, he's not home, and he's not alone, and nerves spark inside his chest in a completely different way now; sure, he's not being potentially attacked or whatever his sleep-addled brain had been imagining was going on when he'd been awoken by a touch on his wings, but he's still here, with Phil, and that brings a wave of anxiety he'd not been expecting.
He lets his eyes drift open until he's staring hard at the blank wall across from him, doing his best to focus on the hand - and he's quite sure now that it's a hand - sliding gently down the length of his wing.
It's not that it feels bad - quite the opposite, actually - it's just unusual. He rarely ever lets anyone touch his wings, and only those he trusts implicitly, but...he hadn't exactly been opposed when Phil had first laid a hand on them yesterday...
Fuck that, it'd felt incredible, especially with Phil buried inside him, the extra stimulation...
And he really needs to get a grip on himself - it's not even erotic right now, the feeling he gets from Phil's hand petting down the lay of the feathers. It's just...nice. Comforting. Soothing, actually. Enough that Dan debates pretending he'd never woken up, letting the warm sensation spreading from his wings through to his chest lull him back to sleep. At least Phil hasn't tried to kick him out. In a way, he's deciding he quite loves Phil touching his wings.
But, at the same time, he sort of hates that they exist - he suddenly wants nothing more than to snuggle back into Phil's chest, but he can't very well have that and have Phil running a hand over his wing. He can't even move back without the discomfort of scrunching his wings up even more than they already are.
Which is how he ends up huffing out a disgruntled breath, and then desperately wishing he could suck it back in the moment Phil's hand stills.
"Dan?" Phil's voice comes out soft, low, a little hoarse, like he'd only just woken up. And as much as Dan would like to pretend he's still fast asleep, Phil's hand still hasn't moved, like he's waiting for a response.
"Hm?" A part of Dan wants to turn around, but that requires so much effort and he's more likely to smack Phil in the face with a wing than make a smooth go of it, so he stares in mildly frustrated silence at the wall.
"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you, sorry," Phil's hand disappears along with the warmth.
"You didn't," Dan lies, but there's a huff of laughter behind him and he can practically imagine the tired smirk on Phil's face.
"Right, you just happened to wake up the same exact time I touched your wing. You can just tell me not to, y'know," Phil mumbles, then there's a rustle of the covers and movement in the mattress like Phil's shifting.
"Fine, you woke me," Dan grumbles, "but I didn't want you to stop." He decides it's okay to say this when he's staring at the wall, and maybe facing this direction hadn't been such a bad idea after all. He's not sure what his confidence levels would be like had he been facing Phil.
Angel Boy part III
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