🌵FROM
https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profrock/pseuds/Profrock
teacher phil
student dan
(College au)
Words:5839
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part 1 : Psyche You Out
Usually, Dan's nine a.m. psychology class on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays is the highlight of his week. Despite all of the weird looks he receives whenever he tells someone, Dan Howell actually is morning person, functioning at a much higher level between the hours of seven a.m. and one p.m. than at any other time of day. Plus, psychology is actually something he's knowledgeable about and likes, as opposed to all of the other dry, boring judiciary classes his parents made him sign up for. The professor is also young, and cute, but more importantly engaging, and that only really serves to heighten Dan's appreciation for the class.
Dan says usually his favorite, because really anything at nine a.m. ceases to be any amount of enjoyable when hung-over on cheap tequila, amazingly interesting psychology class included.
Low-key hung over and high-key tired to the point of falling asleep, Dan is furiously trying to keep himself together until at least the end of class. He has an ethics and law seminar at one, but he figures no one will particularly care if he skips it to sleep off last night. For some reason, he seemed to have thought body shots were a good idea, and had woken up with rum sticky in his collarbones, along with something that smelled strangely of butterscotch.
Shaking his head violently a few times, Dan sneaks a glance up at the clock hanging above the door: 9:57. No way is he going to make it through two more hours. He groans silently and tunes back in to Dr. Lester's lecture.
Dr. Lester is, in short, nothing Dan had ever seen before. All of the teachers he had had throughout middle school, high school and into university were basically the same monotone, grumpy old people, just with different grumpy faces. On the complete opposite of the spectrum, Dr. Lester is young – seriously, he can't be over thirty, and his smile makes him look twelve, tops – enthusiastic and energetic, always moving his (rather nice) hands twice as fast as his mouth while speaking.
"Well, somebody's having fun today, isn't that right Mr. Howell?" Dr. Lester asks with a half smile. He's known for his easy interactions with students, joking with and lightly poking fun at them. It's really more endearing than anything else.
Something about Dr. Lester's low voice, or maybe the fact that Dan has been crushing on him for weeks, or just his alcohol-addled and sleep-deprived brain, has Dan opening his mouth to respond before he really consciously thinks about it.
"Yes, Daddy," Dan mumbles, blinking hard and fluttering his eyelids open. The people within earshot – only about the entire room – explodes into giggles. Dan frowns, racing back through what had just happened. Had Dr. Lester said something? He didn't think so.
Then what Dan had said sinks in, and he goes redder than his binder, ducking his head to hide his burning cheeks and pulling his sleeves over his hands in shame. He bites his lips and tries to laugh weakly along, risking one flicker of his eyes upwards. They lock with Dr. Lester's, who just fucking winks once at Dan before calling for silence and continuing on with his lecture. Dan sits there, stunned, as Dr. Lester continues his usual meandering path around the room as he speaks.
Did he seriously just call his professor 'daddy' by accident? And did said professor really just wink at him because of it?
The shot of adrenaline straight to his heart is more than enough for Dan to stay focused for the rest of the class, keeping his eyes resolutely fixed on the laptop screen full of typed notes in front of him.
*
Dan is out of his seat like a shot as soon as Dr. Lester dismisses them, eager to put as much distance as possible between himself and his professor.
"Mr. Howell?" Dr. Lester calls as Dan has one foot out the door. Dan grits his teeth, lowers his head, and turns back around.
"Good luck," one of his classmates snickers, elbowing Dan lightly as he pushes past him and out into the warm afternoon sun. Dan considers both flipping the guy off and sticking his tongue out, neither of which seems mature enough so he settles for a particularly sassy eye roll instead.
"Yes, sir?" Dan says, pulling his sleeves over his hands and clutching his backpack strap, the tattered black bag slung hastily over his right shoulder.
"Oh, so I've been promoted to 'sir' now?" Dr. Lester teases, fingers tapping on his laptop keys. Dan flushes red again, biting his lip.
"Oh my, I'm sorry, that was inappropriate," Dr. Lester corrects himself, standing up and tossing an apologetic look Dan's way. "Sorry, I sometimes forget that I'm supposed to be the mature one in the room."
"It's fine, sir," Dan says.
Dr. Lester smiles. "Still. It was inappropriate of me Daniel, and I am sorry. Now. What I wanted to talk to you about." He turns his laptop screen around. Dan leans in, reading a few lines and recognizing it as the paper he turned in the week prior.
"Is everything all right with it, sir?" he asks, suddenly worried. "I didn't think there was anything wrong with it –" "Daniel, relax," Dr. Lester says with a smile. "There is absolutely nothing wring with your paper. Quite the opposite, actually. This is post-graduate level work here Daniel, and the head of the department is thoroughly convinced you're not the one writing what you turn in."
Dan feels his stomach fall into his silver-studded Converse. "But I am?" he says, panicked. "I – I am, I write all of my stuff, I promise, I'd never use someone else's –"
"Woah, Daniel, slow down. It's okay. I for one don't think you're plagiarizing anyone's anything. But we are still going to have to schedule a time where you can come in and talk to the head of department, and possibly write an essay under his supervision."
"What, so he doesn't think some skinny little boy in nail polish can be smart?" Dan snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. Phil sits back in his chair. "Okay, no need to be so salty," he says, raising an eyebrow. "And do you really wear nail polish?" Dan flashes him a hand, fingers splayed. "Cool," Dr. Lester notices with a nod. Dan tucks his hand into his sweater pocket.
"Is that all, sir?" he asks, readjusting his bag.
"Of course, Mr. Howell. But let me just say, if you're that out of it on a class day, I'd advise staying home and sleeping instead."
Dan's ears burn with the force of his blush.
"Yes sir," he mumbles, staring fixedly at the toes of his Converse. "I'll go lighter on the drinking games on Sunday nights."
Dr. Lester laughs, a proper laugh, one that makes Dan want to drop all his embarrassment and join in.
"I'm just saying that a few of you other professors might not be as entertained, by your, ah, outbursts." Dan sort of hopes the floor will just swallow him whole.
"But in all seriousness," Dr. Lester leans forward with a dangerous smile, clasping his hands together and resting his forearms on his desk. "I did not put you down for a daddy kink."
Pink creeping up to his hairline now, Dan maintains eye contact. "Oh yeah? And why are you even thinking about my kinks anyways?"
"I'm a psychology professor, Daniel," Phil says with a wink. "I have to make my life at least a little bit more interesting. My grad school friend and I play a game sometimes, where we try and guess things about a person based on what we observe. It makes for quite a bit of fun if the stakes are high enough."
"Yeah?" Dan's getting into it now, pulling up a chair and perching primly on the edge of it, his legs crossed, facing Dr. Lester. "And what are you playing for?"
Dr. Lester shrugs. "I have to buy him plane tickets to India if he wins, he has to buy and bring me coffee every day for a month if I win, but that's not the point." He leans in over the desk, blue-grey eyes flashing in the light in a way Dan can only describe as predatory. He doesn't have any explanation for what it makes his stomach twist like it does.
"See, Daniel, I am a scientist, and not knowing is the bane of my existence. I can sit here and think and theorize all I like, but what's the point if I never get to know the truth?" He sucks his lower lip between his teeth, releasing it teasingly slowly.
"And let me guess," Dan says, pleased with how unaffected he sounds. "You've somehow managed to work out through me speech patterns and the imprint of my left thumb that I find you attractive?"
"Oh no." Dr. Lester smirks. "That much is as obvious to anyone with half a brain. Really Daniel, you must be more subtle when you stare at my ass."
The realization slowly sinks in just how far into illegal waters Dan really is. Nevertheless the small jolt, the thrill he's getting from doing something so dangerous, so potentially explosive, drives him deeper.
"Oh, no shame anymore, professor?" Dan asks primly, shifting his weight onto one foot. He grins internally at how Dr. Lester's eyes follow the sway of his hips.
"Darling, I never had any to begin with," Dr. Lester hums, low and rough and fucking filthy. Dan shivers, sucking in a sharp breath. Dr. Lester smirks.
"Well, it was lovely meeting with you sir," Dan giggles, turning on his heel and flashing a devastating smile back over his shoulder. Dr. Lester stands up behind his desk, confused. "But I really must be going to my next classes. Wouldn't want to be marked down, now would I?" Phil's lips curl upwards at Dan's flirtatious tone, and he leans his hands on his desk as Dan whirls out of the room without another word. Phil slumps back down in his seat, toying with his phone. He types in his passcode, flicking mindlessly through his contacts before settling on one. He fires off a quick text, stands up, slides his phone on his pocket, and begins to gather his things.
Hey, PJ, you free tonight? I need help, advice, and liquor. Lots of liquor
*
"You fucking imbecile," PJ snorts, shaking his head once Phil had finished with his story. Phil grimaces around a shot, a shrug his only reply.
"Yeah, I know, okay? I dug myself into a nasty hole and now I have absolutely no idea how to get myself out of it," he groans, playing with the tiny glass in his fingers.
"But seriously, he called you 'daddy' in the middle of class?" PJ asks with a scandalized expression, leaning forward. Phil nods, humming too quiet to be heard over the noise of other people in the bar. "Yep. He was half asleep so I made a crack about him having fun, he just mumbled 'yes daddy' and the class exploded."
"As I would assume it would," PJ snorts into his glass. Phil smiles vacantly and turns his head, his empty gaze landing on the ass of a cute boy leaning against the bar. The boy is turned away from Phil, chatting with some people Phil presumes to be his friends. Phil's gaze trips down the figure, taking in the boy's slanted shoulders, slim waist and wide hips, jeans black in the low light of the bar leading in to silver-studded shoes Phil swears he recognizes...
"PJ..." Phil groans, flopping his face into the crook of his arm, torso flush against the wood table. "The kid I was telling you about? Dan? He's right over there." He juts his head in Dan's direction, hissing when PJ's eyes widen and his entire body swings in the direction Phil indicates. "Don't make it obvious!" Phil sputters, keeping his face hidden in his elbow. "Don't draw his attention!"
But, as these things usually go, it's too late. Dan notices PJ's stare, completely confused as to why this stranger is looking at his with an expression of... is that excitement? Dan really doesn't know. He glances over the stranger's shoulder, noticing Dr. Lester peeking sheepishly out from behind his hair and appearing to scold the staring man. Dan mumbles a hasty excuse to his friends, grabbing his drink and moving through the crowd to Dr. Lester's table.
"PJ he coming over he's coming over here oh my god PJ why does god hate me?"
"Don't worry Phil, I don't," PJ says with a playful smile, glancing up to Dan. "Hey sweetheart," PJ says to Dan with a wink, scooting over in the booth and patting the space next to him. Dan flushes bright pink, giggling shyly and sliding in to sit next to PJ.
"Peej, don't flirt with my students," Phil warns, tipping an easy smile in Dan's direction. "Hello Daniel."
"Oh, so your friend here can't flirt with your students but you can?" Dan asks with a quizzically raised eyebrow and a saucy smile, settling in to his seat with his chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on the table.
Phil is somewhat taken aback by Dan's cheeky remark, sitting straighter and settling back, taking up more space. He's at a loss for words.
PJ looks amazed, swinging glances back and forth between Phil and Dan as if they're in a tennis match, duce in the final set.
"I'm sorry, Daniel, for my behavior earlier." Phil finally manages to find his voice, and he almost winces with how formal and removed he sounds. "I crossed so many lines, and I behaved inappropriately. I fully understand if you would like to report me to the dean of students, or if you would feel more comfortable dropping or switching out of my class." He fixes his gaze at the center of the table, resolutely avoiding Dan's eye contact.
"And what if I don't want to do either of those things, hmm?" Dan asks, tracing a mindless pattern with the drops of condensation on the tabletop. Both of those things are a step back from what he really wants, which is namely a chance to possibly kiss his stupidly attractive psychology professor. He sits back with a smirk, tapping a painted fingernail against the glass he's holding. "Where'd all the sudden humility come from, daddy?"
Phil snaps at the last word, sitting straight with his shoulders broad and allowing himself to fall into his dominant headspace. PJ instantly recognizes the look and shrinks back into the corner, trying his best to blend into the dark paneling. Half of him feels like he should leave and half of him wants to film it, but he can't do either so he settles for watching.
"You're playing a very dangerous game here, Daniel," Phil warns, his voice half an octave deeper and twice as gravelly as it usually is. PJ watches, fascinated, to the effect it seems to have on Dan: His shoulders fall slightly; his hands drop from the table and find themselves clasped loosely behind his back; his legs spread a subconscious few inches. Phil snickers.
"Do you know what you're doing, Daniel?" Phil asks, eyeing Dan. "Do you know what you're asking for?"
"Yeah," Dan mumbles, voice high and breathy. Phil stands up and his hand flashes forward, fingers catching Dan's jaw to force him to hold Phil's gaze.
"What do you say?" Phil asks. The words would have been light and teasing if not for the way he says them, low and rough and fucking dangerous. "Yes sir," Dan all but moans, and PJ is seriously considering making some noise about the two of them getting a room, or at least letting him leave, if not for the way Phil looks like he's itching to murder someone. PJ swallows and stays put.
A concerned waitress is tossing unsure glances towards Phil and Dan as she serves drinks to the people seated at the table next to theirs. PJ catches her eye and shakes his head, signaling that they're all right. She nods slowly, but still keeps a wary eye on their table as she helps customers at the counter.
"Have you had anything to drink tonight?" Phil asks Dan, oblivious to everything else. Dan swallows and does his best to shake his head, but Phil's hold on his jaw renders that rather impossible. "No, sir," he answers instead. "Nothing but soda."
Phil narrows his eyes, noticing with a slight sense of twisted satisfaction the shivers that it sends through Dan, picking up the boy's glass and sipping.
"You're telling the truth," Phil notes, releasing his hold on Dan and sitting back down. "Yeah, I do that occasionally," Dan snorts with an eye roll, and Phil's lips curl back on a snarl. "I would punish you, but we're in public."
Phil doesn't hear the small sound Dan ekes out but PJ does, and it does nothing but heighten his growing discomfort. It's one thing to be your best friend's wingman, or hear stories about their hookups. It's quite another to actually be right there while said best friend and one of his students of all things are basically dirty-talking each other across the table.
A small noise from PJ, just the clearing of his throat really, snaps Dan and Phil out of their intense staring-bordering-on-eye-fucking contest. Phil's eyes flicker to PJ's face while Dan's avert downwards, focusing on the half-full glass in front of him.
"Yeah," Phil agrees with PJ's wordless question, his voice a little bit lower, a little bit rougher than usual. Dan desperately tries to squash the pride swelling in his chest because of it.
"Later," Phil mutters to PJ, looking back down at Dan. "Come on," he all but orders, striding confidently towards the door without even needed to glance back to know Dan is trailing him like an excited puppy.
PJ breathes out, sinking low against the back of the booth, toying with the straw in his glass. He deliberates for a few moments before standing up, tipping a kind smile to the worried waitress, and sidling up to the bar to order another drink. No way in hell does he want to accidentally walk into Dan and Phil when he leaves.
*
Phil growls, crowding Dan up against the alley wall and humming low at the gasp Dan lets out when his back hits cool bricks. Phil's hands bracketing his head, Dan is forced to look Phil – his psychology professor, his brain reminds him feverishly – straight in the eye. Phil's blue eyes are black with arousal, and everywhere his skin is touching Dan burns white-hot. Dan squirms, pinned under Phil's weight and gaze, feeling positively naked. He bites his lip, his heart racing and his breathing heavy.
Phil crowds in even closer if that's at all possible, his body pressed flush with Dan's from chest to knees. His labored breathing tickles the spot right under Dan's left ear, and Dan's eyes flutter shut as he tilts his head to allow better access.
"You want me," Phil notices. If this at all moves him, his voice doesn't let on. Dan shivers, nodding fervently.
"Yes daddy, yes sir, please," he gasps, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. The desire to touch, to grab and grip and hold itches beneath his fingertips. He presses them, palms flat, against the brick wall to be safe. Phil's nose brushes Dan's jaw and he shudders, biting his lips on a groan. Phil growls low in his throat, a rumbling sound that sends Dan gasping.
"Oh no, there will be none of that." Phil's heart speeds up as he trails his lips against Dan's neck, settling on a spot and sucking the skin between his teeth.
Dan keens when Phil bites down, arching his back and thrashing his head. Phil hands wrap around the sides of Dan's hips, pressing them back into the wall.
"Please," Dan mewls, his hands flashing out and digging into Phil's belt loops, trying to pull Phil's hips into his own. "Fuck. Please, daddy, please. I need –"
"Shhh..." Phil bites and sucks his way up Dan's jaw, trailing his tongue across all of the deep purple bruises forming on pale skin. Dan whimpers when Phil bites down on one of the bruises he made, the dull, pulsing pain sending white-hot spikes of pleasure through Dan.
"Do you want this, Daniel?" Phil murmurs right behind Dan's ear, hot breath ghosting over his neck. "Want me to take you home, spread you out all pretty and fuck so hard you can't remember your name?" Dan could only moan in response, all logical thought having been completely thrown out the window. He just needs Dr. Lester to be touching him right about now. Fuck, even that's too late. Last week preferably.
"Hey. Hey. Dan. Look at me." Dan sluggishly flickers his hooded eyes up to meet Dr. Lester's face, genuine concern hidden behind shiny lips and blown pupils. "Are you okay? Is this you consenting, or your headspace talking?"
Dan fights to swallow through his dry throat, his head involuntarily lolling back on his shoulders. "Hey." Dr. Lester catches Dan's head, one hand supporting it, tangled in brown hair, and the other cupping Dan's cheek roughly.
"Yes. This is me, Daniel James Howell, saying that I would love it if you, Dr. Lester, my psychology professor, would take me home and wreck my ass," Dan hums, glancing up at his professor from under his eyelashes. He sucks Dr. Lester's thumb into his mouth seductively, and any doubts Phil has are quite easily dispelled.
"It's Phil," Dr. Lester says, using the thumb in Dan's moth to drag his jaw down. "My name, it's Phil." He leans in, substituting his tongue for his thumb and licking his way into Dan's mouth. Dan hums, going slack and letting Dr. Lester – Phil – do whatever he likes. Phil pulls back, kissing Dan almost chastely and Dan sighs, his eyes slipping shut and his fingers grabbing onto Phil's hips.
Phil pulls back, his eyes opening and staring down at the gorgeous boy he has, hard and needy, pinned against a wall.
"But I'm never going to stop you calling me daddy," Phil says with a smirk flashing down to leave one last bite mark on Dan's collar. Dan's eyes fly open and he groans, reminded of just how desperate he is. But Phil steps back before Dan can do anything about it, eyeing Dan over and fixing his own hair.
"Come on," he says, turning around and walking away before Dan has a chance to think. "Didn't you want me to take you home?"
*
The cab ride to Phil apartment was, in short, hell. Phil was so close. Dan could feel the heat radiating off of him, feel the slide of their thighs together whenever one of them moved or shifted, smell the scent of paper and sweat and Phil filling the car, and it was driving him mad. He harrumphed, settling for sitting on his hands and leaning his forehead against the cool window of the cab, biting his lip and trying to will his hard-on away. Phil hand snaked out, resting innocently on Dan's knee and began rubbing circles on his thigh. Dan's legs jumped, then spread, and he cursed Phil to high heavens and fixed him with a glare that could have melted steel. Phil just smiled back, his hand still moving when he looked back out the window.
*
"Come on," Dan whines as soon as they exit the car, his hands touching Phil everywhere he can. "Need you daddy, please."
Phil hums in vague assent, ignoring Dan as he unlocks the door, steps inside, and removes his shoes. Dan hovers awkwardly in front of the door, staring holes into Phil's head as he takes what seems to be years to untie his loafers and put them away. Phil stands up, his back to Dan, and rolls his shoulders, popping his neck and sighing before languidly spinning back around.
"Strip."
Dan blinks, confused. "Excuse me?"
"This is the only time I'll repeat myself, Daniel. Strip."
Dan rests his hands unsurely on his belt buckle, glancing around as if he expects a roommate or film crew to pop out from behind the sofa. Phil leans against the wall, arms folded. Watching.
Dan undoes his belt slowly, letting it fall from his fingers with a decisive thud onto the carpeted floor. He kneels down to untie his shoes, stepping out of them and peeling off his socks, stuffing them into his sneakers. He spares a glance up at Phil, meeting cool, blue eyes, and clears his throat, toying with the hem of his shirt for a few moments before finally pulling the clothing up and over his head. Dan doesn't miss the flash of interest across Phil's deliberately impassive face.
His submissive tendencies kicking in, Dan folds his shirt neatly, placing it on top of his shoes. He unbuttons, unzips, and discards his trousers without another moment of consideration, folding those as well and placing them with the rest of his clothing.
With a nod from Phil Dan sheds his pants, leaving the black boxers on top of his jeans.
"Good boy," Phil says softly, pushing up off the wall and stepping over to Dan. The words themselves are enough to bring Dan's half-hard cock to attention again, and he falls to his knees out of instinct.
"Such a pretty, pretty boy," Phil hums, stepping closer and cupping Dan's cheek. Dan's eyes flutter closed and he leans into Phil's touch.
"Thank you daddy," he whispers, leaning forward so he can nuzzle into Phil's crotch. Phil's hands slide into brown hair, the tips beginning to curl from sweat, and steps closer so he's directly in front of Dan's face.
Dan is blinking up at Phil with huge, innocent doe eyes, and Phil would be lying if he says he doesn't enjoy it.
"Come on," Phil says, gripping Dan's hair tighter.
Something dangerous, something hungry, something carnal twinkles behind Dan's eyes, as he opens his mouth and skillfully undoes the button and zipper of Phil's jeans with only his teeth.
"Good with your mouth, huh?" Phil asks rhetorically as Dan shuffles his jeans and boxers midway down his thighs. "Why don't you put it to better use?"
Dan nods eagerly at the suggestion, mouth already watering at the scent of Phil – sweet and musky and male, definitely one of Dan's favorite scents – and the sight of his cock, thick and hard and oh god is it huge.
Dan licks his way down Phil's length, placing little nips and kisses on his hips, balls and thighs. Phil sighs contentedly, winding Dan's hair tighter around his fingers and smirking at the hitched breath that escapes Dan's lips.
Phil is hard, raging, and impatient, but he lets Dan's have his fun for a few moments longer. The muted pleasure is becoming too much however, and he tugs on Dan's hair in a silent order to get things going.
Dan blushes and nods, bringing his hand up to wrap around the base of Phil's cock to stead it as he attaches his lips to the tip, sucking hard and moaning at the sweet-yet-biter flavor that explodes over his tongue.
"Put your hand down, don't' be lazy," Phil scolds, punctuating his command with another sharp tug. Dan whimpers and tries to nod, but Phil's hold on his hair effectively restrains him.
"Yes daddy I understand."
"Good boy." Phil loosens his grip by a fraction of an inch as Dan clasps his hands loosely behind his back, fingers flexing as he sinks as far down as he can, choking and spluttering.
Dan's eyes water and he can barely breathe, but he forces himself to stay down, his throat constricting as he swallows around Phil.
Phil groans appreciatively, dragging Dan further down until the younger's nose is nestled in thick curls, Phil finally allowing himself to let out a husky moan of approval.
The sound of Phil's moan, deep and gravelly sends a white-hot spear of arousal straight to Dan's groin, his cock twitching painfully.
"Fuck you're good," Phil growls, dragging Dan back up his length. Dan blushes, placing one last sloppy, wet kiss to Phil's tip before his sits back on his heels.
"Come on," Phil instructs. Dan scrambles to his feet, cock bobbing.
He follows Phil to his bedroom, letting out a small squeak as Phil shoves him up against the closed door and kisses him, so hard Dan is sure his lips will be bruised by morning.
"Bed. All fours, legs spread," Phil pants into the sweat-slicked skin of Dan's neck, dragging blunt nails down Dan's sides. Dan moans and nods, scrambling to get himself into position.
"Such a good boy," Phil muses, climbing onto the bed behind Dan. He positions himself between Dan's spread thighs, running his hands across Dan's hips.
"Please daddy," Dan begs, pushing his ass back into Phil's hands. "Please what, baby?" Phil asks with a simpering smile. Dan whimpers.
"Please fuck me, daddy, split me open with your cock daddy, please. Need you inside of me, now."
Phil tuts disapprovingly, smacking his palm onto Dan's backside. Dan gasps and jolts, falling to his forearms as a steady steam of "please" and "daddy" trails from his lips.
"Well, since you're asking so nicely," Phil amends, smoothing his hands over this stinging red color Dan's ass was turning. He slaps each check once more before standing up, moving over to grab his supplies.
"No no no," Dan pleads when Phil moves from behind him. "No daddy please come back, please, I need –" "Shhh," Phil whispers, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to any piece of skin he could reach.
Dan is a whimpering mess while Phil is stretching him, so sensitive responsive to each touch. Phil imagines him tied up, muscles straining against rope, saliva and half-formed moans dripping from behind a ball gag. Later, he promises himself, sliding his fingers from Dan's hole. He decidedly doesn't think about the implications of him wanting there to possibly even being a 'later'.
"Daddy please," Dan says again, and Phil finally lets himself give in to what they both desperately crave.
Dan all but screams as Phil enters him, writhing and shaking, sweat and precum dripping onto the sheets beneath him.
"Fuuuck," Phil hisses, as he sheathes himself in warmth, his hips pressed flush to Dan. "Fuck me daddy, come on," Dan groans when Phil doesn't move for a moment, taking matters into his own hands and beginning to fuck himself on Phil, bouncing back and forth on his cock.
Phil growls, grabbing both of Dan's wrists in one hand, his hand pressing Dan's shoulders into the bed. Dan's moans are constant as Phil begins to move, as fast and hard as he can to start.
"Yes!" Dan shouts, arching his back when Phil hits his prostate, eyes squeezed shut and mouth slack with ecstasy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants as he crushes his face back into the sheets, thighs shaking with from pleasure. He can feel it, the rising tension in his abdomen, signaling his oncoming orgasm.
"Daddy, please, I'm gonna –" "Come untouched," Phil finishes for him, postponing his hips even harder. Dan's eyes roll back in his head and his mouth hangs slack, high, staccato 'ah's ejected from his parted lips every time Phil pushes in.
Dan comes moments after that, with a crescendo of screams and pleas and 'daddy'. Phil gasps, fucking into Dan one last time before his own high overtakes him, leaning down to sink his teeth into the juncture of Dan's neck and shoulder as he comes inside of him.
Phil winces as he pulls out, the drag too much for his over-sensitive cock. Dan rolls over, eyes glassy and lips open, shiny and spit-slicked. Phil lurches forward on instinct, taking Dan's wet cock into his hand and thumbing over the head. He watches, fascinated, as Dan's fucked-out grin twists into a grimace, his head thrashing and knees jerking as he tries to pull away from the almost painful twinges Phil's hands are giving him. Phil drops it after a few moments more, dragging his clean hand through his sweaty hair.
"Hey. Dan," he says gently, cupping Dan's cheek. Dan blinks languidly up at him, purring his satisfaction when Phil's hand pushes his sticky hair back off his face. "Shower, yeah?" Phil asks, his question met with a hesitant nod from Dan.
The shower is warm and cuddly, with comfortable touches and soft smiles. Phil rubs his fingers over the purple marks on Dan's neck, shiny under the water. Dan mewls and turns his head, and Phil dips down to kiss over all of them gently, his fingers heavy and reassuring on Dan's hips.
"Dan?" Phil asks once they're both clean and dried, each dressed in a pair of Phil's sweatpants and a t-shirt, laying together on Phil's bed. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing."
"Okay," Dan says with a yawn, pressing a sleepy kiss to Phil's nose. "It won't be." Phil blinks. "It's that simple for you?"
"Yeah." Dan snuggles into Phil's side, his face tucked into Phil's chest. "It isn't for you?"
"No," Phil says softly, staring down at the mess of brown curls in his arms. "I mean yes, yes it is."
"Okay," Dan hums, his eyes sliding shut, his eyelashes ticking Phil's collarbones. "I'll see you in the morning. Talk then?"
"Yeah," Phil said. "Yeah of course."
"Good."
*
"Well, someone had fun last night," Dr. Lester says with a laugh from his perch on top of his own desk, golf-clapping as Dan slides into a seat with a vaguely sheepish expression.
"You know it," he shoots back with a wink. Dr. Lester throws his head back and laughs, long and loud.
"Anyways," Dr. Lester says, clapping his hands and hopping off of his desk. He types something quickly into his laptop and turns to face the class with a smile.
"Now, we will pick up where we lest of yesterday with..." Dan's phone buzzes in his pocket.
From: Phil Lester
While I appreciate the sign of your ownership, you might want to wear a scarf for the rest of the week. See you tonight. Xoxo (you should have told me if I was being so rough!!!!)
Dan types out a quick reply with a smirk, shoving his phone back into his pocket and tuning back in to what Dr. Lester is saying.
From: Dan Howell
I have a wireless vibrator up my ass and the remote in my pocket. Xxx see you tonight