A/N Welcome to my twisted mind.
I'm just kidding, oh my god.
So this is my first real fic and I'm SO excited about it. I would like to thank my glorious beta, Fal, who can be found on AO3 by the name oceanbones or on tumblr as danisnotasynonymforshitty. She is fantastic and I cannot call this fic anything other than a joint effort. She really helped me out a lot here. She is a genius.
I would also like to say as a disclaimer: I cannot condone the shipping extremities I have seen online. Dan and Phil are real people and they deserve the respect of making their own decisions and living their own lives. I'm all for fan fiction (obviously) and other forms of expression, but there is a fine line between creative expression and invasion of privacy. Everything in this fic was created because their friendship inspired me and then my brain threw up all over my mac.
Anyway… This is going to (hopefully) be an ongoing fic (slow burn) and I'm excited and terrified to see all of your reactions to it! Please let me know how we are doing so far! ((if you so desire, you can find me on tumblr as vacuumsscream until halloween or as vacuumssuck afterwards))
From: PJ
9:18PM, Nov 19
You and Chris be careful tonight alright mate?
9:50PM, Nov 19
Dan?
10:00PM, Nov 19
You arseholes are already drunk aren't you?
10:32PM, Nov 19
You can crash here if you don't want to take the tube home drunk
10:32PM, Nov 19
Just climb through the window, I'll keep it unlocked
—-
Somehow, in the throes of drunken stupor, Dan found his way to PJ's neighbourhood. He wobbled his way up to the apartment building and paused, looking up to his potential haven. As much as he wanted the glorious comfort of PJ's couch to sleep on, the physical exertion it would take to scale up the fire escape was less than appealing. Motivated solely by the notion of a warm room and a soft surface to sleep on, he dragged himself up the fourth floor. Upon reaching the open window he burst into the flat. Exhausted from the climb and the alcohol coursing through his body, he flopped on the last thing he took in was the loud ticking of an obnoxious clock, and he vaguely recalled how often PJ had complained about Dan's own cuckoo clock. He was asleep before the hypocrisy could manifest as thought.
—-
Something hard and plastic poked into Dan's face, successfully waking him up from his heavy and dreamless sleep. He groaned and sat up.
"C'mon, I've got the worst headache right now. Give me a break will you?" His words were groggy and slurred. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, clearing his vision.
Standing cautiously about a meter away from him was a complete stranger holding a broomstick, wearing pyjamas and a terrified expression.
Dan jerked upright in horrified confusion. He scanned the room despite his aching head and failed to see PJ. He looked back at the flannel-clad stranger, who didn't look like he was quite sure what to do. Dan was sure he was wearing a similar disturbed expression. Cloudy and disoriented, he tried to get his bearings.
"Who the hell are you?"
The stranger looked taken aback. "Who am I? You're the one who broke into my flat! Who are you?"
"Broke into your flat?" Dan couldn't recall breaking and entering as being one of his typical drunken behaviours, "This is PJ's flat." He reassessed the room to assuage any doubt, but in his foggy state nothing looked familiar, "Where the hell is PJ?"
"Wait," the stranger lowered his broomstick apprehensively, "do you mean PJ Liguori?"
"Yeah."
"PJ as in the guy who lives in number 43?" Uncertain as to where the stranger was taking this, Dan nodded. "As in the PJ who lives next to number 42?"
"Oh my God!" Mortification flushed his face red, "This… is not PJ's flat is it?"
The stranger shook his head
"Oh my God, I am so so sorry!" Suddenly significantly more nauseous, he scrambled to collect his shoes, which he had toed off at some point during the night, and his phone, wallet and keys, which had fallen from his pocket into a sprawled mess on the floor. "I'm such an idiot. I cannot actually believe that I broke into some random person's home. PJ and Chris will never let me forget this." Dan stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to the nameless stranger with panic filled eyes. "Please, I know I just broke into your flat and I slept on your couch and I should be thankful I'm not locked up in prison right now—" Dan stopped mid-thought. "Why aren't I locked up in prison right now?"
The stranger looked sheepish, "I've never actually had a strange person appear on my couch before. I wasn't really sure what to do."
"Jesus Christ!" Dan waffled, "You could have been murdered! What if I was a murderer?"
The stranger raised his broomstick again apprehensively.
"I mean I'm not!" Dan raised his hands in surrender, "Dear God. I'm not a murderer. But who doesn't call the police after getting broken into?"
The stranger shrugged, "I mean, if it came down to it, I could defend myself." The stranger twirled the broomstick in a sad imitation of kendo complete with tentative and probably culturally insensitive sound effects.
This hardly reassured Dan as he rubbed his throbbing head. He could always just casually mention to PJ that the building should really tighten its security. Before he could think about how irrational it was that he cared about the safety of this person he didn't know, the stranger halted his display
"I think you were going to ask me something before you got so preoccupied with my welfare."
Dan blinked, "Yeah, erm. Look, so I know you've already done me a huge favour by not, you know, having me arrested or whatever, but would you mind not mentioning this to PJ? He will literally ridicule me until I want to die."
The stranger considered briefly, and then nodded. "I won't tell him outright but you should know that I'm shit at lying, so if he ever asks me for some reason, I'll probably give it away by accident."
Appeased, Dan turned toward the door again, "I imagine that it is pretty safe to say that that will never come up in conversation." He paused and looked back at the stranger, "Erm, thanks again for not killing me or calling the police or, like, filming me sleep or anything. You didn't film me sleep did you?" The stranger looked offended. "Okay, just checking. Sorry for all of this."
"No problem! Well, I mean, it was kind of a problem but I suppose it was just an honest mistake so there's no harm done. I'm Phil by the way. In case you were wondering whose sense of security you've permanently damaged."
"Dan," He winced and opened the door. Turning to leave, he slammed into someone who had apparently been standing just outside. They both stumbled back. "Well, fuck me," Dan cradled his head, staring at PJ who looked more confused than anyone else had been that entire morning, "I can't catch a goddamn break."
A/N
So I was freaking out because I didn't have a title for this fic yet and I really wanted to post it, but then Fal gave me this brilliant suggestion:
"Hey :) I had a thought for a title, but it's just a thought. There's this poem that Dan has said he holds very dear called "Nature Boy," and it sort of talks about a boy who travels around and stumbles upon the author one day. I guess it sort of reminded me of Dan stumbling across Phil in your story. Anyway there's a line that says: "A little shy and sad of eye, but very wise was he." So I sort of liked Sad of Eye as a title, but it's just a suggestion :)"
Obviously I didn't go with the line that she suggested (not that I didn't think it was a good thought cuz, I mean, I literally stole her idea) but I thought the line Fools and Kings kind of sums up what Dan and Phil are about. They can be completely ridiculous and talk about potatoes one second and then Dan gets all existential the next.
Anyway, please let me know how you liked (or didn't like) this first chapter! I'm going to try to update fairly regularly but uni life gets in the way sometimes.
~Madeleine