I do not own A Daydream Away; the song, all credit and lyrics belong to All Time Low, and related personnel. I do not gain any profit from this.
I also do not own Dan or Phil. They are their own people. I am not claiming this happened in real life.
"How do you manage to get chocolate near your eyebrow?"
"I don't know, it's a gift." Phil rubbed at his face, smearing the chocolate until it disappeared. He was grinning, ear to ear; his azure eyes sparkling bright.
"It's not even a talent. It's an accident. And a messy one at that."
"I'm not the messiest thing in this room. That would be everywhere else." He said, gesturing to the chocolate, flour, and general baking ingredient-covered room.
"Except for where we're sitting." I pointed out.
"I think this maybe the biggest mess I've ever made. Actually I think this is the first time I've used the kitchen for something other than beverages or the occasional sandwich."
"And it worked out so good this time. It explains why we're sitting here, on a cold tile floor, covered in flour and chocolate."
"I'm sure they taste good."
"Sure, once you scrape away the burnt edges. Tell me what magnificent wonder we're cooking next Phil? A 3-tier wedding cake?" I asked sarcastically.
"If you're going to be like that, you can clean up all by yourself."
"This is your apartment!"
"That doesn't mean I have to clean it up."
"Yes it does! I'm supposed to be a guest, not your slave!"
Phil flopped his head onto my lap. I could see everything under the florescent light; the small flour specks dusted on his dark hair, smeared onto his jeans, his shoes. I could see a small splotch of chocolate just under his chin. I saw the smooth curve of his pale neck, the way his collar bones jutted out a little because of the position he was in. I noticed everything, in more detail than I had before.
"Is your heart beating fast?" Phil asked, lifting his head up.
"No." I said hastily, wiling my heart to slow down.
"Oh, okay." He put his head back down.
"We really should clean up, you know." He said.
"But it's so nice right now, just sitting here. The cleaning can wait, cant it?".
"I suppose it's not going to go anywhere."
"Exactly."
We sat there silently, the only sounds to be heard occasional horn beeps, the odd siren or alarm ringing through the night. I found myself drifting into my thoughts, wishing we could stay in the same position for the rest of our lives.
"Dan...Dan, are you even listening to me?"
I was brought out of my reverie when Phil started shaking my shoulders; bringing me away from the wonderful daydream where I was imagining what it would be like to wake up next to him every morning.
Back in reality, however, I was a distraught uni student and he was a popular video maker. It would never, was never going to work between us. I'd never even had a real, proper relationship. I wouldn't know what to do, or say if something, by some miracle, did happen.
"I'm sorry Phil; I was caught up in my thoughts. What were you saying?"
"I was saying we should probably start cleaning up, it's getting kind of late."
I looked down at my watch, startled by how fast the time had passed.
"Crap, yeah. I have to get up early for class tomorrow."
I stood up and offered Phil my hand, trying and failing to ignore the warm tingle brought on by the feel of his hand against mine.
"If it's too late you can always just go...not that I want you to go, but I can always clean up myself if need be."
"No, no. I caused the mess as well; I'm going to help you."
"Dan, you really don't need to..."
"Nonsense." I busied myself cleaning up the paraphernalia, loading up the dishwasher. Phil stared at me, a puzzled and calculating look. I kept my eyes from him, concentrating on the task at hand.
Phil grabbed a sponge, and started scrubbing the bench and the walls. I flitted around him, wiping chocolate from the cupboard doors. I got the mop and cleaned the floor, wiping the soapy water until the tiles looked white again.
"Thanks for helping."
"Of course, what are friends for?" I asked, choking on the last word. Phil didn't notice, and I occupied myself by putting the mop away.
"Dan, look. If it's too late, you can always stay here tonight."
"No, it's okay. I have some last minute studying I should probably do."
"At least let me give you a ride."
"No..."
"Dan. It's bone-freezingly cold outside. If you're not staying here, I'm dropping you home. And I'm not taking no for an answer."
His arms were crossed, highlighting the outlines of muscles on his arm. I thought of what it would be like with those arms around me, and dismissed the thought as soon as it appeared. It would not do me any good to daydream about Phil; not when anything would ever happen between us and certainly not when Phil was in the same room as I was.
"Fine. But don't think I'm doing this because you told me there wasn't any other option. I'm doing this because it's cold outside, and for no other reason.
"Are you telling me I don't have complete control over your thoughts and actions?" Phil asked, feigning shock as he grabbed his jacket and keys.
"You must be blinder then I thought if you think that." I replied, shrugging my own jacket on.
He drove me home, the car ride was silent, the only sound Muse's Starlight filling the small space, the notes and tones floating through the air.
I said goodnight, grinning as Phil waved to me, his hand moving frantically until I reached the door. I watched through the window as Phil drove off, the street sinking back into the shadows until the only light came from the mellow streetlights outside. I climbed up the creaking stairs to my room, wincing as the squeaky door scraped open.
I flopped onto my bed, ignoring the fact I was still wearing my clothes; letting sleep and dreams of my best friend fill my mind.
The Phil-Fantasies as I had come to call them, were starting to annoy me. I knew I could never call him my own, but that didn't mean I really wanted to dream and think of him every second.
I just had to admire him from afar. Because I would much rather have my best friend then lose him because of my stupid feelings.
Phil called me up that weekend, asking if I wanted to hang out. I was tempted to say no, penitently reject his offer; but in the end, I said yes. Because I had been having a stressful week, hectically cramming for the upcoming exams; and in the end escaping my problems, even for a night...I wasn't stupid enough to actually say no.
That Saturday, we ended up at the park; just walking around and discussing everything and nothing.
"I'm just saying, I don't see why they do it?"
"Good lay? Who knows. Maybe the guy's rich, and she's just a money-hungry gold-digger?"
"Or maybe she's on the run from the law, and he's the only way she can survive. And he's just a lonely man looking for love; foolishly captivated by her bright eyes and pearly teeth. Perhaps he fell for her charms, believing someone actually loved him. But it was all a lie."
Phil was gazing in the distance, and I stared at him. The sun was bouncing off his hair, bright rays reflected in his eyes. His lips were plump, but looked dry, as if the cool wind had frozen all moisture on them.
Within a second, I stopped staring at Phil's face. Instead, I was staring into his eyes; I could feel myself falling into the sapphire orbs.
"Your eyes sparkle in the daylight." Phil said, muttering as if he wasn't talking to me, but rather himself.
"Pardon?" I asked, certain I was daydreaming again; sure I would be brought crashing back to reality.
"Nothing." Phil shook his head.
"Did I go too far?" He asked.
"No, I think it was a very accurate description."
We sat there, pressed against an old oak tree; wind rustling, distant kids squealing joyously.
"Dan, you're of legal age, aren't you?" Phil asked me suddenly.
"I'm 19...so yeah. Why?"
"We should go out tonight. You and me, two mates; the whole town waiting for us to explore. What do you think?"
I mulled the thought over. I could become a little...over-affectionate once I started drinking; nearing close to what I had coined the sexual predator drunk if I had enough.
Hell to it. I was young, and I wanted to drink my troubles away. Even if it meant the main cause of them would be by my side.
"Sure. Why not?"
And we did. I drunk, and Phil drunk, and as the night dragged on, and the town drunkards meandered around the street, Phil and I staggered to his car.
"Dan, let me drive you home. Regardless of how much you've had to drink, you don't have a license."
"If I've had too much to drink, then you've drowned yourself. Look, my house is only a few minutes' walk away; stay at my house tonight."
"I don't have clothes."
"I've got extra clothes. We're basically the same size."
"Okay. But when we both wake up with a killer hangover tomorrow, who's cooking breakfast?" Phil asked.
"You." We both said at the same time, erupting into an alcohol-fuelled laughing fit.
We stumbled home; the only thing providing support was each other.
I gave Phil a spare shirt, and he collapsed onto my bed. Instead of disturbing him and trying to squeeze onto the small mattress; I slept on the couch, his shiny eyes appearing behind my eyelids.
We were both to hung-over and sick the next day to do much; so we wasted away the day by playing video games and watching Buffy reruns. Phil stayed again that night, and this time we shared the bed; Phil's face so close to mine I could feel his breath and smell his aftershave.
But dreams couldn't last forever; Monday came and with it Phil's absence. I left for uni in the morning, Phil asleep in my bed, snoring lightly. And when I came home, he was gone, the only evidence he had ever been there dirty dishes and discarded game controllers.
And yet, for some foolish reason; I went over to his place the next Friday. We made pancakes; actually using a recipe this time, leaving the mess to a minimum.
We washed the pancakes down with salt and lime, downing shots and mixers late into the night.
"Dan...I really like you." Phil slurred. We had collapsed on the couch, and his head was currently resting on my shoulder.
"I like you too Phil, you're my best mate."
"No, no you don't understand." He whined.
"Well, help me understand." I was a little more sober than Phil; which meant my thoughts were comprehensible, and my confusion real.
"I really like you. More than a friend."
"Phil..."
"I like-like you Dan." Phil whispered, his face only inches from mine as he stared at me.
"Phil, you're drunk; you don't know what you're saying."
"I know how I feel about you Dan! I love you."
"Phil, please. Let me help you to bed, we can discuss this in the morning." I pulled him to his feet, and he stumbled into my arms.
Our lips crashed together, and against every bone in my body, against my own will I kissed him back. It was a moment I had been waiting for since we first met; and it was that crushing realisation and the taste of vodka on his lips that stopped me from kissing Phil any more.
"Phil. We can discuss this in the morning. For now, you are going to bed."
But when the morning came, discussions didn't happen. Because after Phil had downed two glasses of water and four pain killers; he wanted food, and after he had been fed...it was painfully obvious he didn't remember our kiss the night before; and I certainly wasn't going to bring it up.
In the end, the only way Phil and I would ever be more than friends was in my dreams; and if I had to slip onto my thoughts during class to kiss Phil again...so be it.
Friendships were more important than doomed relationships; and if I told Phil, I would lose him. Our friendship would burn...better not to say anything at all. Not that I would know what to say in the first place.
(I've been having a recent all time low obsession; what better than to write a phanfic huh? I will have LTTA up soon i promise)