WARNINGS FOR: Language and a brief mention of sex

This is my own idea that I had in mind, based on a headcannon someone submitted for 2012!Phan. So, I decided to apply it to a general term. Also, I already got a prompt for a chapter (granted they did say it would be good for chapter one but I'm pushing it to chapter two because I had already started this chapter before they gave me the prompt)! So I'll definitely be sure to get on that after this chapter. For the mood of this, I've been listening to "Amarillo" by the Gorillaz on repeat, so if that helps with setting up the tone then go for it. Thank you guys so much for reading! Enjoy!

-Elena


Chapter One

With a Comma after Dearest

Dan had a small, private folder on his laptop containing documents of all the things he was too afraid to say. The notes were sorted out by year, each word file being one whole year's worth of words that never escaped his lips. The lyrics had travelled through his mind and down to his throat, flowing across his tongue only to be stopped by his teeth, never to exit his mouth – only for him to swallow the lines back down, never to be seen again.

All of these words were for Phil.

It drove him mad, really, having to hide so much from his best friend and yet at the same time remain so open with him. Well, now that he thought about it, he had very little to hide; and yet the secret he was keeping weighed down so heavily on him that it might as well be worth a million average secrets. The secret crushed his weak body, the one thing he was trying so hard to hide so hard had hurt him so much. It was the elephant in the room, so to speak. It was his Achilles Heel.

He was in love.

That's right. Daniel James Howell, a nobody, a college dropout from Wokingham, Berkshire, is in love with yet another person way out of his league. He was in love with Phil Lester. Who would have thought?

Oh, but he didn't dare to once mention the thought. For all he knew, telling Phil about his feelings could result in one of two options: the one that Dan had always hoped for – which involved Phil reciprocating his feelings to him – or the one that Dan was anticipating to be the reality of his situation. Rejection. Either way, his relationship with Phil would never be the same again. He decided to do what he had always done best in his life. He decided to bottle up his feelings, locking them inside and refusing to let them out so that way everything was safe.

It wasn't fair.

Dan was popular. He had millions of subscribers, a steady home life, and enough money to buy practically whatever he wanted in the world. But the one thing he truly wanted was the one thing he could never have.

Phil.

Phil. Phil. Phil.

God, he loved Phil. There was no doubt about it. His heart was holding the maximum amount of love that could be held and then some – it was practically bleeding out of his ears. Dan had never thought it was possible to love a person as much as he loved Phil, but he did. There was no denying it and there was no turning back now.

He loved the smile that glowed brighter than a sunshine's rays. He loved the way he'd poke his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he'd giggle over various things that the pair would say. He loved how his eyes were pools of life itself, swirling around in an intoxicating trance when he'd glance around his shoulder. He loved his voice, varying from the little yelps of fear to his exhausted yawns of gentle thunder. He loved his inner beauty, a personality so stunning and breathtaking that it would set a god's eyes ablaze. Above all else, he loved Phil.

He loved him, and he couldn't have him.

He loved him. Oh, how he loved him. It wasn't fair.

He loved Phil. He wanted Phil. He needed Phil. The desire for his love was so strong he could practically taste it on the tip of his teeth. And he couldn't have it.

Dan let that thought linger around in his head for a moment before he added it to the word document. The list was getting to be quite long this year. It always did. He had so many things he wanted to say.


Time was one of those possessions that either came in an overabundance or in a scarcity. It all depended on the user's relationship with time and their interactions with it.

To Phil Lester, he had too much time on his hands. To Dan Howell, however, he didn't have enough.

Dan knew that his time was coming. Death was inevitable, he knew this, and he was fully aware at exactly how close he was to its grasp. He knew Phil wasn't any farther away from the same fate. And yet, Death seemed like one of those things that remained untouchable to Phil, allowing him to carelessly float through life with ease. He loved that about him, he loved that he didn't have to worry about the things that would cause him pain on the daily just as it does with Dan.

Dan would often spend what little time he had with Phil, and he wanted it to remain as such until one of them finally gives in to the afterlife. He knew, deep down, that even though they did everything together, the one thing they would have to do separately is attend each other's' funerals. He didn't like to think about that.

Now the question was how he decided to spend his time with his best friend. The results always varied, but there was one factor that always remained the same: it made them happy. Whether it be from watching an anime together during the morning or filming a video together during the afternoon or sitting across from each other in the lounge and browsing Tumblr together during the night, they're both happy.

It was moments like that when Dan was happy that helped him forget how unhappy he truly was. The one thing that would make him perfectly happy, indefinitely, without having to worry about a second thought was the one thing he couldn't have.

Dan reminded himself to write that down in his word document when he got the chance.

"Hey, Dan," Phil called out from the kitchen, his voice almost drowned out by the echoes of bellowing pots. "Could you lend me a hand with this?"

Another favourite pastime. Cooking and eating. And yet this one made him wonder, since they just had dinner not that long ago.

"Sure," Dan said in response, setting his laptop to the side and pushing himself off the sofa with a grunt. When he turned into the kitchen, he found Phil crouched down in front of the floor cabinets, rummaging around for something. He found a mixing bowl, setting it up on the counter above him and watched as he placed everything he took out of the cabinet and put it back in. After this, he stood and started to look through the drawer above it. "What are we making?"

"It's this new recipe I found for cupcakes. It's Delia Smith," Phil didn't look up, but he handed his flatmate a whisk without thinking. There was a pause, where he just stood there, holding out the whisk and where Dan was just staring at him through the utensil with an odd look. Phil shook his arm as a commanding gesture as he looked for other supplies in the drawer he might need, and the other still didn't take it from his hands, almost as if he was expecting something. He stopped and looked over, almost frustrated, his blue eyes meeting two chocolate chips on a face, "Dan, take the whisk." It was right then when he realised what he was doing, recognising the look on his face, then he just let out a soft and drawn-out "Oh."

The two of them shared a moment of laughter before Dan took the whisk from his hands, "yeah, 'oh.'" He chuckled, watching Phil return to the drawer and pull out a few more necessities. "What're the cupcakes for?"

"Some new neighbours moved in down the hall, and I wanted to give them a nice welcoming present."

There it was. Another reason to love Phil Lester.

Dan smiled, his eyes glossing over with a fondness that he couldn't help but show. Many of his fans have also noticed the looks he'd give to his best friend, and they've even given it a name. "Heart Eyes Howell."

"I'm sure they'll love it, Phil," he said. He watched as the raven-haired man dig out the rest of the utensils and ingredients he would need to make these cupcakes perfect to how the recipe had instructed. After it was all said and done, that's when they went to work, constantly checking the MacBook to make sure that they were following the instructions to the t. At one point, Dan handed a spoon over to Phil; but when he took it, Dan let his fingers linger on his best friend's hand gently, being as slow as he could with retracting them without coming across creepy.

The other didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Dan asked. Phil glanced over at his flatmate, humming slightly with a rising intonation to indicate he was listening. "What do you do when you have a crush on someone that's way out of your league?"

"Depends on the person," The Lester man shrugged, thinking for a moment, "If you're talking about a generic celebrity, I'd just accept that I have no chance with them and move on. Why?"

Dan shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said. He knew that Phil didn't mean it the way that it came out, nor did he know that it was a personal question to build up the courage to confess his feelings to his best friend. Either way, it shattered his hopes of ever having Phil love him back. The words replayed in his head over and over again, to the point to where he had to write them down that night on the document.

Accept that I have no chance with them and move on.

That night, Dan found himself unable to sleep. He stared blankly at the wall while lying on his side for what felt like hours, the only thing on his mind was how desperately he longed for Phil. He couldn't take it anymore. It was an urge that was all too powerful, and it overcame him with a quick glance.

Dan threw the covers off of him and hopped off his bed, making careful sure to be quiet with every step so that he won't cause the floorboards to creak. Slowly turning the doorknob, he walked into Phil's room, seeing him sound asleep, his back facing the door. He smiled slightly, his mind racing, and he gently sat at the end of the bed.

"I know you can't hear me," Dan said in a voice so quiet it would be a wonder if his best friend could hear what the boy was saying. "But there's something I need to get off my chest." He took a deep breath, then began to speak about the word document, about the contents within over the past seven years, and then he paused, looking back at the older man sleeping peacefully. He continued, his words growing hesitant and every breath growing shaky. At the end of his little spiel, he stood, glancing back at the other, before his mind made him do something he couldn't stop himself from doing.

He leant back down and kissed him. It reminded Dan of a fairy tale, where the prince would kiss the sleeping princess in her glass coffin, and she would wake up and live happily ever after. To these two, it felt like a happily ever after to only one, and he wasn't even awake to react to his prince charming. When they pulled away, all he could say was "God, damn," before he realised what happened.

Quickly, Dan shot up, shakily covering his mouth with his hand, whispering "I'm sorry," over and over again before dashing out of the room. When the door shut, there was a pause, then Phil opened his eyes, bringing his fingers to his lips.


It was particularly early in the year, specifically that time where the trees were having a heated debate over whether or not to grow blossoms or to remain bare, and they have chosen their sides.

Dan was the bare tree – gloomy, dark, and lifeless. He was one of those trees that sucked the tints out of everything, leaving everything behind in a grey and dull state. The world remain as colourless and frail, cold and left behind in a systematic period of time where the earth would no longer grow, and the people would drag on about their lives as if they had locked their minds away in a state of unhappiness, hoping for the day the sun would come. Oh, the influence these trees had. They were powerful alright, overpowering, even. It was like a simple snap at the wrist, and suddenly, all life and joy was gone. Even still, people learned to adapt live with these trees, walking along them like puppets, sitting atop the paleness and the snow, waiting for the day winter was done. And then it was done; and just as it was done the people would go on with their daily routine as if they had never had to sit amongst the sickly snow just below the bare Sycamore trees. Returning to their normal lives, as if nothing ever happened at all.

Phil was the tree flourishing with blossoms – playful, light, and lively. He had a particular sway about him when the wind would blow, as if it were a graceful dance that he never attempted to conjure up and produce. He was one of those trees that brought hope and joy to those around him, lighting up the world by reflecting rays from the sun, joined in by the delightful colours he'd radiate to the world with the faint shades of pink and white glows. It was like a ceremony when he arrived, granting the people their wish of no longer waiting for the day for the sun to come, because he came. What a remarkable impact these trees had. They were a gentle yet fierce giant, grabbing hold of the world and what it had and bringing it back to life, reviving all the colourless features back from the dead. People learned to anticipate these trees, excited for the vibrant colours and lush revival of live to return to their daily routine. And when they came, they too rose from the dead, running along the fields and dancing under the shade of the twigs blooming with its blossoms. It was like time had stopped, and the world had with it, just for a moment, then the moment was gone too soon; just like the cherry blossom trees it carried.

Dan saw his fair share of both of those trees when he walked the streets of London that night, each gust of wind tossing its own unique chill to the air, some of them swift enough to cut through his lungs. He had to be careful with each step, or else his drunken flatmate he was practically carrying would tumble them both onto the ground below. It was a challenge to escort a drunk even when one was sober, and so it became especially hard for Dan since he was already having some trouble himself from the few drinks he had.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for one of the duo to get drunk around the other, and they in fact had found out quite a lot about each other whenever they did get beyond tipsy. But nothing like how it was going to be. It was a little odd that Phil happened to have gotten so drunk so quickly, since they both had a fairly good alcohol tolerance, but he didn't question it. He had to just make sure they made it home safely.

"Phil, for fuck's sake, cooperate with me," Dan grimaced as he fumbled around with the keys to open their apartment door, and yet it seemed that his flatmate was leaning all his body weight onto the younger boy.

"But Danny," he whined, dragging out his "y" sound as he leaned onto the brunet. The alcohol was so potent in his breath that his best friend could almost taste it.

Dan managed to get the door opened, and they stepped in, shutting and locking it behind them when they passed the entrance clearing. "Remember to take your contact lenses off," he said in a stern and soft commanding voice, like a mother telling her child to put on their coat in the early fall.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved it off as he fumbled up the stairs, "Goodnight, Dan."

"Goodnight, Phil."

It had been fifteen minutes since then. Dan had been in that state of rest where he was drifting in and out of consciousness, his mind unable to fully shut down. He opened his eyes. Hell, I need some Nyquil, he thought. But before he could get up and get some, he saw light reflecting on the wall where his door was being opened. He quickly shut his eyes again and pretended that he was asleep.

He heard his flatmate shuffle into his room and sit on his bed, similarly to how he had done a few nights before. Dan's heart was racing and hammering so loudly against his chest he almost thought the older man could hear it; and he clutched onto his blanket so tightly to keep from shaking.

Phil didn't say anything, just grabbing the younger man by his shoulders and flipping him onto his back, only to plant his lips against his. Dan felt his heart flip, stunned by what was happening, and too afraid to speak or do anything else out of fear that his best friend was keeping his feelings closeted as well.

When they pulled apart, there was a brief moment of silence. Phil let out a shaky breath, then he chuckled slightly through his nose, "God, damn, is right." He knows! "But, unlike you, Dan Howell, I'm not sorry." He pecked his lips one last time and stood up and started to leave.

Dan knew he had to act fast right then, and he lunged forward, grabbing Phil by the wrist and yanking him down onto his bed. He wasn't completely on the bed when they practically devoured each other's lips, hungry for a release from all the years of built up sexual and romantic tension. Their kisses grew with intensity, their tongues battling for a dominance that neither of them could quite achieve.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this."

It was good. It was better than good. And yet, in the end they had just lied side by side, the quiet overtaking them both into unconsciousness.


Dan woke up that morning in an empty bed, a cold spot where someone else had been. He looked around, his mind wondering where his flatmate could have gone, and that's when his brain began to wander into the darkest corners of his psyche. His heart sank, and it felt like he had to force himself out of bed. He opened the door, and immediately smelt a strong aroma of coffee. It let him have just a little bit of relief to know that the other didn't just pack his things and leave.

He stepped out and into the kitchen, where Phil had been drinking from his mug, waiting for him like he would. When he arrived, he was greeted with a warm smile. "There you are," he said with a slight chuckle in his voice, "I was wondering if I was going to have to go into your room and just wake you up."

Does he even remember last night?

"Make yourself some breakfast, I've got the anime waiting," he said as he finished his coffee and placed it in the sink. Phil walked past his best friend, who had a million different thoughts racing through his head.

"Phil," Dan finally spoke. When he turned back around, he hummed slightly to indicate that he was listening. "About last night…"

"What about it?" He asked flatly, almost as if he wasn't even phased. He noticed is flatmate almost unable to form a coherent sentence, and he spoke up, "Look, if I have to say anything about it, I'd say it was one of the best nights of my life." He grinned, then he leaned forward, pecking his lips and walking off into the living room.

It was poetic irony, in a sick way, that they had waited so long only to come out by Dan being reckless with his actions. Go figure, right?

There was a moment, then Dan just smiled a little to himself, turning back into the kitchen as he tried to make himself a bowl of cereal, only to find that the last of it had been eaten. He just laughed, knowing full well what it meant.

After all this time, after everything he had written down, he can finally write one final thing before he gives it to his new lover. The last thing he wrote was a short letter that was sweet, yet to the point, since everything else he had written before had taken all the other things he wanted to say. He introduced it like how he always had, "My dearest Phil."

But now, he could finally add one more punctuation mark. It was subtle, but it was beautiful in the way it read, everything heartfelt and carefully strung together to show the best person in his life only the best writing.

"My dearest Phil," finally, with a comma after dearest.


I'm not good at writing fluff you guys I'm good at angst. xD But anyway! This IS my first attempt at fluff (granted there's little fluff in this looking back oops oh well), so constructive criticism is very much appreciated! Now, I'm going to go write a chapter of "Dead Aim Alchemist" before I continue on with this, since I will be alternating between chapters of both fanfictions. Don't worry, the wait won't be longer than a few weeks unless if something comes up. Once again, thank you guys so much for reading! I can't wait to get started on your prompts here soon!

-Elena