A/N: I REALLY WANT FLUFF SO WE'RE SKIPPING A COUPLE MONTHS, OKAY? I WAS READY FOR DAN TO GET OUT OF THE PLASTER, AND SO WAS HE. YOU WERE, TOO, I'M BETTING. SO HERE WE ARE. THIS IS FLUFF IN ITS PUREST FORM (MAYBE), SO ENJOY THE FEELS AND LEAVE A REVIEW.
Seriously, guys. This is literally just fluff. You could skip this chapter and not miss anything in the plot. But you won't do that, because nobody can resist fluffy fluff fluuuuuufffffffff. So yeah. I hope you like reading it, because I sure had fun writing it.
Chapter Seven: Dan
21-11-15
If you looked closely, we'd been building up to this moment for a while. I'm not saying the fangirls were right, but maybe they weren't entirely wrong. Phil and I had spent a lot of time laughing together at their desperate analyses of our expressions and 'accidental' touches, but I mean, I'd be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind. When it's shoved down your throat on every social platform, you think about it, even if you don't want to.
Maybe I was too busy having an existential crisis to realize that I had no interest in dating, or maybe I did realize it and just decided it was because I was too busy. I could have made time for someone if I really wanted to, but I didn't. And it was never a thing that made me feel sad, even when my inboxes filled up with offers. I'd just click through, show Phil, we'd laugh, and then I'd send the unanswered messages to the recycle bin. Phil did the same with his, and eventually I started to see how similar our choices were becoming.
Thwack!
I heard Phil laughing as I leapt forward, slapping my hands over my back. I'd just opened the front door and was turned away so I could lock us out when I'd felt the icy smack. A smile crept across my face as I turned back to catch him bent over with his hands in the snow, preparing another attack. My hands brushed over my backside again as I walked over to him and kicked the newly formed snowball out of his hands. He let out a gasp and raised his head, mock offense plastered on his features. It wasn't very convincing, as his lips curled up in a smile almost immediately and he stood up with another handful of snow.
"Snow in November," he said, not for the first time. He'd woken up before me this morning, and as soon as he laid eyes on the window, he'd practically dragged me out of the bed with the excitement of a child on Christmas Day. I couldn't blame him; it never snowed around this time. We hadn't had a white holiday in London in decades. It was also pretty endearing to see him so excited about something so simple, but who wouldn't be swayed by the way his eyes were crinkling in the corners and the way his tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he smiled at the sight of the snowflakes starting to fall again. They quickly settled in his hair, and I laughed again.
"It never snows before Christmas," Phil continued, a look of wonder still etched on his face. His eyes shifted around a bit, watching the snow fall, and then they fell on my face. I felt the blood rushing in my cheeks under his gaze, but I didn't look away. He was still smiling widely. I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me, and he let out a tiny squeal when I pressed my lips to his. His hand slid across my shoulder to grip the side of my neck, and my other arm wound itself through his arms so that I held him in a tight hug.
A few seconds in, I felt his tongue brushing over my lower lip, and I smiled into the kiss, allowing him entrance. As our tongues slid across each other, his fingers danced across the skin of my back. I wondered, briefly, how he'd managed to get his hand under my shirt, but that was short-lived as I suddenly lost my balance and fell backwards, pulling him with me. He landed on top of me in the snow, faces just centimeters apart. It only took me a beat to figure out what had happened- I'd hitched my good leg up to wrap around his thighs, and put all my weight on the fragile barely-healed ankle. He gave me a questioning look, to which I replied with, "Whoops." I burst out laughing.
He stared at me for a second before he lost it, and then we were shaking each other with our giggles.
"We're going to be late," he said softly after a moment, eyes boring into mine. I felt my heart speed up at the intensity of it, but he never seemed to notice what he did just by looking at me. If he did know, I was sure he'd do it more often just to see my reaction. He leaned down to kiss me softly before jumping up with an outstretched hand. Once I was standing, he took to brushing me off. My mind reeled as he slapped the snow from my back, and my breath suddenly hitched in my throat when his palm touched the bare skin of my side and slid forward to rub gently at my stomach. I felt a burst of cold air and glanced down to see that my shirt had pulled up to reveal midriff. When he took his hands away a few seconds later, I had to bite my lip to hold in the sigh. He took a step away and of course, caught my expression. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure," I assured him. "Just forgot how to breathe for a second there." I reached out and took his hand before he could ask if I was joking or not, saying, "Where are we meeting them again?"
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It'd been forever since we'd seen Chris and PJ. They'd asked us a couple times to collaborate, but it wasn't possible with all the time we'd spent working on the book, and then dealing with its release over the past month. It was exciting, but I was ready to sleep for ten years. And, of course, adding my injuries to the mix just gave us (mostly Phil) more to worry about. I was hoping he'd calm down a bit now that I could walk without any help again.
The door to their flat was open a crack. We knew they were expecting us, so we didn't bother knocking. There wouldn't be any filming today, but of course there was still camera equipment strewn all over the place. It was almost worse than ours.
"Hello?" Phil called out, stepping over a large studio light. He kept a firm grip on my hand, but I couldn't complain about that, especially when he twisted his fingers so they were intertwined with mine. We made our way through the apartment slowly, and we were just about to turn the corner into the lounge when Phil stopped suddenly enough that I bumped into him.
"The Hell?" I whispered automatically. Phil's free hand came back to grab my wrist and tow me forward silently. I threw a hand over my mouth when I saw what he'd stopped for. Chris and PJ were on their sofa, Chris straddling PJ, and Chris had one hand stuck under the waistband of PJ's unzipped jeans. I took an involuntary step forward just as PJ lifted his head to smash their lips together, and then Phil cleared his throat loudly.
"Hey guys," He announced from around the corner, apparently deciding to act as if we hadn't just caught them about to go down on each other. He waited a second, then walked into their view, and I followed, mostly because I was still holding onto Phil's hand. As soon as Phil had opened his mouth, PJ had shoved Chris away, and I tried not to laugh at their red faces and tousled hair. I pretended not to notice that PJ hadn't fixed his pants.
"Hey Phil," Chris greeted. "How's your ankle, Dan?"He sounded breathless and was practically panting. It was almost too funny.
"Almost back to normal," I told him, pulling my hand free away. I bent over slightly to tug my jeans up, showing off the ace bandage. "This little bugger is all I have to deal with now." I smoothed my pants back down and walked over to the sofa, stifling another giggle as I stepped over PJ's outstretched legs. Once I was sitting, I looked over to him and said, "You know your pants are unzipped, right?"
"Damn it," he almost growled, moving his hands to fix it. His cheeks reddened further when Chris threw an arm over his shoulders and started laughing. "How much did you guys see?"
"Just enough to get us going," I assured him with a smirk. I reached over and patted his shoulder. "You didn't have to stop on our account."
"Dan!" Phil snapped, squinting his eyes at me. "Please behave."
I placed my hands on my lap. "That's no fun." He thought about that as he shrugged out of his coat, and then he came over to me, plopping down on my legs sideways, and pressed a quick kiss to my temple.
"Um, excuse me," Chris piped up, gesturing a hand between us, "but since when are you two so friendly?" I had to laugh then, because I'd forgotten that we hadn't told them yet. It wasn't like we didn't trust them or anything. I mean, if I could trust Zoe with this knowledge, then I could surely trust them. I shared a glance with Phil, and then we both looked back at Chris. To my surprise, though, the next question came from PJ.
"Phan is real?"
"Phan is real," Phil confirmed, smiling widely. "As of…when was it? August…eighth, ninth? Something like that." He looked down at me for a beat, then said, "He had one of those ginormous plasters on his ankle, and he tripped in the kitchen."
"Accidentally kissed him," I finished, thoroughly enjoying their shocked expressions. I almost wanted to know if they'd been waiting for this to happen as well. "And that's that."
"It's about damn time," Chris said, confirming my suspicions. "How'd the fans take it?" My face fell at that. We still hadn't told anyone outside the close circle of friends and family, and I was planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible. I could tell by his reaction that he didn't need me to say it out loud. "I'm glad I asked. I'd hate to be the one to mess that up."
"They don't need to know," I insisted. "They've got enough theories without my help or Phil's, and I don't want them to constantly be asking us to kiss or do cute things on camera. That's not what I signed up for when I became a YouTuber."
"I get it, Dan," Chris assured with a nod. "We're kind of in the same boat, you know." Oh, right. I'd forgotten that Chris and PJ were also secretly dating. It wasn't quite the same, but I kept that thought to myself.
"Anyway," PJ cut in, leaning over Chris, "We'd better get going or we'll be late." All three of us looked to him in confusion, but he just grinned and held up four ticket stubs.
"Oh my God, you actually got them," I said excitedly, reaching a hand out to take one.
"Let's go," Chris instructed, jumping up. He pulled PJ with him, and then Phil did the same with me. He leaned in super close and pressed his lips to my ear to ask if I needed a painkiller before we left, but I shook my head. One glance at Chris told me he'd heard Phil, but that was okay. I wasn't entirely sure why it had to be a secret in the first place. Phil moved his lips, touching them once to my cheek and then to my own lips, all while the other two boys watched with increasingly idiotic grins. God, they were just as bad as Zoe and Louise.
I'd have to get used to that, I supposed.
A/N: How'd you like that? There's more where that came from. Go back and re-read it while you wait.
