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Phil’s hand rests on Dan’s lower back, his fingers splayed out against soft skin that still hints at the beginnings of the tan he’d picked up in Australia. Dan’s back slopes down in a smooth curve to his head, to where the side of his face is pressed into the pillow.
“Harder,” he grunts. He has no patience for the slow, gentle rolling of Phil’s hips.
Phil knows this. He knows because it’s the same every time. He wants to make it last, wants to slide in and out and feel Dan tight around him, and Dan lets him for a while.
But eventually Dan bores of that and wants to be fucked properly. So Phil fucks him. He grabs Dan’s hips and pulls him back to meet each thrust, the slap of their skin getting louder and louder along with Dan’s pitchy little moans.
There’s no universe where Phil doesn’t find this sexy, where it isn’t incredibly fun and where he won’t fill the condom up with an obscene amount of come. He’s not complaining.
He’s not.
Dan’s wanking himself with speed and purpose, telling Phil exactly how fast to go and what angle is best to hit the spot Dan needs him to hit.
He tells Phil before he’s about to come and then blows his load all over the towel they’ve laid down beneath them. Phil keeps going, lets the visual of Dan’s ass jiggling with every hard thrust and his vaguely pained noises push him over the edge.
He pulls out slowly, always slowly and carefully and pulls the spent condom off before his dick gets soft and makes a mess. He ties it off and tosses it in the bin when he gets to the toilet to wash up.
“I’m thirsty,” Dan shouts from the bed. He’s probably already used the towel to wipe himself up and dumped it on the floor. He’s gross like that, but he’ll be the one to clean it up in the morning so Phil can’t really whinge too much.
“Water or Ribena?” Phil calls back as he turns on the faucet in the bathtub and rinses the remains of lube and jizz from his cock.
“Water please.”
Phil fetches them each a glass of water from the kitchen. He’s still stark naked and a little cold, which still feels strange to him. It’d still been a bit cold when they’d started the tour, and now they’re back and it’s cold again. It’s almost like summer in London didn’t happen this year.
But of course it did. He just didn’t get to be a part of it. It makes sense, it’s just also… weird.
He hands Dan his water and slides under the covers next to him to chug his own down quickly. Did sex always tire him out this thoroughly?
Dan’s on his laptop already, looking at something on Reddit. He doesn’t even turn to Phil when he says, “What’re we doing tomorrow?”
“Meeting with Martyn,” Phil says, putting his empty glass on the nightstand and flicking off the light. “Early. You should put that away.”
Dan sighs, but he shuts it and slides it under the bed. “Being an adult is bullshit, I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Me neither,” Phil says, a smile ghosting his lips as he leans in and pecks Dan on the side of his mouth. “Goodnight.”
“Mm.”
“You gonna sleep?” Phil asks, by which he means ‘will you be able to sleep tonight,’ but he knows Dan knows what he means.
“Mhm. M’tired.”
“Me too,” Phil says. “You wear me out.”
“I barely did anything,” Dan argues.
Anxiety spikes in Phil’s gut, the kind that persists even after nearly a decade of reassurance that he gives Dan what he needs when they’re in the throes together. “Was it not…?”
Dan shakes his head. “It was great. Just saying, you did all the work.”
“You can do the work next time,” Phil offers and Dan laughs.
“How generous.”
“It’s been a while,” Phil says.
“Yeah. I don’t mind though. Do you?” Dan asks.
Phil shrugs noncommittally. Dan’s eyes are already closed. He’s probably not even waiting for an answer.
Phil lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling, listening to Dan breathe. Their bodies aren’t touching and Dan doesn’t reach out to rectify that.
“Dan,” Phil says softly.
“Mm?”
“Remember that time you wanked me on the plane to Portugal?”
Dan splutters out a laugh. “Uhh, yeah. Of course I do. What—”
“That was hot,” Phil interrupts. “Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Definitely.”
“It was so… spontaneous,” Phil says absentmindedly. “We were so different back then.”
“Phil I was eighteen. Of course I was different.”
“Yeah, right,” Phil says. “I guess.”
“Why’re you weird?” Dan asks, propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at Phil with a cute little frown furrowing his brow.
“M’not,” Phil mumbles. “I just…” He trails off, not actually sure he wants to have this conversation.
Dan waits a while before he asks, “Just what?”
“Nothing,” Phil says, craning his neck up to kiss Dan a little more firmly than before. “Maybe I am weird after all, but I’m just tired.”
“Sure?” Dan asks incredulously.
“Mhm.” Phil reaches out and pulls Dan towards him rather roughly. Dan giggles and lets himself be pulled, nuzzling his head up under Phil’s chin.
It’s the first time in weeks Dan falls asleep first.
-
Phil wakes up first. He lets Dan sleep in the extra fifteen minutes it takes Phil to shower and brush his teeth. He shouts at Dan to wake up as he rifles through his drawers for something to wear, wrapped up in all the clean towels they have left.
Dan moans and groans but climbs out of bed in time to see Phil drop the towels to step into his pants.
He waits for some kind of comment that never comes. Instead Dan squawks, “Phi-il. Did you not even leave me one towel, seriously?”
Something inside Phil’s chest sinks. He can’t remember when his naked body started being something so common place that Dan completely ignored it.
“Sorry,” Phil says, not a hint of humour in his tone and Dan seems to notice.
“What’s up with you?” he asks. “You’re still weird.”
“No I’m not. I’m… I couldn’t sleep last night. I reckon I’m still tired.”
Dan frowns, but says no more, snatching up one of Phil’s damp discarded towels and heading for the bathroom.
-
“We’re getting coffee out,” Phil announces when Dan finally makes his entrance into the kitchen. His hair is damp and curling adorably, his eyes still holding a hint of sleepiness that makes him look just… just so bloody young. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing the fuzzy black jumper and his nails are painted in a soft white shimmer. He looks good and fresh faced and fucking youthful and Phil can practically feel the lines in his own face taunting him.
Lines that weren’t there when Dan threw his arms around him in a train station all those years ago.
“Are we now?” Dan says, opening the fridge and rooting around a little before accepting that it’s empty and closing it up again.
“Yes,” Phil says matter-of-factly. “We’re going to Starbucks and I’m getting a PSL and you’re not going to take the piss.”
“Not even a little?” Dan teases.
“No. I’m going to drink it and remember a time when you didn’t mock me for my festive corporate coffee preferences.”
Dan frowns again. Phil doesn’t like that he’s making Dan frown so much but he just feels strange and twisty inside and he’s not even sure why. He hops off his chair and heads for the front door to put on his shoes.
-
“Remember that time we fucked on the beach in Jamaica in the middle of the night?” Phil asks as he stares out the half-fogged window, watches the people with their umbrellas whizzing by, the blur of other cars and wet pavement.
“Jesus, Phil,” Dan mutters under his breath, eyes darting toward the front of the car to make sure their driver hasn’t heard. “What—”
“Sorry,” Phil murmurs, dragging his finger through the condensation on the glass. “Just thinking.”
“About spontaneity,” Dan says.
“I guess. Maybe. I dunno.”
“About how… we’re not spontaneous anymore?” Dan asks, voice pitching up nervously at the end.
Phil turns his head and looks at him. He’s so beautiful. Every year he just gets more beautiful.
Dan reaches out and runs his fingers through Phil’s hair. “Your quiff is drooping,” he murmurs.
“I’m tired,” is all he can think to respond with.
He is. He feels about a thousand years old today. The novelty of being home has worn off and now it’s as if he can feel every single night he spent trying desperately and still failing to sleep on the bus, every long flight they’d taken, every day he’d spent arranging his face into a smile for endless photos in endless different cities at endless different meet and greets.
He feels it now even more than he did then, like the effects of all that were delayed, the adrenaline of touring enough to postpone the jet lag of traveling the world in so short a span of time.
He leans his temple against the cool of the window. Dan reaches over and slides his hand into Phil’s and they spend the rest of the ride in a lovely kind of quiet.
-
“Pizza?” Phil asks once they’re home and collapsed into the sofa.
Dan is flipping through Netflix trying to find something to watch. “Mm, nah. Maybe something new.”
“New?”
“Yeah. Something we’ve never had before.” Dan keeps his eyes on the telly.
Something swells in Phil’s chest, something warm and grateful. “I don’t know if there’s a single place in London we haven’t ordered from at this point.”
“What abouuuttt… sushi,” Dan suggests.
“That’s not really new.”
“No, but it’s tasty and it’s been a while. Plus I’m still convinced you want me to eat some off your dick,” Dan says, finally turning his head in Dan’s direction.
Phil works hard to contain his smirk. “Maybe I wanna eat it off your dick.”
“I’m up for it.”
“Great,” Phil says, a smile breaking free. “I’ll make sure there’s extra wasabi.”
-
No one eats sushi off anyone else’s dick, but the food is delicious and Dan gives Phil a blowjob right there on the sofa afterwards.
Phil hadn’t been expecting that. Dan didn’t give any indication it was coming either, just got down on his knees and pulled off Phil’s jeans and pants.
Phil’s fingers are buried in Dan’s curls when he comes, panting and whimpering as Dan strokes him through it and swallows down what Phil empties into his mouth.
Dan’s so good at that. Phil kisses him when he climbs back up, tasting himself and pretending he doesn’t care. He’s just feeling very in love tonight.
-
Dan holds him as soon as they climb into bed, practically curls around him like a koala. “Phil?” he asks.
“Yeah?”
“We’re ok, yeah?”
Phil squeezes a little tighter. “Of course.”
“You’re not bored?” Dan asks.
“No. I thought maybe… thought maybe you were.”
“Why?”
Phil sighs. “I dunno. Because we always fuck in the same position and only when we plan it first and you don’t get excited when you see me naked in the morning and my hair’s going grey and we argue over whose turn it is to take the rubbish out to the bins.”
“Oh,” Dan says quietly.
“It’s fine. I dunno. Ignore me. I guess… I feel old. And you don’t look old like I do, you still look so good. Bartenders think I’m your dad.”
“You still look good,” Dan says, sliding his hand up Phil’s chest to play with the hair there, the hair that gets thicker with each passing year. “I like your grey hair. I like that you kinda look like a dad.”
“I’m being serious,” Phil says, trying to push Dan’s hand away. “I’m not asking you to make daddy jokes.”
“I’m not, Phil. I’m being serious. You look good. You look fucking hot. You always have, but… I like how you look now. It suits you.”
“Shut up,” Phil mumbles. “You still look like a teenager and I look like an old man.”
“I do not and you do not,” Dan argues. “You’re full of shit.”
“Your mum’s full of shit,” Phil retorts.
“You know she’s not,” Dan says without missing a beat. “She eats a ton of fiber.”
“You’re vile.”
“Yes, maybe. But you started it,” Dan says, tipping his head back to nip at Phil’s neck. “You know why we always plan when we’re gonna fuck?”
“Why?” Phil says grudgingly.
“So I can shower first so you can eat me out,” Dan says.
“Oh.”
“And we do it in the same position because that’s the position that feels best for both of us.”
Phil suddenly feels incredibly stupid. “Yeah,” he mumbles.
“I love your body, naked or not,” Dan says. “I’m not gonna make us late for a meeting with your brother by acting like a teenager who can’t control his urges.”
“Ok, ok, I get it,” Phil says, clapping his hand over Dan’s mouth. “I’m an idiot, you’re a genius.”
Dan licks over Phil’s palm and Phil shrieks. He tries to push Dan away but Dan just laughs and pulls Phil in closer, pressing his smiling mouth to Phil’s until Phil relaxes and kisses back.
They kiss like they haven’t in ages, like they did in the early days when their time together was limited and kissing still felt new and intoxicating.
Perhaps they’ve come full circle or something, because that’s how it feels again now as Dan licks into Phil’s mouth with enthusiasm. Phil slides his hand into Dan’s pajamas and wraps his fingers around Dan’s cock.
It’s hard. Phil doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is, in the best way. He strokes and twists and chases Dan’s moans with his lips and his tongue, not stopping until his hand is warm and wet and Dan’s nails are dug painfully into Phil’s back.
“I love you,” Phil says, as they finally come apart, but only long enough for Dan to shuck off his bottoms and clean himself up with them.
They turn on their sides to face each other, their legs all tangled together under the soft heather grey of their sheets.
“What’s the happiest you’ve ever been in your life?” Dan asks.
“Now,” Phil says.
Dan shoves him in the shoulder. “No, really.”
Phil doesn’t need to take long to come up with the real answer. “Tokyo.”
Dan smiles. “Me too, I think.”
“But I like this too,” Phil whispers.
Dan answers by snuggling in. Phil’s not sure who falls asleep first.
-
It’s only a few days later when Dan practically jumps into Phil’s lap on the sofa and hands him the tickets.
Phil stares down at them stunned, convinced it’s just a rather cruel practical joke. “What are— what is this?”
“It’s spontaneity,” Dan replies.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
Phil just stares at him. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” Dan asks. “Don’t you want to?”
“Of course I do, I just… it’s so soon.”
“Yeah,” Dan says. “That’s kind of the point.”
“What about spooky week?” Phil asks.
“We’ll be back in time. Unless you wanna stay longer, in which case we can film in the hotel. Or just say fuck it. I think we’ve earned a holiday, don’t you?”
Phil’s stomach is fluttering with nerves and excitement, even as his words are trying to convince Dan it’s impossible. “I thought Australia was our holiday,” he says weakly.
“It was nice, but your brother was there,” Dan says. “I heard him and Cornelia having sex one night.”
“You did not,” Phil says, horrified.
“I did. You were asleep. You always sleep so heavy.”
Phil snorts. “Well thank god for that.”
“Phil. We’re going, ok? We’re going.”
Phil smiles and covers his hands with his face. It’s really real, they’re really going back. “I can’t believe you did this for me,” he mumbles against his fingers.
“You did it for me last time,” Dan says softly, pulling Phil’s hands from his face. “Besides, I did it for us. We deserve it. I deserve to feel happy and you deserve something spontaneous.”
“I want you to be happy,” Phil says. “I don’t give a toss about being spontaneous. I just get scared sometimes you’ll wake up and realize I’m not the person I was when you first met me.”
“Well, I’m not either. And thank fucking god I’m not.” He takes the tickets from Phil’s hand and places them carefully on the coffee table. “I don’t want that Phil anyway. That Phil didn’t know how to find my g spot.”
“Dan!”
Dan presses his finger to Phil’s lips. “That Phil didn’t know how to handle me on my bad days.”
Phil softens instantly, putting his hand on Dan’s knee and squeezing.
“That Phil was a baby. I like my Phil salt and pepper and taking out the trash and like, paying our taxes and shit.”
Phil laughs. “Please shut up.”
-
This time around, there’s only one bed and Phil doesn’t spray himself with toilet water. They eat fish for breakfast and go back to the Ghibli museum and buy loads more useless shit that’ll clutter up their flat when really they’re supposed to be downsizing.
They have sex every night, always showering first, always ending with Dan on his knees and Phil behind him, holding Dan’s hips and doing exactly what he tells him.
It’s wonderfully predictable sex that produces predictably wonderful orgasms for the both of them.
Phil still has some hair graying at his temples and Dan still has a face that doesn’t quite match his age and Phil might never stop feeling insecure about that, but maybe that’s ok because Dan will never stop being the kind of partner who reassures him with every breath that he’s exactly where he wants to be.