Chapter Text
It had been years since everyone found out he was gay. His so-called best friend had found his journal and suddenly everyone knew. School became hell. Beatings and name-calling and loneliness. Home was somehow worse. He didn’t get beaten up, no one called him names or threatened him there. It was just him, his mum and his brother, and his mum just ignored him. Worse than that, she relied on him, to keep it together when she didnt. Dan wished he could go back to just being a kid again. He was 17 and things were only getting worse.
Dan’s bus rides were spent pretending to ignore the sharp words that seemed to follow him wherever he went. His lunchtimes were spent alone, except for the days when certain assholes decided to spend their time tormenting him. One particular Friday, a group of boys caught him alone, and honestly, Dan blacked out most of what happened.
Dan ran as soon as the larger boy let go of his wrist. He didn’t even know where he was going, and he could barely see from the blood on his face, after the beating he had just received. He darted down the corridor, shouts of “faggot” and “fucking queer” becoming quieter as he ran. Once he was out of sight of the group, he took a second to breathe and turned left down a different corridor, headed for the bathroom.
Still worked up and shaking, Dan opened the bathroom door a little too quickly, and was met with some resistance as the door smacked into something solid. There was a thud as something hit the ground, and Dan looked down in horror as he realised it was a person.
“FUCK,” said the mess of colours sprawled at Dan’s feet.
“Fuck, sorry, are you okay?” Dan reached down and pulled the boy to his feet carefully. His racing heartbeat impossibly faster when the stranger caught his eyes and smiled. Dan couldn’t help but just stare at him for a minute. Kind blue eyes looked back at him, from behind a mess of straight black hair. The boy was only slightly shorter than him, and Dan noticed how awkwardly he moved like he wasn’t used to being so tall. A slightly crooked mischievous smile, that soon became a nervous laugh. Dan realised he was still holding the boy’s hand. He let go and dropped his gaze.
“Sorry.” Dan blushed.
“You said that already. I’m fine, just caught me off guard.” The dark-haired boy laughed, then looked at Dan, seemingly only just realising the state he was in. “Fuck, are YOU okay? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Dan smiled, bitterly. “Yeah, a truck called Brandon Peters.” He wandered over to the mirror, fixing his hair before taking his backpack from his shoulder and rooting around in it.
“I haven’t really met anyone here yet, but he sounds like a dick.” The boy smiled sympathetically at Dan.
“He wasn’t always,” Dan said quietly and the dark-haired boy could tell there was a story there. He didn’t push, though, just smiled kindly at Dan in the mirror. Dan fished a small bag out of his backpack and opened it to reveal wipes, plasters, tweezers and soothing cream.
Jesus, thought the stranger, this guy gets beat up so much he carries a first aid kit?
Dan whimpered as he started cleaning up the blood from where his lip had split. Somehow it had ended up all over him, including around the eye that was already turning purple. The boy visibly flinched at the sound.
“Here, let me.” He said, stepping forward and reaching out for the wipe.
Dan glanced at him reproachfully, but after a second, he shrugged and handed the boy the wipe in his hand. The touch was gentle, and could actually see what he was doing, so it hurt a lot less to have his help.
Dan fixed his eyes to look into the stranger’s hoping he was too preoccupied to notice. Something about those blue eyes made him feel calm, made him forget about everything else.
“Stop looking at me like that.” The stranger laughed, and Dan averted his gaze, apologizing. He became very aware of how close they were standing, so close that he could feel the other’s breath.
“No, I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just funny. You’re funny.” The blue-eyed boy grinned.
Dan wasn’t used to someone being so nice to him.
When his face was clean of blood, Dan picked up the cream from the counter. The other immediately took it from him, peering at the tube sceptically.
“You sure about this, it hurts like hell.” He said, frowning.
Dan nodded. “It takes down the swelling and I’d rather not look like this all week.”
The stranger smiled at him understandingly and nodded. He pulled Dan’s hand up and held it in front of him, squirting some cream onto the back of his hand and using it as a palette. He let go of Dan’s hand and used both hands to gently rub the cream onto the swelling.
“Does talking hurt?”
Dan shook his head.
“Talk to me.” Stranger said. “It’ll distract you.”
“About what?” Dan asked.
“Anything, I don’t even know your name.”
“Daniel.” Dan didn’t know why he used his full name. “Dan, I mean.”
“Nice to meet you, Daniel, I’m Phil.” Phil’s mock formality made Dan giggle, an action he immediately regretted when it was met with pain. Dan made a face.
“Sorry,” both boys said in unison. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other for a moment.
“I’m new here by the way,” Phil said quietly, trying to continue the conversation.
“I figured,” Dan replied. “What are you studying?”
“Media, English language, and graphic design. What about you?”
“Law, English language, geography.”
“Law?” Phil asked, a tad surprised.
“I hate it. I thought it would make my family happy, but it just makes me miserable.”
Phil cupped his hand on Dan’s cheek and moved his face around slightly, inspecting it.
“Done. You can wash the cream off your hand.” He let go of Dan’s face and turned to rinse his hands under the sink. “You should do what makes YOU happy.”
Dan almost scoffed at the idea of him being happy, but something about today gave him the idea it was a possibility.
The bell signalling the end of lunch break rang out, and Dan hurried to collect together his stuff.
He turned to leave, but Phil caught his sleeve.
“Wait, take this off.” Dan realised he meant the sweater he was wearing, which was spattered with red. He shook his head, sadly.
“You have something underneath, no?” Phil was frowning at him, confused. It was May anyway, it wasn’t like it was cold.
“Phil, I can’t take it off.”
“Why?”
“Cause the t-shirt I’m wearing has short sleeves,” Dan mumbled quietly. He blinked at Phil, surprised by how much he trusted this stranger. It took Phil a minute to realise what he meant.
“Oh. Did someone…” Phil asked carefully.
Dan shook his head. “I just… had a really rough night a few weeks ago.”
Phil looked at him sadly but didn’t move away. He didn’t seem disgusted or shocked. He just seemed sad. Dan watched as Phil rifled through his bag and pulled out a blue hoodie He threw it at Dan, who smiled gratefully.
“You sure? You really don’t have to.”
“It’s fine. Keep it.” Phil turned his back from Dan, to let him switch jumpers in private.
“Thanks,” Dan said when he had done, and Phil swivelled back to face him.
“You’re welcome. I mean, I didn’t do it for free.”
Dan immediately froze, scared at what Phil would ask of him. Phil watched him go pale and laughed slightly.
“Calm down, Danny, I only mean… You owe me lunch.”
“Lunch?” Dan’s expression shifted to confusion.
“Yeah, patching you up meant I didn’t have time to eat.” Phil smiled warmly.
Dan reached into his bag and brought out his wallet, a gesture that was met with a melodic laugh.
“No, you spoon, I mean lunch with you.” Phil blushed.
“Oh.” Dan hesitated. “Are you sure? Most people don’t want to be seen with me.”
“I’m sure. Here, give me your phone.” Dan handed over his phone, and Phil used it to send himself a text. “Message me later. I’ve got to go. It’s my first day, and I’m already late.”
Phil ran out of the bathroom, leaving Dan staring at the door in shock. What had just happened?
He looked down at his phone. It was open to a text conversation with “Phil 😉”.
Phil had sent himself the message
Hey :p
Dan looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his fringe so that it hid his black eye as best as possible. He looked at the blue hoodie he was wearing and snuggled into the warmth of it. After a second he realised he was late for class and left the bathroom, cursing under his breath.