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There’s a rosy blush spread over Phil’s chest. It’s not very bright, but it’s noticeable all the same on Phil’s snowy complexion. He fixes his tired eyes on it, watches the shallow rise and fall of Phil’s breaths as the blush fades slowly back to white.
“You’re paler in person,” Dan mumbles.
They’ve been laying in silence for a couple minutes now and Dan’s still a little too giddy and dazed and awestruck to think properly about what comes out of his mouth. He also doesn’t really care, though. That’s what it’s like with Phil; he can say whatever pops into his head, no matter how stupid and if Phil doesn’t get it, then he at least wants to listen.
Usually he gets it, though.
Phil’s heart rate is back to normal, Dan can tell from where he’s got his head resting right over it. His own heart rate still feels a little too fast, but he’s pretty sure that’s as good as it’ll get for now. It’s been a little too fast all day, in the best way possible.
Phil huffs out a laugh. His fingers smooth gently through Dan’s hair, and then down onto his bare shoulder. “Weird thing to say to someone you just sucked off. Are you sending mixed signals on purpose?”
Phil’s voice is soft. Soft and deep and real, finally. It’s not his AmazingPhil voice, made a little higher and clearer and peppier for the camera’s sake. It’s not tinny and crackled, filtering through his shitty laptop speakers over Skype. It’s just real Phil, who ironically feels a little too good to be actually real.
He lifts his head, then, unable to stop the stupidly soft smile that spreads over his features the second his eyes meet Phil’s. He’s not embarrassed, though. If only because Phil’s expression looks pretty much the same.
“Yeah, exactly,” he settles down again, crossing his arms over Phil’s chest and resting his chin on top of them. “I’m trying to keep you on your toes. I can’t just give you compliments, then you’ll stop trying to woo me.”
“Um, skybar and ferris wheel is a good first date, Howell.”
Dan shuts him up with a soft press of his lips.
Tries to shut him up, anyway. Phil just keeps mumbling into his mouth. “Besides, shouldn’t you be trying to woo me back?”
“Yeah. That’s what the bj was for.”
Phil snorts and shoves lightly at his shoulder. Then promptly tugs him close again. Dan shifts to rest his cheek down on the pillow and draws the blue-and-green duvet up over his shoulders as Phil turns over too, their noses bumping together and their lips just inches apart.
“Right, of course,” Phil’s lips quirk into that crooked little half-smile, half-smirk that’s equal parts sexy and adorable that Dan’s already had the privilege of kissing many, many times. He already tastes dizzyingly familiar. “That was great. Consider me wooed.”
The natural sparkle of amusement in Phil’s blue eyes is another breathtaking reminder that he’s really here, solid and warm and alive and so is Dan. Dan is also alive.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Me too.”