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Dan bites his lip, nervously digging his teeth into it. This is the first gig he’s going to, and as if that isn’t enough, he gets to meet the band, Against Elision, too. He’d pre-ordered their upcoming album the day he could, almost jumping up and down when he saw his order had been accepted. He really did start jumping when he’d gotten an email a few days later, stating that by pre-ordering the album he’d won a meet-and-greet with the band.
Him, and 50 teenage girls.
His fingers fiddle with his pink sweater, pinching the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He feels out of place in the line, being surrounded by teenagers who are wearing only black or had their tummy’s on show. Dan has always been more of a pastel guy, preferring blouses and flower crowns over the stereotypical post-hardcore-emo style most of the Against Elision fans have.
It isn’t that he has anything against it, all the punk hairstyles and tattoos are really cool, especially when the right person has them. That’s what has gotten him into Against Elision in the first place; Phil Lester, the lead singer. Not only does he have piercing blue eyes, but he has the most intricate and beautiful tattoos Dan has ever seen. Plus, Phil looks hot with a beanie.
So okay, maybe that’s a bit shallow of him, but he actually really enjoys their music as well. Phil’s deep voice really blends with the riffs of the guitar and the drummer is always on point. His favourite member, besides Phil, is the drummer, who always has Dan jamming out to their music, making his flower crown fall off his head multiple times.
“Have you seen that guy?” someone behind him suddenly whispers. “What do you think he’s doing here? He looks like a fucking pushover.”
Dan sighs. He gets enough of this shit at school, and he thought that maybe - just maybe - people here would actually like him. Wearing pastel colours makes him too girly to listen to this genre, apparently.
His eyes drift over to the white tent he is standing next to, almost seeing Against Elision. His heart is racing, seemingly trying to fight its way out of his rib cage. He brings his hands up to his face, laying them against his burning cheeks and breathing out slowly, trying to calm himself. He doesn’t want to be another screaming fangirl.
“Next!” a voice booms through the room, shaking Dan out of his stupor. It’s his turn. He is going to meet Against Elision, he is going to see them and talk to them and hug them and forget what he said about not being a fangirl.
He pushes against the white plastic with his hand, slowly uncovering the entrance. Oh my god, he sees Phil, just standing there like it was nobody’s business, like it’s the most normal thing in the entire world which it isn’t because it’s Phil, the same Phil Dan has been gushing about - and crushing on, if Dan would just admit it to himself - for fucking months and Dan isn’t worthy of being here oh god.
He retreats his hand, backing away from the tent a bit. The girls behind him giggle, amused at his anxiety. They are right, he is a pushover. He shouldn’t have come here in the first place. What had he been thinking, he’s ruined everything now.
The white plastic is promptly pushed away by someone on the inside, and blue eyes were staring welcomingly at him.
“Hey, don’t be shy,” Phil says comfortingly. “I promise we won’t bite.”
Dan blushes, hiding his hands in his sleeves and bringing them up to cover his cheeks. Phil Lester is talking to him, the actual Phil Lester. He almost wants to drop to his knees and say ‘I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy.’
Phil holds the fabric to the side invitingly, stepping away a bit to make an opening for Dan to step through. Dan’s hands are shaking against his cheeks, still not believing what he’s seeing, because oh my god Phil.
“Come on,” Phil jokes. “You do know how to walk right?”
Dan looks at Phil again, seeing the phoenix tattoo on his neck that Dan has been studying religiously for the last few months. He nods quickly, his mouth becoming dry. He takes a few tentative steps forward, walking past Phil into the tent.
“There you are,” Gabe, the drummer, beams. “We were beginning to think everyone had gone home or something.”
“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. “I’m just really shy.”
“Yeah, we can tell,” Phil booms from behind him, standing so close to Dan that Dan hears Phil’s baritone rumbling in his chest. He nearly forgot Phil is behind him in the daze of oh my god I’m standing in the same vicinity as my favourite band. “Don’t worry though, it’s kind of cute.”
Dan’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, and he covers them with his hands, his fingers touching his dimples. He isn’t cute, not at all. He doesn’t think so at least. But he considers being cute for Phil Lester won’t be so bad becausejesus my idol called me cute.
“I’m not cute,” Dan mutters, looking though the spaces between his fingers. Phil grins, reaching up to grab Dan’s flower crown.
“Well if you’re not cute, your flower crown certainly is,” Phil jokes. Dan wishes he’d just sink through the floor because his favourite singer should not be complimenting him in front of the entire band while they watch them interact with amusement and curiosity in their eyes.
“Phil, leave the kid alone. Can’t you see he’s dying of embarrassment?” Gabe reprimands. His grin and the glances he shares with Phil tell Dan there’s something more going on here. Dan is, as per usual, completely clueless about what is happening. Suddenly, Phil sighs and rolls his eyes, stepping away from him. Dan lets out the breath he was holding, happy that the tension had - kind of - been relieved.
“So,” Phil drawls, “I presume you’re here for an autograph?”
Dan can’t help the grin that takes over his demeanour.
* * * * *
“Let’s fall asleep tonight,” Dan sings loudly, “I’ll hold you close, and show you you’re not broken.”
The atmosphere around him is suffocating, sweaty body parts colliding with each other as they jump to the beat of the music, but he’s positive this is the most fun he’s ever had. He’s standing at the front of the venue, completely pressed up against the barricade that digs into his belly every few seconds.
The girls around him scream when Phil walks to the edge of the stage. Phil is rocking tonight, as usual, his black hair sticking up from having ran his hands too many times through it. Phil grins when he spots Dan, his blue eyes lighting Dan on fire.
Phil reaches out with his hands, taking Dan’s flower crown and putting it atop his own head while winking at Dan. Dan blushes, completely forgetting to sing the chorus with everyone else. Suddenly, someone pushes him to the side, catching him off guard. His entire weight shifts to his ankle, making a terrible pain flare through his leg. He screams as he hits the floor, his head bumping against the concrete. The world slows down, everything beginning to fade one by one. The last thing he sees are two panicked blue eyes looking at him from the stage.
* * * * *
He blinks at the bright white light. It feels like someone is trying to burn his eyes out. When he opens them again he slowly looks around the room, seeing nothing familiar, not even his teddy bear or his extensive collection of flower crowns. Where is he?
A pressure squeezes his hand and he looks to his right, seeing his mum sitting next to the bed. Her eyes are concerned and her mascara has run down her face, leaving black smears in its wake.
“Whe-” he openes his mouth, but his mum shushes him quickly. She presses a button on the side of the bed, and a nurse appears in seconds.
“I’ll get him some water,” the nurse says after taking one glance at him, and she hands him a glass. He frowns, what is he doing here?
“Dan,” his mum speaks, her voice shaking, “you’re in a hospital. You were at that concert last night when someone pushed you and you fell and hit your head on the floor. Your ankle ligaments are torn, that’s why you fell down.” She hesitates before saying the next bit, her eyes flickering over to the door. “A nice young lad named Phil brought you here. He said he carried you out of the venue and called an ambulance, and he rode after it when they took you. He’s still here.”
Dan chokes on his water, coughing the fluid out of his lungs while his mum hits his back. Phil brought him here? Actual Phil Lester? Phil Lester the fucking guitar god?
“He’s still here, if you want to see him,” his mum says carefully once he’s lain back down on the pillows. Dan hesitates for a second, he probably looks like shit, as usual, and he doesn’t want Phil to see him like this. Then again, this is pretty much a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’d like that.”
His mum eyes him warily for a few seconds, like she doesn’t trust him, but she seems to shake it off pretty quickly. Her eyes drift over to the door again, where Phil is sitting and holy shit Phil Lester is sitting outside of my hospital room.
“Okay,” his mum mutters. “Should I go get him and leave you two alone for a little while then?”
He smiles gratefully at his mum, glad she understands his predicament at least a little bit. Dan rubs his eyes as she leaves the room, trying to make sure he’s not dreaming. After he pinches his arm and he’s still there, he’s almost convinced he really isn’t. Until Phil walks into his room that is, because there’s no way in hell Phil Lester would be willing to come into his fucking hospital room.
“Hey,” Phil whispers, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He looks so out of place in a white, clean hospital with all his tattoos, but the contrast makes him look even more gorgeous. “How are you feeling?”
Dan feels his cheeks heating up again, and he smiles to cover it up. “Fine,” he says softly. “A little sore, but fine.”
The moments after that are tense, seconds stretching out into minutes of them staring at each other. When it becomes to much, Dan scrapes his throat, quickly thinking of words to say. But what do you say to your fucking idol when he brought you to a hospital?
“Why are you still here?” Dan asks. Phil’s gaze shoots up from the floor to meet Dan’s eyes, startled by his question. He looks even more out of place now that he thinks he isn’t wanted. “Not that I don’t want you here,” Dan clarifies. “I was just wondering why you didn’t just go back to the venue. You probably had a concert to finish.”
Phil grins at that, blue eyes shining. “I still had your flower crown,” Phil smiles. “You know, the totally-not-at-all-cute flower crown?”
Dan almost face-palms. He kind of forgot that piece of information, which is weird because his flower crown are his most treasured belongings.
“Oh yeah,” Dan says. “Completely forgot about that, sorry. Can I have it back now?”
“Why?” Phil asks, eyes glinting mischievously. “That eager to get rid of me?”
Dan shakes his head vigorously, because that isn’t at all what he wants. He wants Phil to stay and sing songs for him and count his tattoos and he wants to do a lot of things with Phil.
“No,” Dan mutters. “I just figured you had something better to do.”
Phil grins, handing Dan the flower crown with a note attached to it. Dan frowns, plucking the note of of it. It says, ‘Call me!’ with a phone number written on it. He looks questioningly at Phil, trying to figure out if it’s some kind of prank.
“I kind of do,” Phil explains, “that’s why I’ve given you my number. Besides, like I said, you’re cute.” Phil winks as he walks out the room, making a ‘Call me’ sign with his hand, leaving a bewildered, blushing Dan alone in a hospital bed, fiddling with a flower crown.