Chapter Text
Dan awakens to a tap on his shoulder – at least he thinks he does, but as he blinks his eyes open, he finds himself alone at the table. Shit, did he fall asleep in the library again? He digs out his phone from his bag, squinting at the onslaught of bright, artificial light as he unlocks the screen. It’s 11:54 PM, meaning the library is about to close in six minutes. He’s lucky he woke up just in time; a couple months ago he’d been studying in a back corner when he fell asleep and woke up at four in the morning to a dark and empty library, forced to wait another four hours before he could leave.
Fortunately, nothing like that has happened ever since. Each time he’s fallen asleep – which is more than he’d like to admit – he’s woken up with just a few minutes to spare before closing. He supposes his internal clock got the message after the first time or something.
He quickly packs up his mostly unread textbooks, frowning at them as they disappear into his backpack. It's not that he means to fall asleep so often while studying, it's just... frankly, it’s fucking boring. So boring in fact that Dan has debated dropping out, even though he hasn’t even finished his first year yet. The only reason he hasn’t committed to it is, well, what else would he be doing if not this? Working at ASDA again? No, he just has to get through this, and he’ll come out the other side as a lawyer, able to have a steady, well-paying job. That’s what everyone wants, right? A great job, a wife, and 2.5 kids.
Well, Dan doesn’t want the second half of that, if he’s honest with himself – can’t have it, seeing as he isn’t exactly interested in women. So, he’ll have what he can: a job that makes good money. Even if working towards that is making him kind of miserable at the moment.
The legs of the chair scrape against the floor quietly as he stands up, only highlighting how deserted the library is now as it echoes throughout the space, the sound only swallowed by the pages in books both old and new.
As Dan steps outside, he instinctively draws his arms closer to himself. The weather is starting to warm, so the flimsy jumper he’s wearing was a perfectly fine article of clothing to wear during the day. The night, however, still brings a sharp, biting cold with it. It seeps into Dan’s bones by the time he makes it to his dorm. Once he arrives, he just ignores his flatmates and crashes into bed. It’s not that he’s tired, not after sleeping in the library, but it’s… he’s just always had difficulty connecting with people his age. So really, there’s nothing better to do.
He thought it would be better than this, here. He thought a fresh start would be all he needed to turn his life around, to finally connect with the people around him. But instead, it might as well be the same as it had been in Wokingham, just with a different exterior.
He sighs, turning over to face the wall. He’ll get through this eventually too. He will .
Maybe if he believes it hard enough, it’ll come true.
Whatever sleep he manages to get that night isn’t very restful, so on his way out in the morning he pops into the common room to use the coffee machine. He eyes it sceptically for a couple seconds; he heard someone complaining that it was empty yesterday morning. If that’s true, it likely won’t be refilled until Monday, which would make him curse his whole fucking existence. But, as he presses the button, the hot, dark liquid flows into the empty plastic cup without any issue. He doesn’t know what that person was going on about yesterday, but he’s not complaining.
Sipping on his warm drink to find any sort of solace, he reluctantly heads out to get to class. Though the coffee is too bitter on top and too sweet at the bottom it does its job, keeping Dan’s hands warm in the chilly morning. If the machine had been empty, he would’ve gone to a café to get coffee anyway – it’s just one of those days – which would’ve provided him with something tastier, but it would’ve cost more as well, so who is he to complain?
The short journey to the bus stop is unremarkable. Dan feels sort of spaced-out as he walks, stiffly holding the now-empty cup in his hand. He goes through the motions mechanically, no longer marvelling at his surroundings with interest as he first did when he moved to Manchester.
But then – sudden and piercing like a lightning strike – something, someone grabs onto Dan’s shoulder and pulls him backwards, making him stumble a little. He blinks his eyes quickly a couple times, and as the sharp sound of a car horn registers in his ears a surge of late-onset adrenaline rushes through his veins. Shit, he could’ve just been hurt or worse, he thinks as he stares after the departing car.
Once the sudden wave of intense emotions fades somewhat, he finally takes in his surroundings. Mainly, the man standing next to him; the one that presumably just saved him from being hit. The first thing Dan notices is that the stranger is tall, almost as tall as Dan himself. His striking, platinum blond hair – clearly bleached, if the visible brownish roots are anything to go off of – is the next thing he sees, along with concerned, bright blue eyes. “Are you alright?” the stranger asks, the worry obvious in his voice. His hand is still on Dan’s shoulder.
Dan can’t help but stare at him a little. Not just because he’s one of the most attractive people Dan’s ever seen, but also because it’s clear from the way he’s looking at Dan that he cares . This person, who Dan has never seen before in his life, actually cares about his existence, as brief as that care might be. Dan’s just about forgotten what that feels like.
After a few seconds of gaping, which he hopes he can blame on the shock, Dan finally speaks. “I’m fine,” he manages. “Just about, thanks to you. You might’ve just saved my life there.”
The man’s face flashes through a series of expressions, too fast for Dan to make out any of them. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”
Not in Dan’s experience. “Well, I’m grateful either way.” He bites down on the inside of his lower lip, glancing away briefly. “I’m Dan, by the way.”
The stranger seems to hesitate for a moment before a hesitant smile spreads across his face. “Erm… I’m Phil. It’s nice to meet you.” He purses his lips. “Though the circumstances could have definitely been better.”
Dan can’t help but laugh at that a little. “You’re telling me, mate. Can’t say it’s not memorable, though.” In more ways than one, he thinks privately.
“I suppose that’s true,” Phil concedes with a subtle smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you up, though. You looked like you were in a hurry.”
While Dan doesn’t actually give a shit about making it to class, he nods, possibly because he’s still a little out of it. “I have a lecture to get to, yeah.”
His face unreadable once again, Phil shifts. “I better stop bothering you, then. Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me.”
‘Bothering’ is the last thing Dan would call this. Call him desperate, but seeing as Phil seems even the slightest bit interested in him as a person, Dan wants to keep talking to him as long as possible, to revel in the feeling while he can. Though, realistically, once they’ve spent more than a few minutes together he’d either start to bore or annoy Phil, so perhaps it’s for the best if they part. Reluctantly, Dan offers him a brief smile. “It’s alright. And again, thank you.”
Phil grins properly this time, bright enough to outshine the sun. “Goodbye, Dan. It was a pleasure to meet you,” he says before giving Dan a little wave and turning away.
A little breathless, Dan turns his back as well. He makes sure to look for cars this time and finds the street all clear. However, just before he steps on the road, he casts one more look over his shoulder.
Behind him, Phil has stopped, and is peeking over his own shoulder exactly like Dan. Their gazes connect for the briefest of moments before Dan tears his away like he’s been burnt. It’s too late, though, as the brief spark has already ignited something in his chest. He swallows like that’ll be enough to put it out, and steps forward.
It becomes apparent very quickly that making it to class was pretty much useless, as Dan is completely distracted for the rest of the day. He keeps thinking back to that odd encounter, his thoughts drawn to it like moths to a flame. As brief as the conversation was, it was unlike any other Dan’s ever had. There was something so… bright and lively about Phil, and Dan’s struggling to think of a reason why someone like that would notice someone like him, let alone show any semblance of interest. Even though Phil said anyone would have done the same as him, Dan highly doubts that. They would’ve barely acknowledged his existence, at least until something actually happened. Even then, they would’ve been more worried about how it would affect them to see someone’s insides splattered all over the asphalt, tell the story to their friends as something terrible that happened to them .
Or maybe, Dan just needs to start listening to people when they say he’s too pessimistic.
Evidently, the right person was in the right place at the right time, so Dan supposes that means good things do happen sometimes. He just wishes they happened more often than this.
He knows it’s stupid, but he tries to look for Phil on the way back to his dorm. He doesn’t find him, obviously, because chances are Phil just happened to be walking in the area for no particular reason, but Dan still feels a twinge of disappointment as he pauses to look over his shoulder at the entrance to the dorm building. But then, he just sighs and lets it go. He really should accept by now that for him, moments of happiness are simply a fleeting, rare luxury.
He really, honestly doesn’t expect to see Phil ever again. He puts the encounter away into a part of his mind where he keeps his most preciously guarded memories and tries not to think about it all day every day, with moderate success.
That’s why when it actually happens, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
He’s in line at a coffee shop, rummaging through his pockets for change after forgetting his wallet in his room. By the time he manages to count it up he’s only a single person away from the counter, and as he discovers, exactly ten pence short of the cheapest option, a brewed black coffee. He’s just about to give up on existence and go lay down on the floor of his dorm for the rest of eternity when he feels a tap on his shoulder.
At first, he thinks he’s dreaming. And really, that’s quite a reasonable assumption when a stranger you met a couple days ago is standing behind you in a coffee shop, holding out a coin to you. However, as Dan stares at the very legible coin and very vivid and real environment, it becomes obvious that he is awake after all.
“You look like you need a little help,” Phil says with an easy smile, a silver coin resting on his held-out hand. It’s fifty pence, which added to what Dan has would be enough to get his usual drink.
He gapes at Phil, for a lack of anything else to do. “I— wh—” he stammers, still too shocked to speak.
Likely seeing that Dan isn’t going to take the coin himself, Phil reaches over to place it in his hand, where the rest of the coins are resting. His fingertips just barely graze Dan’s palm. “I think you’re up now,” he says, nodding towards the counter.
Gathering himself a little, Dan turns around. Sure enough, the spot in front of him is vacant, so he quickly steps forward and orders himself a cappuccino on autopilot. He stands aside to wait for his drink, and Phil joins him once he’s done at the counter as well. They stand there in silence for a few brief seconds before Dan finally gets his vocal chords to work again. “Thank you, by the way.” He scowls. “I feel like half of our conversations so far have been just me thanking you.”
Phil shrugs. “Don’t mention it. Anyone would have done the same.”
Dan can’t help but scoff at that. “If they even noticed.” He sighs. “I’d pay you back, but the whole reason I was in this situation is because I didn’t have enough money on me, so.”
He tries to avert his gaze, but Phil catches it. “It’s alright. You don’t have to pay me back for fifty pence. Besides, I’m happy to help.”
Fuck, he looks so genuine saying that, too. Before he can really think about it, Dan says the question in his mind that’s been playing over and over in the last five minutes. “Why are you so nice to me?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so accusatory, but in his defence, this entire situation feels like he stumbled into some sort of cliché rom-com.
But instead of getting offended, something in Phil’s gaze shifts. If it were anyone else, Dan would think it’s pity, but on Phil it just looks like sympathy. “I don’t think there always has to be a reason. I just want to be,” he says with a shrug, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Well, maybe he’s been living in a different world than Dan.
Their drinks are done at nearly the same time, and when Phil goes to find a seat, Dan follows him instinctively. He wasn’t planning on sitting down originally, but he’s not about to throw away what might be the only chance he has to properly talk to Phil. They find a mostly isolated corner in the back and settle down on the sofa there. From the label on his cup, it looks like Phil is drinking a caramel macchiato.
“So,” Phil starts after taking a sip of his coffee, “you said last time that you had a class to get to. What do you study?” To his credit, he looks actually interested. For some reason.
“Law. But it kind of fucking sucks, if I’m honest,” Dan says, looking down at his cup. Faint steam is drifting up from the hole in the lid, swirling around in the air until it dissipates. Most people would probably be judgemental if he admitted that, but he might as well be honest with the one person who’s been nothing but nice to him.
Though Dan can’t see his face, Phil doesn’t sound judgemental when he speaks. “Do you not like it, then?”
Dan laughs bitterly. “Understatement of the century, mate. I fucking hate it.”
Phil is quiet for a moment before he speaks. “I’m sorry. I wish I could just tell you that if it’s making you unhappy you should stop, but I know things aren’t that simple sometimes.”
The reply surprises Dan so much that he looks up at Phil again. He wasn’t expecting him to just get it like that right away, but perhaps he should be expecting the unexpected from Phil by now. “Yeah. Life’s unfair like that.” He sighs, then takes a sip of his drink. “And what do you do?” he asks, firmly putting an end to the frankly depressing topic of his education.
Phil seems a little caught off-guard by the question, as if he thought Dan wouldn’t be interested in him enough to ask something like that. “I’m erm… a caregiver of sorts.”
Seriously? How is this guy even real? He must be, because no one is looking at Dan weirdly for talking to thin air, but it’s like he’s some kind of saint or something. “That sounds like a difficult job.”
With a shrug, Phil just smiles. “Not really. I love doing it. The only time it’s hard is when I can’t help with something.” He looks so genuine saying it, too. If someone else said something like that, Dan would think they were playing it up, but that’s undoubtedly not the case with Phil.
“Is there anything about you that’s not literally perfect?” Dan asks before the words even register in his brain. Once he realises what he just said, though, his mouth goes dry, and the tips of his ears heat up.
Fortunately, Phil laughs at the remark, but Dan can’t help but notice that he looks a few shades more red than he did before. “Trust me, I’m far from perfect. I mess up plenty of times when it comes to my job. And outside of it, I feel like I don’t really fit in where I should.”
That’s a feeling Dan’s all too familiar with. Though he struggles to think why anyone wouldn’t enjoy Phil’s company. He understands why people aren’t interested in him, but in Phil ? Whoever Phil is hanging around, they must be idiots. “I don’t know if there’s any place you should fit in. I think you either just do or you don’t.” Even if it’s sometimes difficult to find the former, especially for someone like Dan.
Phil shrugs. “That’s one way of looking at it. It’s just that my situation is… complicated.” He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so Dan doesn’t push it. Phil takes a sip of coffee before pivoting away from the topic. “Anyway, I’m enjoying your company right now, so that’s pretty nice!”
Though Dan still tries to look for any sort of hint of sarcasm, he really should start to learn that however ridiculous it seems, Phil actually means it when he says things like that. “Well, you seem to be just about the only person who thinks that,” Dan jokes, but it falls a bit flat.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Phil says with his brows drawn together in something like concern. “I think you’re fun to be around.”
Dan raises his eyebrows. “That’s just because you’ve only spent approximately fifteen minutes in my company.”
Phil clearly wants to argue with that, but seems to be lost for words, opening his mouth briefly before closing it again. He purses his lips like he’s thinking for a couple seconds before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll just spend the rest of the day with you, then. So that I can prove you wrong.”
The thing is, Dan knows he should just roll his eyes and dismiss this idea. Even if Phil doesn’t get tired of him today, he will inevitably do so eventually. The best way for him to save himself from any future hurt is to nip this whole thing in the bud.
But there’s a part of him, a selfish, demanding part that he thought he’d finally managed to kill right around the time he moved here, that aches for this more than anything else in the world. It wants with a force that suggests it’s been quietly building up while Dan was too busy, too ignorant to notice it. It threatens to tear a hole into his chest if he refuses this.
So, he doesn’t. “Well, good luck with that,” he says, hopefully with enough sarcasm and nonchalance to hide how desperately he wants Phil to like him at the end of this.
Phil beams like the promise of spending time with Dan is the best news he’s received all week. “I don’t need luck, you just guaranteed I’m going to have a great day.” He sips on his latte. “Do you have anywhere you want to go after this? It’s okay if you don’t, I have plenty of ideas for what we could do.”
Dan raises his brows at that. Already? If he didn’t know any better, he would think Phil’s been thinking about this ahead of time. Which would be, you know, impossible, seeing as they’ve interacted for maybe twenty minutes total and there was no possible way Phil could have known they’d meet today.
Then again, Dan’s been thinking about Phil a lot since that chance encounter a few days ago. Has Phil been doing the same? Did he imagine what he would say or do if he saw Dan again? The idea of that makes Dan’s insides flutter. Outwardly, however, he shrugs. “Surprise me,” he says.
If possible, Phil’s grin gets even brighter. He really has quite a lovely smile, Dan can’t help but think.
After that, their conversation shifts to more mundane topics, like music and films. Dan finds himself listening with rapt attention as Phil talks about how he spends a lot of his limited free time watching movies, about how incredible he finds the creativity and the work put into them. Dan can empathise with that, he used to dream of becoming an actor before… well. Life happened.
But Phil speaks about everything with such appreciation, like every little detail of life is the most wonderful thing to ever happen. For the moment, Dan lets himself believe that as well.
Their drinks have long gone cold by the time they actually finish them and leave the coffee shop. For a while they just walk around, outside and then at the mall. For all Dan cares, they could be anywhere at all right now, as long as they are there together.
Throughout this journey, Dan finds three things out about Phil.
Number one is that Phil is funny, without even trying to be. The way he just inserts fun little quips as he talks is as natural as it is endearing and hilarious. Maybe it’s just that Dan hasn’t had much to laugh about lately, but his face starts to hurt from smiling so much. He doesn’t mind it in the least.
The second thing is that Phil is kind. Effortlessly so. Logically, Dan should know this already, but it’s somehow different when it’s not directed at him. Phil casually helps strangers like it’s the easiest thing in the world. When a girl drops some of her papers on the street, he instinctively jumps in to help her pick them up. When they see an old lady standing in front of a staircase with several bags in her hand, he immediately asks if he can help her carry them. And he does it all like it’s his honour to be helping. It once again makes Dan question how Phil is actually real.
The last thing Dan notes is that Phil is mysterious. He talks about himself, sure, but only his present self. Nothing about his childhood or his family. Which is a little odd for someone who seems as open and friendly as him, but hey, it’s not like Dan himself is all that keen to talk about those things either, so who is he to judge?
Though actually, Dan ends up telling a lot more about himself than he thought he would. Something about Phil’s presence just makes him want to spill all his secrets for some reason. He holds back, of course, but he does tell some of the less depressing stories from his childhood. The fact that Phil looks genuinely interested in all of them certainly doesn’t help his restraint either.
Dan doesn’t even realise how long it’s been until he sees the sun approaching the horizon. The reminder that the day will come to an end soon makes his stomach constrict.
Perhaps noticing this, or maybe just having great timing, Phil taps his shoulder to get his attention. The brief touch feels like electricity coursing through him, even with the several layers of clothing between them. “Do you want to get dinner together? I’m not sure if you’ve been, but I was thinking we could go to the Skybar.”
Recovering as quickly as he can, Dan raises his brows. “In case you forgot, I still don’t have my wallet with me.”
Phil waves his hand dismissively. “That’s okay, it’s on me. You can pay next time, if you want.”
Dan’s heart does a strange little stutter at the thought of a next time. Feeling as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs, he struggles to find his words, so he just nods. “Okay.”
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Phil smiles at him.
It only takes them a couple minutes to get there, so clearly, it’s something Phil has been planning. The thought of that makes Dan’s head spin a little.
The lounge itself looks fancier than probably any other place Dan has been to, which is a bit pointless in his opinion when most people come here to enjoy the outside view. The place isn’t crowded at all, what with it being a weekday, so they find a table by the windows easily enough. Though calling them windows is an understatement, it’s more like a glass wall. The sun is starting to set properly now, painting the underside of the clouds gold and illuminating the city with a warm, orange glow. Long, drawn-out shadows cover the streets below them, but up here, the sun is free to release its last rays uninterrupted.
Glancing over at Phil, who seems just as entranced by the view, Dan can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. Phil’s gaze jumps from place to place, sweeping over the city. The golden light reflects in his eyes, making them look all sorts of blue and green and yellow. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, the adoration clear on his face as he looks over the skyline.
“Yeah,” Dan replies, though he finds his gaze drawn to Phil rather than the view.
Finally, after a few moments that might as well feel like hours, Phil turns back, eyes meeting Dan’s. “There’s just something about a bird’s eye view that I find so comforting. I go out of my way to see the city like this as often as I can. I must’ve gone on the Eye at least a dozen times by now.”
Dan can definitely see the appeal of it. From up here, all of his problems, his day-to-day life, seem so small. There must be tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people living their lives in the areas he’s seeing right now through the window, and it’s almost reassuring in a way to feel like he’s a component in that infinitely complex puzzle of human life. “I’ve never been on it.”
Phil’s eyes widen. “Really? I need to take you there after we’re done here, then. It’s not as high as this, obviously, but the night lights look wonderful from it nonetheless.”
Honestly, as long as it prolongs the day, Dan would go anywhere with Phil.
The dinner is amazing, though with all due credit to the bar, the food could taste like dogshit and Dan would enjoy it just as much. He wishes he could freeze this moment and stay in it forever.
Unfortunately, time doesn’t work like that, and Phil doesn’t let them stay too long after they’ve finished eating, seeing as the Manchester Eye is only open for so long. Luckily, they’re only ten minutes away, so they make it with plenty of time to spare.
With it being a weekday night in April, the queue isn’t very long, so they only have to wait about five minutes to board. As the door of the capsule is closed behind them, Dan feels his heart hammering in his chest.
There’s plenty of space inside, but they still sit close enough for their thighs to touch. Not knowing what to do with his nervous, jittery hands, Dan clasps them together in his lap.
They’re both silent as the wheel slowly lifts them higher in steps, the passengers still boarding. Dan wonders if Phil is feeling just as restless and anxious as him. Surely, he must be. Surely, Dan can’t be the only one who feels too much , with hands itching to reach out and touch. Phil’s thigh is warm and solid against his.
As the wheel’s movements smooth out and they’re raised high above the skyline, the warm, yellow lights of Manchester spreading out below them, Dan moistens his lower lip. He turns to look at Phil, studying his profile, the curve of his nose and his lips, the way his hair covers his forehead, the impossible colour of his eyes. “Hey,” he says, without really meaning to.
Phil turns to meet his gaze, smiling as he does. “Hey,” he echoes, voice trembling slightly on the syllable.
And maybe it’s that tremble, or maybe it’s that it’s just the two of them in a pod with darkened windows, or maybe something else entirely, but Dan thinks fuck it . Fuck being safe and fuck walking on eggshells, because even with the suggestion that they could see each other again, the future is uncertain, and this might be his only chance he gets to be with Phil. This very moment might be the only one when he has the chance to do what he’s wanted since practically the very moment he saw Phil. It feels terrifying, like he’s teetering on the edge of a cliff without knowing if it’s an ocean or a mountain below him. And even in an ocean he could get swept away by the waves so easily. But maybe, he just has to trust in his ability to swim.
Dan closes his eyes and closes the distance between them.
At first, Phil’s lips are still against his, but after a few moments where it feels like the tides have taken him hold, Dan feels Phil begin to kiss him back and he resurfaces. He kisses Phil like a man starved for air, like he might die if he stops. Blood is rushing in his eardrums, and Phil’s exhale through his nose is warm against Dan’s cheek, his lips soft and a little chapped. A hand comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers carding through his hair.
With trembling fingers, Dan reaches for something, anything to take hold of, eventually blindly finding his way to Phil’s ribcage, solid and real and grounding. It’s so much and yet not enough at the same time, and Dan’s heart feels like it might burst.
It could be seconds or hours before they part for all Dan knows, and he has half a heart to just pull Phil back to him immediately. He doesn’t, but only because he might never stop kissing Phil if he doesn’t now. His head is spinning as he opens his eyes. As he watches Phil look at him with something like wonder in his gaze, Dan’s feelings are all too big, too much, too hard to comprehend, so he drops his forehead against the place where Phil’s neck meets his shoulders to stop the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.
The hand formerly on his head slides down to his neck, while another one makes its way to his back. His own arms wind their way around Phil’s torso.
They stay in that hug for a little while, until Dan manages to fit the puzzle pieces of his brain back together and feels like a person again. Once he straightens up, Phil is the first to speak. “Thank you,” is all he says.
Dan feels the urge to laugh at that, but it comes out a little choked. “For what? I should be the one thanking you.” For a multitude of reasons .
Phil shakes his head minutely, and though he’s still smiling, his gaze turns a shade more melancholy. “I’ll tell you soon enough. Just… not now.”
Well, whatever it may be, Dan can wait if he gets to kiss Phil again in the meantime. “When can I see you again?”
Any hint of gloom dissipates from Phil’s expression at the question. “When do you want to?”
Now. Tomorrow. Anytime. Forever. “I have some time after my classes tomorrow. They end at four. If that works for you.”
“I can make that work,” Phil says with a grin. “Also, I win.”
Dan blinks at him. “Win what?”
Phil’s fingers shift on Dan’s neck, making him shiver. “The bet. I spent the whole day with you, and I actually like you even more than I did at the start.”
Oh. Dan sort of forgot about that. However, at Phil’s declaration, his insides do all sorts of happy little flips. “I— shut up,” he mumbles, feeling the tips of his ears heat up.
Phil beams. “Okay,” he says, and then he kisses Dan again.