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In the world Dan lived in, first impressions were everything. They were what made a person’s entire life and what decided who your perfect partner was.
Dan lived in a world where the first words you thought when you saw your soulmate were tattooed on your soulmate’s body forever. So far, in the entire seventeen years of his life, he hadn’t had any luck but he didn’t particularly care.
He would be perfectly content if he never found his soulmate.
For as long as Dan could remember, he’d always been the baddest boy in school. He was the one people stuttered in front of, the one who had everyone’s eyes on him at all times, the one with the leather jackets and the cigarettes.
He was feared by everyone who stood in his way, and that was the way he liked it, the way it’d always been. Dan Howell: King of the School.
So why the fuck was a new kid suddenly getting all of Dan’s typical attention?
As soon as Dan saw him, he knew he hated him more than anyone else. He even despised him more than Timothy from the second grade, which was big enough in itself. Phil Lester was his name, a name that didn’t really mean anything to Dan but apparently meant a lot to the other kids in school.
The first time Dan saw him was when Phil had drove to the school in his motorcycle - a fucking motorcycle - equipped in a slick leather jacket with a cigarette dangling loosely from his unimpressed lips. His hair was swept back from the wind and black as the night, eyes a brighter blue than Dan’s future.
Dan nearly sneered at the image. He’d heard about him - obviously - and he didn’t see why everyone was all over him. Maybe it’s the leather jacket, he thought, shaking his head. He decided not to dwell on it though, why did it matter to him if “Phil Lester” was suddenly some big name?
He would always be the baddest boy in school and that would never change.
For a bit after that, Dan nearly forgot about the new kid. Sure, he’d see him here or there but Dan was the one who people fawned over and he was still partying every weekend and smoking a pack of cigarettes per day, his name poison on his classmates’ tongues. Phil was easy to sweep under the rug when he wasn’t in any of Dan’s classes and he seemed to disappear like he had never been there in the first place.
Then, it happened.
Dan had just said goodbye to his friends and started trekking to where his car was parked, drawing out a cigarette from his pocket and putting it behind his ear. The metal of his lighter was cold in his hand and he lit it a few times, loving the metallic click that rang through the air. There was a slight breeze kissing Dan’s cheeks that made him shiver, zipping up his leather jacket.
“Hey, dimples!”
The shout was sudden and Dan didn’t want to admit that it’d surprised him a bit, but the way he’d dropped his lighter made it quite obvious. He turned to the culprit and couldn’t help the way his eyes turned icy as he met the gaze of Phil Lester. This guy was still around? Dan felt his chest burn, he assumed it was from the sudden surge of anger flaring in his bones. “What?”
Phil raised an eyebrow. There was a smirk on his lips that made Dan want to slap it right off his face. “No need to be so bitchy,” Phil snickered. There were two of Phil’s friend standing behind him, Chris Kendall and Cat Valdes. They snickered at his words and Dan felt his chest burn hotter. “I was just going to compliment your jacket, but I suddenly don’t want to anymore. Assholes don’t deserve compliments.”
Dan bristled. He snatched the cigarette from behind his ear, sticking it into his mouth and lighting it. He didn’t care if he was still on school property, they could deal and the thick smoke filling his lungs always seemed to calm him down. He exhaled, blowing the smoke right in Phil’s pretty little face. “Suck my dick, douchebag.”
“I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Phil laughed, shaking his head. His voice was smug as if he thought he’d won. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. “Come on, guys, let’s get out of here. No use talking to this loser.”
Dan decided not to say anything, figuring that Phil was only trying to get a rise out of him. He sucked down another breath of smoke and exhaled through his teeth, watching the smoke swirl into the air like ballet dancers performing a duet. As Cat walked past, she slammed her shoulder into his arm, knocking him off balance for a mere second as Phil and Chris snickered at the action.
Dan could only feel his hatred grow. Phil Lester would pay.
He made his way towards his car once more, already forming his plan. He didn’t know exactly what he’d do, but he knew that he would never give up his title as the school’s badass. Phil would quiver before him if he could help it. Before he started up his car, he sent a quick message to his group chat (which consisted of his friends Caspar, PJ, and Louise).
To: Biscuit Bitches
Phil Lester = dead
In only a matter of seconds, his phone was chiming, asking him questions that he wouldn’t answer while he was driving. He was far too pissed anyways, his chest feeling as if it was on fire with the thoughts in his head. His hands were shaking and his forehead was sweaty. Phil’s words were ringing unapologetically in his head, calling him a loser and telling him how much an asshole he is.
Which, okay, maybe Dan was an asshole, but Phil fucking Lester can’t say that.
As soon as Dan got home, he was running up the stairs and to his bedroom, ripping off his leather jacket and throwing it to the ground. He was so hot that his hair was curling from sweat so he wasted no time in taking off his shirt and jeans as well. He was two seconds away from falling into bed and moping for five hours when he caught sight of something unusual in the mirror.
“What the…?” Dan muttered, furrowing his eyebrows. He squinted his eyes and stepped closer to the mirror, his mouth going dry at the realization of what had happened. He started to panic.
On his chest, right underneath his collarbones and scrawled in beautiful script were words, which could mean only one thing and one thing only.
Dan’s soulmate had seen him for the first time. And he didn’t know who it was.
The initial panic wore off as soon as it came, replaced with a weird calmness. Of course that wouldn’t matter. Whoever they were was his soulmate for a reason and he’d definitely see them again. Hell, they were designed for him, Dan’s other half, so of course they’d meet eventually.
Dan smiled, feeling like a gross lovestruck girl in a bad anime. He fell onto his bed, running his fingers over his newly inked chest. The skin was raised slightly and felt as if he’d been sunburned where the ink had settled into his skin, but he didn’t stop.
His thoughts about Phil Lester were immediately forgotten.
I’d like to kiss his dimples.
-
Dan seemed to see Phil much more after what he was cleverly now calling The Incident. It seemed as if they were constantly coming across each other during smoke breaks, between classes, even outside of school at the store. As if Phil was taunting him with a smug smirk and the exhalation of smoke from his lungs, billowing around Dan’s face and making him crinkle his nose with disgust at the fact that he was breathing in the same air that Phil’d just exhaled.
His friends were getting pretty peeved at him for keeping this up so long, but he didn’t really care. He just wanted Phil to leave the school and never come back, letting Dan have all of the glory of being a badass.
It seemed to be a constant now, Phil showing up to what he called the ‘smoking dumpster’ where they would taunt each other for the next ten minutes, occasionally resulting in a shoving match that wasn’t too vicious. Just like every day that week, Phil showed up just as Dan was lighting his cigarette, grinning a cat-like smile at him.
Dan tried to ignore him, leaning against the brick wall and inhaling fumes into his lungs. He almost couldn’t wait until the smoke killed him, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with Phil’s pointless daunting.
They were quiet for a moment, relishing in the disgusting smell of the cigarettes and the light sizzle when they breathed it in. Dan was the one who spoke first, his hands itching to tap against the wall for lack of something better to do. He hated silence and hated that Phil was making everything awkward. “You got nothing better to do than to tease me?”
Phil shrugged. His eyes glinted in the sunlight and his skin looked so white it was a bit blinding. Dan had the fleeting thought that he was rather beautiful, but it quickly dispersed when he remembered how much of an asshole Phil was. “You’re fun to tease,” Phil replied, chuckling.
“How?”
“You get so angry over such small things,” he started, tapping on the area between Dan’s eyebrows where he was furrowing them. Dan swatted him away, his face burning where Phil touched. “It’s cute when you’re angry. You get so flustered and defensive for literally no reason. You try to act all tough but really, you’re just a sensitive guy offended that someone more badass than he is tried to take his glory.”
Dan spluttered, pushing Phil’s shoulder, who immediately pushed him back. If they were friends, this would be friendly banter, but Dan was just trying not to knock Phil out. His words made Dan’s chest flutter and his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, and he didn’t like this feeling at all. “I’m not sensitive! Or cute!” Dan protested gruffly, huffing out a breath.
“Sure you aren’t. Next thing you know, you’re going to be painting your nails and wanting to be praised.” He snickered. “Be a good boy, Dan.”
Dan bristled, shoving an elbow into Phil’s stomach and relishing in the way he doubled over in pain. Serves him right. Even so, he kind of - liked? - the words. That wasn’t really the correct wording for the feeling he was getting, but Dan figured he probably just hadn’t had sex in far too long. “Fuck off, Lester. I’ll bet you have a secret collection of stuffed animals and call other people daddy when they fuck you.”
“More like other people are the one calling me daddy.” The comment earned Phil another elbow in the abdomen, but he was prepared for it this time, grabbing Dan’s arm and pushing him away roughly. He took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground, crushing it under his black combat boot. He smirked smugly at Dan. “Well, that’s my cue. See you later, dimples.”
He walked away before Dan could muster any words of protest. Why was Phil always getting the last word? It wasn’t fair.
-
“Just let it go, man,” PJ groaned at Dan, three weeks after The Incident. “He literally didn’t say anything bad to you until you lashed at him. All he did was say hello and commented on your dimples. I think it’s time to put it in the past already.”
Glaring at him, Dan took a drag from his cigarette and leaned against the brick wall of the school. They always went out there to smoke behind the dumpsters where hardly anyone ventured during school hours. Out of sight, out of mind, and they hadn’t gotten caught yet at least. “I can’t just ‘let it go’,” Dan grumbled, giving PJ an unimpressed look. Louise raised an eyebrow at him, as if challenging his words but he ignored her. “Do you see the way he looks at me? The guy despises me, thinks he’s better than me. Thinks he’s more of a badass than I am. I can’t stand it.”
Louise snorted, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous, Dan.” She shivered in the autumn air and tightened her black jacket around her shoulders. “If you think he’s trying to compete with you then you’re absolutely blind. The guy definitely has the hots for you, thinks you’re pretty or something. Why else would he have said hello to you?”
“Because he wants to tease me?” Dan was growing annoyed. He didn’t like the fact that his friends were trying to stand up for the likes of Phil Lester, as if Dan was wrong. He was never wrong, not when it came to things like these at least. “He doesn’t fancy me, he doesn’t want to fuck me, the only thing he wants to do is fuck with me.”
“Damn right I wanna fuck with you.”
The trio of friends all visibly flinched, whipping their heads around to stare at Lester as if he had suddenly sprouted three heads and was breathing fire. There he stood, with his signature leather jacket and a comfortable smirk on his face. There was an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and Dan watched with annoyance as he stepped closer to them. “But maybe I wanna fuck you too. Who knows?” Dan spluttered as Phil let out a loud laugh, relishing in the expression of disgust on Dan’s face. He didn’t give Dan a chance to respond before he was reaching out and grabbing the lighter that was gripped in Dan’s palm, lighting his cigarette with a satisfied sigh.
Dan couldn’t even hide his fury when Phil replaced the lighter in his hand, and he snatched it away, glaring angrily. His heart was pounding and there was an annoying blush on his face although he didn’t know why. From this close of a distance, he noticed the patches sewn on Phil’s jacket, a mixture of different bands (Sublime, Less Than Jake), nerdy pokemon badges, and movie puns. He didn’t want to admit that his leather jacket may be cooler than Dan’s own. (He briefly wondered if he could buy his own patches but realized that it would look as if he was copying Phil, and he definitely could not have that). “You’re an ass,” Dan muttered. Harsh words died in his throat and he really just wanted to punch Lester in the face once and for all.
“At least I have an ass.”
“Can’t deny that one,” Louise joked but she quieted when Dan gave her a venomous glare. She was not supposed to be making friends with the enemy. Dan couldn’t help but feel betrayed.
Dan threw his half-finished cigarette on the ground, stomping on it with his spiked black shoe. He imagined that it was Lester’s face, which made him feel slightly better. “I’m leaving,” he announced. He narrowed his eyes at Louise and PJ, a bit peeved at the treatment they had given him just now. “I’ll see you guys at Bryony’s party later.” He paused, thinking about the words sprawled on his chest and the fact that he hadn’t yet told them about it yet. For some reason it hadn’t seemed right to tell them about it so soon after it had happened. But now he was ready, prepared for his friends to help him find this person. “Actually, meet me at mine beforehand. Important news.”
“Dan, wait-.”
He didn’t stop to see what PJ had to say to him. He couldn’t stand another moment with Phil standing so close to him, his cologne clogging his nostrils and making him feel nauseous. Phil’s chuckles rang through his ears and he never wanted anything more than to just tear his eardrums right out, that way he’d never have to hear that noise again.
Fucking bastard.
-
Louise and PJ showed up at Dan’s house an hour before Byrony’s party started, ready to a tee. They seemed to have prepared themselves for a long rant on Dan’s end, which wasn’t really an overestimate on their half as Dan definitely liked to drone on about things that didn’t really matter in the end.
When Dan took off his shirt, showing them the words sprawled on his chest, he wasn’t surprised when PJ dropped his phone and Louise squealed in shock. Dan wasn’t exactly the most approachable person in his school and nobody expected him to get his tattoo quite so soon. Now most people didn’t have as much trouble as Dan when figuring out who had the other half of the linework, but Dan was a bit daft and couldn’t remember when he’d felt the burn begin in his chest or if he’d even felt anything to signal its presence at all. The downside to Dan’s naivety is that his school was quite large, meaning there was no possible way he could know every single person in it.
Yeah, Dan was fucked.
“And how long have you known about this?!” Louise screeched, making Dan wince. He knew that she meant well, that she just cared about him a lot, but whenever she got excited, Dan could literally feel his eardrums burst.
“About a week?”
“A week?!”
This time, PJ put his hand over her mouth, stopping her from saying anymore. Dan was grateful because he knew she was probably about to explode. When PJ spoke, his voice was quiet, his eyes soft. He was happy for Dan, a small smile on the edge of his lips. “Well obviously this person thinks highly of you,” he said, nodding pointedly at the writing scrawled over Dan’s chest. “Considering they want to kiss your dimples and all. Dunno why when you’re such a dick, but I suppose that’s their problem.”
Dan laughed loudly, shoving his friend. This, of course, started a shoving match, the two giggling as they pushed around each other until Louise stepped in, prying them off of each other. She raised her eyebrow at Dan, asking him a silent question of who he thought it could be. “I don’t know who it is,” he answered, frowning. “I don’t even know if I saw the other person yet. I feel like if I did, they would have already said something to me about it, you know? I see new people in the hallways every day; it’s a bit hard to tell who your soulmate is if you see each other at different points.”
His friends stared sadly at him, worry swimming in their eyes. But Dan wasn’t worried, not exactly, not when the universe had everything planned out for him and he was supposed to be with this person for the rest of his life. Sooner or later, they would meet, and Dan would just know. End of story, Dan didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He just wanted to get to the party where he could drink his life away and avoid the prospect of responsibility. He voiced as much to his friends, watching as they nodded in understanding.
They left for Bryony’s soon afterwards, slightly tipsy as they had decided to pregame before, downing a few beers so they wouldn’t arrive to the party and have that awkward ‘waiting to get drunk’ moment. This also meant that they walked to the house, avoiding the car entirely because they knew they were going to be way too shitfaced that night and didn’t want to risk the possibility of them drunkenly deciding to be sober enough to drive. Even if Dan was a badass, he still respected the traffic laws.
The party had started by the time they arrived, the music blaring so loudly they could hear it from a few blocks away. The night sky was full of drunken bouts of laughter, shitty rap music, and the smell of alcohol and marijuana. A perfect party, and Dan wasn’t even in the house yet.
When they entered, they each earned respective pats on the backs from various people, heading to the alcohol table as if it was their reason for living, for breathing, and everything in between. Dan would be damned if he wasn’t going to get completely sloshed.
“Dan the man!” A voice shouted over the music just as he was pouring himself a glass of piss-warm beer. He turned to find Bryony flinging herself at him, her blonde hair a bit messy with sweat, most likely from dancing amongst a throng of sweaty teenagers. She wrapped an arm around him, holding her beer high above her head in the other hand. “So glad you could make it, it’s not a party without you here!”
Dan laughed and hugged her back, having to crouch a bit because he was rather tall compared to her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he promised.
“Well, cheers mate!” She clanked her plastic cup to his rather hard, spilling a bit of beer on the floor. She was probably going to have a heck of a time cleaning everything up after this and Dan silently wished her luck. In sync, they both raised their cups to their lips and chugged the entire thing in one go, whoops and hollers filling the room around them. After refilling their cups, Bryony disappeared back into the crowd, staggering her way out of the room and leaving Dan chuckling behind her.
It didn’t really take long for Dan to start feeling the effects of the alcohol more than he already was. PJ had disappeared a while ago, leaving Louise and Dan to venture around together, laughing hysterically on a couch whilst watching their classmates try to sloppily dance together. It was a sight to see; Dan leaning on Louise’s shoulder, his head in the crook of her neck while Louise tried not to spill her beer on the couch.
“Dan, Dan, Dan,” Louise gasped, straightening up a bit. This time, she did spill some drink on the couch, but they both were too drunk to notice. He nodded, showing that he was listening to what she had to say. “We should, should totally paint your nails.”
“But, I don’t have any nail paint?” Dan slurred, a bit confused at her suggestion.
“Dude, Bryony is a girl.”
“And I’m a boy.”
Louise pushed Dan off of her, sighing in exasperation. “Bryony has nail polish.”
Dan’s confusion instantly cleared and he widened his eyes, nodding his head. Painting his nails suddenly sounded like the best idea in the entire world. With Dan’s acceptance, they stumbled up the stairs past countless couples making out (and practically having sex) in the hallway before they made it to the restroom. They opened every cabinet before the reached ‘the one’, pulling out a plastic bag full of nail polish like they found a goldmine.
“I paint yours and you paint mine?” Louise offered, riffling through the bag. She eventually settled on a bottle of lime green and a bottle of black paint, giving Dan a grin with a gleam in her eyes. Obviously the black was for Dan, considering his affinity with the colour.
“Deal,” Dan agreed.
Thus began their little painting party. Dan painted Louise’s nails first, giggling whenever she swatted at him for getting the polish on her skin. He never knew that painting someone else’s nails could be so fun, but that could also be the alcohol talking. Either way, when he was with his best friend, anything could be fun.
When it was his turn, Dan watched as each nail slowly turned to the colour of his soul, black liquid smearing over the surface so shiny and nice. Louise did a much better job than he had, even though she was smashed, but that’s probably because she actually knew what she was doing while he did not. Dan decided he liked the feeling of the coldness on his nails and liked the way it looked, staring at them in awe.
Halfway through his left hand, the bathroom door opened and someone paused in the doorway. Dan and Louise blearily looked up, squinting their eyes because why were lights so fucking bright? When his eyes adjusted, he clearly saw Phil, gaping down at him as if he’d never seen him before. Dan looked down at himself, wondering if he had something weird on his shirt before he realized that Phil must’ve been gaping because of the whole nail painting thing going on. The expression was rather adorable and Dan could feel his heart do some sort of flippy-over thing. He blamed it on the fact that he was drunk and would probably screw anybody who walked in. When he saw Dan looking, Phil’s face immediately hardened into the trademarked smirk Dan was so used to seeing. “Painting your nails, huh?” Phil taunted. “You gay, then?”
Dan rolled his eyes, puffing out his cheeks. He would push a hand through his fringe but reminded himself that his nails were wet .2 seconds before he did so. “So what if I might be?” He asked. He meant for his voice to come out sarcastic, but it just sounded like he was a drunk child. Phil looked taken aback for a millisecond before the expression was wiped from his face. It wasn’t as if Dan hid it, and he was bisexual anyways. There was a fucking difference. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Lester.”
Phil opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss of words. Dan felt triumphant, finally having won an argument and making Phil not know what to say to him. Dan was awesome. Finally, he just settled on a firm, “Fuck off, Howell,” before turning and stalking away. It was a bit hard to understand what he did when it was Phil who interrupted them in the first place, but Dan just shrugged and turned his attention back to his nails.
He was so not going to regret this fine decision in the morning.
-
Contrary to popular belief, Dan somewhat regretted his decision in the morning.
Well, he didn’t particularly care about the whole nail polish thing as he agreed that he looked rather hardcore (plus the ‘breaking gender roles’ thing was pretty badass), but he certainly cared about the fact that he was waking up with the worst hangover in the entire world. He didn’t even think about the fact that he had school the next day, making his decision about ten thousand times worse.
But that’s what Thirsty Thursday was for, right? Getting sloshed on a Thursday night with no regards to school? Dan could deal with it for the time being, but if someone so much as looked at him, he was going to have a fucking problem. Especially if they were judging him for having his nails painted. Then he might just have to deck them in the face.
He decided to take some pain medication first before waking up his two best friends. Somehow they had managed to find each other again during the night and stumble all the way to Dan’s house, collapsing on Dan’s tiny queen sized mattress without much regard as to who was lying on who. “Yo,” Dan mumbled, pushing PJ’s shoulder. His friend grumbled and wearily opened his eyes as Dan moved onto Louise. He shoved water and pain medication at them, face grim. “Take these and get your ass up. I’m not being late to school because of you lazy fucks.”
“Catty much?” PJ mumbled, snatching the items from Dan’s hand and quickly downing them. They all had a long day ahead of them and Dan couldn’t wait to light up a cigarette to calm himself down and hopefully stop his fucking head from pounding a bit.
“Can’t we just skip?” Louise pleaded. Despite her whining, she was up in a matter of moments, taking her respective medication and then rifling through Dan’s wardrobe until she came across a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants, dressing in them accordingly. It didn’t matter to Dan or PJ that she changed in front of them, they had all known each other since they were babies and had basically seen each other naked more than they could count.
“If I skip another day I’ll get detention.”
“So? What’s another detention?”
“Just get ready or I swear to God we won’t be friends anymore.”
Soon enough, they were all ready and wearing at least one article of Dan’s clothing each. PJ decided to change into some of Dan’s jeans because he had apparently spilled vodka on his own and Louise was even wearing some of Dan’s socks, looking like an excited girl in her boyfriend’s oversized clothing. The difference, though, was that she wasn’t Dan’s girlfriend and Dan definitely wasn’t her boyfriend. Despite what anyone else in their year thought.
Dan’s day was as shitty as he thought it was going to be. He heard some whispers about his nails and his cheeks burned at some of the comments. He was slowly getting more frustrated, wanting to yell at everyone that nail polish wasn’t gendered, that nothing was gendered, but he couldn’t afford another detention so he kept it in, his hands shaking all the while.
He wanted to punch something, needed to punch something, so when Phil Lester came in and teased him, he had trouble keeping his fists at his side.
Phil showed up just as Dan lit his cigarette, inhaling the fumes with a bitter mouth and closed eyes. His migraine had slightly gone down during the day but was still a ringing constant behind his eyelids, a reminder of last night and all of the regrets in his life. He felt a tap on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Phil, smirking lightly through a cigarette trapped between his teeth. Dan’s anger surged at the sight and his chest felt light again, similar to the feeling he had gotten last night when he saw Phil at the party. He didn’t really know what was going on with him lately but it was pissing him off.
Dan frowned, glaring. “What?”
“You’re still wearing the nail polish?” Phil asked, raising his eyebrows as he stared judgmentally at Dan’s fingers daintily holding his own cigarette. If only Phil knew how badly Dan was trying not to crush it in his palm. “Didn’t think you had the guts to show up to school like that.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I like it,” Dan muttered.
Phil chuckled, taking a drag. Dan watched as he exhaled, plumes of smoke rising from his lips and into the air. “I mean,” he began, pausing to grin innocently at Dan. “You’re kind of a pussy, aren’t you?”
And that’s when Dan snapped. Those stupid feelings in his chest, the hangover, Phil’s taunting, all of it was just pissing him off.
He didn’t really think when it happened, only vaguely remembered pulling his fist back and plowed it straight into Phil’s face. Phil let out a scream of, “What the fuck!” and then he was falling backwards after being shoved straight to the ground. Dan was throwing punch after punch, most of them not doing any damage, but he certainly noted with satisfaction that Phil’s lip was bleeding and he had decked him right in the eye.
They tussled a bit on the ground, Phil getting his own punches in, but Dan barely noticed. He was too pissed, too tired with the day that he just wanted to let it all out on Phil fucking Lester, the guy who thought he was better than him, who he hated more than anything in the world.
Dan finally got them into a good position, sitting on Phil’s thighs to hold him down, a hand gripping Phil’s Led Zeppelin shirt into a tight ball. He brought his fist back, aiming it towards Phil’s face and Phil reached up to shield himself. Due to their positioning and the fact that Dan was pulling on Phil’s shirt so hard, Phil’s collar bones were showing, and that’s how Dan saw them. The black words tracing over his chest in elegant script, so blaringly bold that it was hard for Dan not to read it.
He froze. A lump rose in his throat. He felt like he was going to puke.
Phil lowered his arms, looking at Dan in confusion as he paused his movements. There was blood running from his nose and his lip and a light blue bruise was forming on his cheek. His eyebrows were drawn.
Without realizing it, Dan put his hand down, instead touching it to his own chest where the familiar words were written there. He’d looked at them so many times that he could visualize every bump and curve, what they read, what the felt like. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.
What could he say when his soulmate was literally his worst enemy?
He didn’t get a chance to say those words though before he was being ripped off of Phil, forced to stand up as a teacher began to yell in his face. He got a detention that day but he could hardly care. His thoughts were elsewhere, his hangover to the back of his mind.
He couldn’t bring himself to care because Phil fucking Lester had the words, ‘Maybe it’s the leather jacket’ scrawled over his collar bone.
-
As it turns out, Dan never got a chance to tell Phil what he saw. The teacher assigned the both of them detentions at different times so they wouldn’t fight anymore and threatened them with expulsion if he saw them so much as looking at each other.
This made it rather easy to avoid Phil, and Dan didn’t have a problem with it in the slightest.
He wondered if the universe had made a mistake, if this was some sick joke and he would wake up one day and have a completely different soulmate and find someone who he truly loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was the only person with a soulmate who hated his guts, the only person who had a fucking mistake carved into his skin.
It took him two whole days to tell his friends what had happened, what he had seen, and he was surprised at himself when he started to cry. Dan Howell never cried, not even when his dog had died a few years ago and he was thrown into a pit of existential crises. They didn’t judge though, and he couldn’t have a better friend group. Louise just held him close, petting his hair and whispering that she was so sorry this had to happen to him and she’s absolutely positive that things will turn out okay in the end. Louise was soft and caring and Dan wondered why she couldn’t have been his soulmate. PJ had sat and watched, bringing Dan popcorn and soda and feeding him until he had a full belly and his tears had reduced to soft sniffles. He also wondered why PJ couldn’t have been his soulmate either.
From the moment he was born, he was told that his soulmate would be someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who would cherish him and whisper how much they loved him in the night. They would be his perfect match, his other side, his very own light in the world of darkness. He would love them more than anyone else on the planet and would find endless happiness in the hours they spent together, a yearning to grow old together.
But everything that Dan had learnt when he was growing up was a lie.
No, his soulmate hated him, absolutely despised him. He liked to pick on Dan and make his life a living hell. The words on Dan’s chest meant absolutely nothing because it was probably said out of sarcasm. Phil Lester wanted to kiss his dimples? Fucking please. The first thing that Phil had done when he’d seen Dan was called him a name, attacking those very dimples that he supposedly wanted to ‘kiss’. Maybe if they were in another universe, Dan could have grown to love Phil. But in this one?
The world had made the biggest mistake. He wanted to rip the tattoo right off of his chest.
The day he found out, he stopped looking at himself in the mirror when he was shirtless. He couldn’t stand to see his soulmate tattoo, the very thing that had made him so happy when he first saw it. Every time he even caught a glance of it, he felt the thing burn, itching at his skin, taunting him. He hated it.
That was the same day he began to avoid Phil in the halls. Every time he saw him, he would walk the other way. He wouldn’t go to the dumpster to smoke because there was a chance he could see Phil, and he would wait in his last class after school until everyone had piled out and he was the only one left besides the janitor. Only then would he leave, heading home with his head down low and his heart heavy.
He didn’t care if he never saw Phil again.
-
“Phil, you’ve been moping for the last two weeks. What’s up dude?”
Phil sighed, frustrated, and turned to Cat. She had a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. With just that look, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to lie to her and ran a hand through his fringe. “It’s Dan,” he muttered, embarrassed. He couldn’t believe the guy was causing him such grief, especially since he’s such an asshole. Why would he care about him at all?
“Dan Howell?” Cat asked. She seemed surprised, taken aback. Last she heard, Phil hated Dan. And she was right. Partially. “What the hell has he got to do with anything?”
Shrugging, Phil took a drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out on the heel of his black boot. It was lunch break and they were hanging out by the car park, having abandoned the dumpster when that teacher had found Dan and Phil throwing punches at each other. “He’s been ignoring me lately. Won’t even look at me and seems to have completely disappeared from school.”
“So? You hate the guy, right?”
“Yeah, but it kind of bothers me, you know?” Phil groaned, throwing his hands in the air with exasperation. “I kind of liked picking on him and now he’s completely disappeared from the face of the Earth. The Dan Howell I know wouldn’t back off so easily, and I know I definitely didn’t hurt him bad enough to make him want to avoid me.”
Cat hummed, tsking. She seemed a bit uninterested but Phil didn’t mind. He knew she secretly cared, even though she put on a huge act as to not show it. “Did he give any hints during the fight for why he’d just start to diss you? Maybe you did hurt him. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to get another detention.”
Phil furrowed his eyebrows, trying hard to think. The fight was a bit fuzzy in his mind because of how fast it had happened. One moment, he was teasing Dan and the next, he was on the ground with Dan throwing punches at his face. Nothing really stood out to him. Except when Dan had stopped, he supposed. That was a bit weird. He remembered the way Dan’s fist was wrapped tightly in Phil’s shirt, his other fist poised to punch Phil. His eyes were angry, flickering down at Phil’s chest where his hand was bundled in his shirt, and then he had froze. He had seemed frightened, spooked, like he’d seen a ghost. Then he’d lowered his hand, touched his own chest, opened his mouth, and… nothing. The teacher had come and torn them apart, screaming ‘detention’ in their faces. Phil relayed this all to Cat, watching as she nodded, rubbing her lips with newly-applied lipstick.
“Well, what was he looking at?”
“He looked at my chest?” Phil asked confused, he touched the spot where Dan’s eyes had flickered, right where his soulmate tattoo was. He blinked. Wait a second.
“Was your soulmate tattoo visible?” Cat asked.
“Um, yeah. I suppose it was. He was gripping my shirt so hard that my collar bones were showing along with my tattoo. And then he stopped punching me and touched his own-,” Phil’s eyes widened and his words caught in his throat. If he was a different person, he would probably be punching himself in the face right now. “Holy fuck,” he whispered.
Cat snorted. She covered her mouth with her hand, staring at Phil with disbelief. “And it took you two weeks to figure out that Dan Howell is your soulmate?” She shook her head. “You’re so daft sometimes, I swear.”
Phil barely registered what she was saying, his mind spinning. He now completely understood what had happened, but he didn’t quite understand why Dan wouldn’t fucking talk to him about it instead of just straight-up ignoring him. “I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.”
Phil might just be the biggest idiot on the entire planet.
-
Dan made sure to wait his extra thirty minutes after school, making sure that he didn’t come across Phil. When half three hit, he finally packed his bag and headed out of the building, humming a song to himself. He was having a pretty good day that day - he had plans with Louise to redo his nails that day and was rather looking forward to it, the black paint having almost chipped completely since the first time he’d done it.
He almost didn’t notice the figure waiting by his car, but when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks and horror filled his entire body. “Phil?” He asked, gaping. His thoughts were going a thousand miles per hour, wondering what the hell Phil wanted with him and why it looked like he was waiting for him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
For once, Phil wasn’t wearing his signature smirk. He seemed sad, his lips in a frown and his eyes the colour of a rainy day. He was still wearing that damned leather jacket and Dan was reminded of the day that he’d stopped wearing his own to school. He had stopped caring about if Phil was more badass than him, knowing fully well that he was truly a coward for running away and couldn’t keep his title anymore. “I wanted to talk to you,” Phil said. His voice was small, uncertain.
Dan crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his eyebrow. “About what?”
Phil didn’t answer at first. Instead, he crossed the distance between them and for some crazy reason, Dan thought he might kiss him. He didn’t. Instead, he reached out and yanked Dan’s shirt down, exposing the skin of Dan’s chest.
Dan yelped, jumping back, shielding his chest like he had boobs and Phil had just exposed them to the world. “Phil! What the fuck are you doing?!” He felt his heart racing, pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears like thunder.
“So it’s true,” Phil murmured. His voice was quiet and Dan stared at him blankly. “You’re my soulmate.”
The words were out in the open and for once, Dan felt naked, vulnerable. His hands were shaking and he pressed his nails into his palms, trying to stop them from doing so. His eyes were wet. “Sorry if that’s such a disappointment to you,” Dan spat, and damn it, his eyelashes were wet.
“A disappointment?” Phil’s voice was incredulous, disbelieving. Dan looked up at him through his stupid wet eyelashes, lips quivering. “Dan, is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time you’ve been avoiding me?”
Dan nodded sheepishly. Why was Phil not angry? Why was he not calling Dan names and telling him how much of a letdown he is? Why did his voice sound so… soft? He didn’t sound much like Phil Lester at all.
Phil took a deep breath, his chest rising heavily and then falling. He seemed a bit upset, and Dan couldn’t tell if it was because Dan was his soulmate or not. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were so beautiful,” he said, motioning to Dan’s chest. Dan hadn’t seen his own tattoo in weeks but he could still feel the way it was etched into his skin, almost burning. “You were smiling and your dimple was showing and I had an overwhelming urge to - ah - kiss it. I called out to you to get your number but I guess I did it wrong and made you think I was making fun of you.” He frowned and Dan was frozen, shocked. “I’m sorry I made you think you weren’t good enough to be my soulmate. Or that I wasn’t good enough to be your soulmate. I promise that’s not the case.”
Slowly, Dan relaxed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and sniffling. He was grateful that he hadn’t started full-on bawling, otherwise that’d be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. “I’m sorry about everything,” he mumbled, pushing away his pride and deciding that it was for the best and for the sake of his entire future. He conjured a small smile, albeit a bit watery. “Why don’t you say we take everything back to the beginning? We can start over and learn about each other, learn why the universe decided we were so good for each other. Maybe I can redeem myself a bit,” Dan joked.
Phil nodded, grinning. “But first,” he started, holding up a finger. “I get to see what kissing Dan Howell is like.”
Dan snorted, rolling his eyes. “Fine, but just this once. No more kisses after this until we get to know each other a little bit more and begin to properly date.”
Phil pouted, but agreed. “Deal.”
Kissing Phil Lester was not what Dan imagined it would be like. Phil looked really rough, all sharp edges and leather jackets, but his lips were soft against Dan’s and his skin was so warm. He was holding Dan with gentle hands around his waist, pulling him in and making Dan feel like maybe the universe had gotten at least one thing right after all.
When they pulled away, Dan blinked in surprise. Kissing Phil had been really pleasant, strangely sweet and tasting of cigarette smoke. He was mostly surprised that he wanted to do it again.
“Well even if you’re a twat, at least you’re a good kisser. No wonder the universe chose you as my soulmate.” Despite his words, Phil’s eyes were bright and he was grinning, voice tinged with sarcasm. He was joking and Dan shoved him, glaring at him, but he was laughing, voice loud in the emptiness of the car park.
“I fucking hate you, Phil Lester,” he said.
“I hate you too, Dan Howell.”
And this time, they didn’t actually mean it.