Work Text:
One thing about working at the local swimming pool, especially during the summertime, is that you are almost guaranteed to have at least one incredibly hot coworker.
Phil had worked that out on his first day on the job, having been met with the face of none other than Dan Howell as his shift partner.
Phil is certain he'd gone about as red as the uniforms, almost instantly.
A great first impression, for sure.
It's a bit easier, now, two months into the routine of it all. He'd grown used to Dan - the sight of his sculpted torso when he took his shirt off, the perfect curls of his hair, the frankly unfair length of his eyelashes.
To be clear, he hadn't grown tired of it - he's not sure he ever could - but it was normal now, to an extent.
He'd clock in to work at whatever hour of the day, nine times out of ten running into Dan arriving at exactly the same time as him.
They'd make their way to the locker rooms together, chatting about anything and everything that came to mind, and then they'd change into their uniforms. Together. In the same room.
The first time it had happened, Phil swears he almost collapsed on the spot.
He wasn't an insecure man when it came to his own appearance, he knew he was attractive, but in comparison to Dan's physique… well. It's safe to say Dan was on a whole different level.
Luckily for Phil, they'd become friends quite quickly, between having more in common than not and spending so many hours within each other's close vicinity every week, it was almost guaranteed to happen at some point.
Occasionally, they'd hang out outside of work, too. Or, at least, it started off as occasional.
They'd order pizza and play marathons of mario kart, or go to the museum and see who could spot a dog in a painting first. Sometimes, after a long day or a movie night that went on a little later than planned, they'd sleep over at each other's flats, in each other's beds.
For convenience. That's all.
And yeah, okay, they ended up with a drawer in each other's dressers for their own clothes, their own toothbrushes in the other's bathroom, their own snacks in the fridge.
But it was convenient.
You never know when you're going to need any of those things. It's just good planning.
Convenience. Yeah.
All of this was fine. All things Phil could be normal about, for the most part. The problem, not that that was really the right word for it, was the tension.
It wasn't a bad kind of tension. Of course not. It was more of the… homoerotic kind, and it was building, ramping up like the summer heat.
At first, Phil thought he might be imagining it, the way Dan's eyes caught on his lips when he licked them, or the way they always ended up sat closer together than they had started off.
But as time went on, it became more and more obvious that it was real.
He wasn't really sure what to do about it. Dan was his coworker, after all. Messing things up could make them incredibly awkward for the both of them, and there's no way Phil could afford to be without a job.
So, he played the part. He kept up the dynamic, observed from what he hoped was a safe, respectable distance, and wondered if one day, they would ever be something more.
One day comes in the form of a sweltering hot Thursday afternoon.
There's been a heatwave in the UK, with highs in the mid-30s, and so naturally, the pool is heaving with people.
The two of them have been on duty since the late morning, unfortunately timed to be on the receiving end of the highest temperatures of the day with precious little shade afforded to them.
They spend the day moving as little as possible, well-trained eyes keeping watch over the pool through tinted sunglasses, their biggest jobs of the day being stopping careless children from running along the poolside.
Finally, as day begins to morph into early evening, their shift comes to an end.
Like clockwork, their replacement lifeguards, PJ and Sophie, make their way out of the locker rooms, exactly on the hour. One by one, they swap out, sharing the few important things they had to be aware of for this particular shift.
Phil watches across the other side of the pool as Dan trades places with Sophie, giving her a kind smile as he heads off.
He says goodbye to PJ, who offers him a fist bump for good measure, and then wanders along the edge of the poolside towards the reception building.
"Hey," Phil greets, as he times his arrival at the staff-only door to be perfectly in sync with Dan. For convenience.
Dan smiles, typing in the pass-code and swinging the door open dramatically for Phil. "After you."
"Why, thank you," Phil says, attempting his most over-the-top graceful walk as he passes.
Dan lets out a low chuckle at his antics. "Anything for you."
Even now, fully expectant of Dan's bordering-romantic comments, Phil's breath still catches in his throat at the words. His cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink, and he has to dip his head slightly to hide it.
"Doing anything tonight?" He asks as he heads for the lockers, hoping to move the conversation along into safer territory.
"Is that an invitation?" Dan responds, tugging his locker open easily while Phil wrestles with his.
Finally, he gets it open. "It can be if you want it to be."
Dan nods. "Then yes."
"My flat or yours?" Phil asks, before he has a chance to think through the implications.
Dan whistles. "At least ask me to dinner first."
"Shut up," Phil laughs, playfully slapping Dan's shoulder. His blush has come back with a vengeance. "You knew what I meant."
"I did," Dan agrees, pulling his shirt off like it's nothing. Phil feels his mouth go dry. "But where's the fun in that?"
"Yeah, okay." Phil turns slightly, pulling his own shirt over his head. "You didn't answer the question."
"Yours. S'closer."
"Thank god," Phil says, earning a laugh out of Dan. "I do not want to walk any further than I have to in this heat."
"Oh, Philly," Dan teases with a pout. "Are you gonna need me to carry you?"
Phil, miraculously, manages to maintain his composure. "Yeah, actually. Bridal style. Whole way."
Dan lets out a cackle, caught off-guard by Phil's deadpan response.
"I'm sure you could do it," Phil adds. "I've seen your arms."
He realises as he says it how flirtatious that last comment comes across, but it's too late now.
"Oh, yeah?" Dan asks, raising an eyebrow. "Been eyeing me up, have you?"
Phil splutters. "No! I'm not blind, s'all."
"Well…" Dan laughs.
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Phil huffs, but he's smiling.
They carry on their usual back and forth as they change back into their everyday clothes, Phil careful to avert his eyes as much as possible, but powerless to stop himself from sneaking a few glances every now and then.
Soon enough, their bags are packed, they've clocked out, and they're walking side-by-side - entirely too close, Phil might add - down the pavement towards Phil's flat.
It's still mid-summer, so the sun hasn't even thought about setting yet, but the heat is beginning to feel a bit more bearable by the time they make it in the front door.
"Drink?" Phil asks, slinging his bag down onto the hallway floor and heading straight for the kitchen. Dan follows suit, feeling almost as at home in Phil's flat as Phil does.
Phil tries not to think about that part too hard.
"I'll have whatever you're having," Dan replies, and it's exactly what Phil had expected him to say.
He pulls two glasses out of the cupboard, pouring a sturdy layer of ribena, filling the rest with water.
Wordlessly, he passes one to Dan, who's stood directly behind him, leaning against the opposite counter.
He takes a sip as he does so, watching as Dan watches the cup move to his lips, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. He smiles, and almost bursts out in laughter when he notices the exact moment Dan realises he's been clocked.
"Th- uh, thanks," Dan says, voice breaking. He raises his own glass, only to immediately choke as he tries to take a sip.
"Oh my god," Phil can't help but laugh, caught by surprise. "Are you okay?"
Dan just coughs in response, throwing in a thumbs up for reassurance's sake.
"Don't die," Phil instructs, helpfully. "I'd have to use my CPR training when I'm not even on the clock."
For some reason, this just causes Dan to cough harder.
Phil gives him a few firm slaps on the back, careful not to fall on the side of too forceful, laying his other hand supportively on Dan's bicep.
Supportive.
That's all.
No other reason.
When Dan regains his composure, he's a little red in the cheeks, and he's looking at Phil a bit funny.
Phil takes a small step back, suddenly all too aware of their proximity. "You good?"
"I… yeah. Sorry, don't know what happened there," Dan laughs, embarrassed.
"S'okay," Phil says. "You didn't make me do CPR, so I can't complain."
Dan pauses.
"Would you?"
Phil pauses, too.
"Would I what?"
"Complain."
"If I had to do CPR? No, of course not. It's a joke."
"No," Dan says. "If you had to do CPR on me."
Phil frowns. "Yeah, I think I would complain if you went and died on me."
Dan sighs. "That's not what I mean."
"What do you mean?"
"If you…" Dan trails off, takes a deep breath. "Y'know, if you had to do… uh, mouth-to-mouth. On me."
Phil goes quiet. He feels his entire body go completely still. He's not even sure he's breathing now.
"Would you complain?" Dan prompts.
"I…" Phil can't help but wonder how he ended up in this situation. He sighs, hoping to all things holy he's not drastically misreading what's happening here. "No, I wouldn't."
Dan lets out a breath he looks like he's been holding for a while.
"Good," He says, and the next thing Phil knows, he's leaning in.
Dan's lips are almost overwhelmingly warm, just like the rest of him. They're chapped and broken, but still somehow the softest lips Phil has ever felt. He tastes faintly of ribena, and Phil wants to drink in every drop.
Phil sighs into the kiss, feeling the way Dan's breath catches at the sensation. His hands rise to find purchase on the defined muscles of Dan's upper arms, shamelessly exploring the toned flesh. Dan's hands land in Phil's hair in response, tugging just enough to let him know they're there, but not enough to hurt.
They move together like a wave crashing against the shoreline; a magnetic push-and-pull that falls into sync without need for practice, like an innate, natural instinct for motion neither of them can fight against.
When, eventually, they pull apart for air, they don't stray far from each other, foreheads pressed together like any distance between them is simply too much now they know what it's like to be so close.
"Wow," Phil breathes, not really meaning to say it out loud, but powerless to stop it.
"Yeah," Dan whispers back. "I was just thinking the same thing."
With a smooth slide of his hands, Dan repositions his grip to surround Phil's waist, and Phil feels himself gasp at the contact.
"Okay?" Dan whispers, pulling back far enough to look into Phil's eyes as he asks.
"Yes," Phil says, more of an exhale than a word, but it's enough confirmation for Dan, who pulls him back towards him, their bodies flush together as their lips meet.
It's more heated the second time around, nipping at each other's lips, soothing the sting with their tongues, the breathy little sounds that follow.
Dan pushes Phil backwards by his waist, never once breaking the kiss, until Phil hits the opposite counter with a dull thump.
He gasps, pulling away for air. Dan's eyes are darker than usual, pupils blown so wide there's barely a sliver of brown left.
He gives Phil a sly smile, and before Phil has time to react, he's lifting him into the air - bridal style, just like he'd joked about.
"Dan!" Phil shrieks, but he's laughing. His arms instinctively wrap around Dan's neck, though he knows, somehow, Dan won't drop him.
"Yes, princess?" Dan says, faux-innocently.
The pet name brings Phil's brain to a screeching halt. It's enough to shut him up completely, his jaw slightly slack.
"Thought so," Dan laughs, and continues to carry Phil down the hall into his bedroom.
With a carefulness Phil's never seen from Dan, not even at the pool, Dan places him down in the centre of the bed, climbing over him slowly enough to not crush him beneath his sudden presence.
"Hi," Phil giggles, looking up at Dan.
"Hi."
"You're pretty," Phil whispers.
"Have you seen yourself lately?" Dan responds, leaning forward to kiss the laugh that escapes Phil's lips.
"That's so cliché," Phil complains, but he's still smiling.
Dan snorts. "Oh, I'm sorry. You want me to come up with something completely original every time, huh?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"Only the best for you, princess."
Even the second time, it sends a thrill directly down Phil's spine.
He'd never considered himself one for pet names before this, but whatever is happening in this moment has him seriously reconsidering that.
Phil leans up to press his lips against Dan's once more, tangling his hands in his mullet to pull him closer, mumbling against his lips.
"Hmm?" Dan asks.
"I just want you."
Dan smiles, his eyes crinkling. He brushes the hair away from Phil's eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead before looking down at him with the fondest look Phil thinks he's ever seen.
"You've got me."
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