Fandom: YouTube
Pairing: Phan (AmazingPhil/Danisnotonfire)



Ice-cream; Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough, to be precise. Something that the Lester-Howell household is never without. Phil makes sure of that. Even if he has to go out in the early hours of the morning to trek to the nearest twenty-four-hour convenience shop.

Why?

Dan, Phil’s best friend and flatmate. Phil’s sweet, awkward and irresistibly hot little flatmate. He’s the reason not only for Phil buying the ice-cream, but for pretty much everything else that Phil does; it’s all for his best friend, just as everything that Dan does is for Phil, in some way or another. Back to the ice-cream though, Phil makes doubly sure that their freezer is never without it for the sake of his best friend, the very same best friend that can’t seem to be able to spend a whole week without getting his heart broken by some stupid dickhead.

Every Monday Dan will come home from work with an adorably massive (massively adorable) grin on his face and a sickeningly dreamy glint to his eyes, babbling on about how What’shisface is perfect or about how Thingymajiggy is nothing short of a heaven-sent angel. Phil will just nod along with it, silently willing for this boy to be ‘The One’ just as he has willed the pas one-hundred-and-fifty-four boys to waltz their way into Dan Howell’s delicate little heart. Yet by Friday, Saturday at the latest, Phil knows that he’ll wind up with a lapful of sobbing, heartbroken best friend in need of Phil to hold him and feed him the welcome comfort of his beloved Ben & Jerry’s.

And then the cycle will start again on Monday, just as it always does. With Phil watching from the side-lines, silently screaming, “I’m here! I’m here!”


*****


Today is Monday and Phil is sat on the sofa, ready to have his ear chewed-off as Dan babbles on about whatever boy will be breaking his heart by the end of the week. At the thought a firework of emotion detonates in the pit of Phil’s stomach, blossoming into different branches of negativity; jealousy, anger, fear, hatred.

But the brightest spark of all, by far, is love. Unadulterated, unbridled love for his younger best friend.

Last week’s was the worst so far, in Phil’s opinion. The arsehole had sent Dan home wailing, chest heaving as though he was choking on the misery of being dumped for the one-hundred-and-fifty-fifth time. Not even ice-cream seemed to help, or Phil’s offer of having a ‘pretend sleepover’ in the lounge together with a shit tonne of Buffy DVDs. Yet Dan woke up this morning, as he always does on a Monday, and strode of to work with a smile on his face.

God, Phil thinks, Dan’s smile.

And that’s all his brain has time to process before the sound of a door being shut rings out, followed by the footsteps that somehow remind Phil of an over-excited puppy rushing to see his master for the first time in weeks.

“I’m home!” Dan all but sings as he waltzes into the living room, plopping himself down next to Phil, kicking his legs up so that they’re resting in Phil’s lap.

If Dan notices Phil’s blush, he doesn’t say anything about it. Phil makes no move to push Dan’s legs away, so the younger just leans back against the arm rest, making himself comfortable and using his dutiful best friend as some kind of mattress for his lower half.

“Yes, I can see that.” Phil replies, trying his best to sound annoyed but only succeeding in making himself sound a little too happy that Dan’s finally home. “How was your day?”

“Aw, Phil! You sound like a wife.” Dan giggles, that honey-sweet sound that makes Phil shiver at it’s all-encompassing warmth, and swings his legs down. Phil immediately misses the gentle weight of Dan resting on him, but swallows that thought when Dan shimmies up to be next to him, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and clinging onto his arm like it’s a cherished childhood teddy bear. “My wife, right Philly?”

The addressed just rolls his eyes, the indifferent intent of his action being completely ruined by the blazing blush engulfing his cheeks, and tries his best not to let out a laugh. Because to do something like that, to let out the nervous chuckle that is fighting to break free, would most likely put the last nail in his coffin, so to speak; it would give him away, would give his silly schoolgirl infatuation away.

“How was your day, Dan?” Phil repeats the question, silently begging Dan to not pick up on any of his tell-tale signs of being completely smitten with the younger boy. “Meet anyone?”

“You know I did, Phil! I meet people every day, serving them at work, you know that!” Dan stops to think, grin faltering ever so slightly as he nuzzles at Phil’s shoulder, the meaningless act of affection making Phil’s heart race like a terrified bunny rabbit. “Oh, you mean did I fall in love with anyone.”

Phil nods his response, subconsciously holding his breath at the steady gleam in Dan’s eyes and gentle smirk on his soft lips; he’s never seen his best friend look like this before when talking about the other guys.

Maybe this time he really is The One.

“Well, yes. I did.”

And that’s it, no elaboration or hours of swooning over his new Prince Charming. Just those four words and that’s it.


*****


It’s Wednesday, Dan’s day off. Normally, this would be the day of the week that he’d spend with his new suitor, usually the night too and then come back early on Thursday morning, reeking of sweat and a scent that Phil has come to associate with sex.

So Phil is extremely surprised, if not a little bit grateful, to wake up at eleven o’clock to find Dan making him pancakes for breakfast, a content smile gracing his lips in greeting when he sees Phil walk out of his bedroom. Dan’s still dressed as he was when he went to bed; socks and boxers and nothing else. Sure, Phil’s seen him like this before, yet the sight never fails to make him think very impure thoughts about his slim, tanned best friend.

“Good morning.” Dan beams at him, carrying a plate heaped with syrup-drenched pancakes over to the older of the two, sat on their beloved sofa. “Pancake?”

Phil grins, then nods and goes to pick up the fork on the plate. Before he can get to it, however, Dan’s grabbed it, scooped up some pancake and is holding it to Phil’s gawping mouth; Dan, cute and lovely and beautiful Dan, is feeding him. Not knowing what else to do, the black haired boy accepts the offering, chewing it and savouring it’s slightly gooey goodness.

“Delicious.” Dan hums happily in response to the praise, his own smiling going up a few watts to an impossibly sunny beam of joy. “But don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The question isn’t said with any degree of venom or malice, not intentionally anyway, but Phil can’t even pretend to ignore the flash of hurt that tears across Dan’s face at the question. Phil doesn’t even understand why, just swallows his last mouthful of pancake and quirks an eyebrow in confusion.

“No, it’s Wednesday.” Dan breathes out slowly, then paints his usual smile back onto his face. “I don’t work on Wednesdays, silly.”

“I know that.” The talker shifts awkwardly, regretting ever having started down the line of this conversation. “What I mean is, shouldn’t you be with your boy? You always are on a Wednesday. Y’know, staying over the night and having s-“

“I want to spend the day with you. If that’s alright.”

There’s a bitter edge to the words and anyone else would pick up on it, but Phil never has been known for an overabundance of wisdom and/or social understanding.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you rather be, y’know, getting laid?”

Dan’s brown eyes rocket open, the earlier look of hurt giving birth to a look of hurt anger, the worse type of anger, Phil thinks. Especially when coming from Dan, who shouldn’t ever, ever be hurt. For Phil’s part he at least has the good grace to look somewhat sheepish.

“Is that seriously all you think of me? That I’m some… some stupid slut?”

Phil wants to say something nice, something comforting and reassuring and that, no, of course he doesn’t think that of Dan. But it’s early in the morning on a Wednesday and Dan is shouting at him, getting him riled-up for one of their rare, yet vicious, fights.

“If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.” Phil all but snarls, not fully understand how this has even turned into an argument. “Or in your case, if it looks like a slut and screws like a slut, then it’s a slut.”

“Just because you’re still a virgin.”

And with that, Dan throws the plate of pancakes to the floor and storms to his bedroom, leaving Phil to try to figure out exactly what has just happened.


*****

Now it’s Thursday. Or rather, it is literally just Thursday, at five past midnight. And Phil hasn’t spoken to or seen Dan since their stupid, petty argument. Phil’s tried to talk to Dan, of course he has, but every time he gets within a foot of the other’s bedroom door something screams at him to stop, that he’ll just muck it up again and push his precious Dan even further away. So he’s mostly just stayed in his room, as has Dan.

But now it’s a new day and he knows that he can’t let it go on. Sure, it might only be five – now six – minutes into the new day, but still; this is killing Phil and something has to be done. By Phil. To make Dan happy again, like he was this morning when he said that he just wanted to spend the day with Phil.

At that particular memory, the one of Dan saying that he just wanted to be with Phil, the older can’t help but grimace; his best friend, not to mention the love of his life, was trying to be nice to him and he just called him a slut. Great.

Not being able to stand it any longer, Phil springs out of bed and out of his room, fully intent on storming into Dan’s room and apologizing until his throat bleeds. Or until Dan forgives him, whatever happens first.

Phil stops though, when he goes past their kitchen; someone’s in there. And that someone is talking to himself.

“Stupid slut. Pushed away your best friend. Pushed away Phil.” The voice lets out a whimper, one that completely knocks the air out of Phil’s lungs. “As if he would ever love you. Stupid slut.”

And just like that, Phil has sprinted into the kitchen, arms wide open as he collides with Dan, holding the startled, crying boy to his chest. As Dan slowly hugs back, Phil takes a moment to look around; the freezer is open and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough is out on the counter.

Something snaps in Phil and, all of a sudden, he gets it. Gets what this whole week has been about.

“I love you.”

Phil’s words are rushed and shaky, but they’re more than enough to make Dan stop, look up and smile like he’s never smiled before.

“And I’m so sorry about earlier, really I am.” Phil takes Dan’s silence as a sign and quickly aims to peck the younger boy’s lips, something he’s ached to do for months, but Phil being Phil, he misses and gets the tip of Dan’s nose instead. It makes Dan giggle though, so Phil figures he doesn’t mind all that much. “I love you.”

Just like that, both boys know that ice-cream will never need to be a constant supply in their home anymore. Because Phil will never break Dan’s heart.

Just as Dan will never break Phil’s.