i really wanted to do them all quickly but i feel super shitty about my art lmao

Pining Painters

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1575

Summary: Dan and Phil are both artists in an after school gifted program. Each have completely different and unique styles, differing from each other completely in every way. They hate each other, until one day, Phil peeks over Dan’s shoulder and see’s that Dan is sketching of picture of them together, cuddling. And suddenly, to Phil, it’s clear Dan doesn’t hate him as much as he initially thought.

A/N: Lmao I wrote this in 39 minutes while @phantasticrandomness was napping and it’s really shitty and I hate that there’s no dialog but it is a really cute and fluffy fic.

There’s this after school program for kids who are ‘gifted’ that I really enjoy going to. I guess my only real issue with it is this kid, Dan, who I’ve been in competition with all this entire school year. We’re both artists, with completely different styles. I guess mine is more of a modern style with a, well, I describe it as a renaissance twist. Because the renaissance was this time where after the dark ages, art and writing and reading and everything that is artistic was reborn and starting to be relearned, which is beautiful to me. So of course, I keep my art in with modern styles but I always make sure they’re colorful as can be, which is the renaissance twist. I use shapes, objects, figures, and shadows of different color and shades in my work. Dan, his artistic style, was opposite mine. He used dark colors, bent on believing that royal blues and blacks and greys and dark colors were prettier and more artistic than bright colors. His signature thing was using calligraphy, writing a quote across the page from the top corner to the bottom corner going diagonal. All of these quotes could either be modern, or dated back to the 14th century, all depending on how Dan feels. My signature thing was shadows. There was always shadows in my paintings or sketches. I typically use shadows of figures, like a tree, or an animal, or a fading sunset. It all depended on what fit the drawing.
But since the beginning of the year when I was accepted into this program, Dan and I have been in a constant battle of who can do better at art. Whatever we were painting or sketching, Dan was always trying to make his better than mine. Sometimes I’d win, and sometimes he’d win. It all depended on how much inspiration we had, how much time we took, and just how much we hated each other while doing it. In class, I sat behind him. Which meant I could always see what he was doing. But I usually didn’t care. I mean, what could he be drawing that matters more than what I was doing. Though sadly, the fact of the matter was, as much as I couldn’t stand him for always trying to do better than me, I had a huge crush on him. He was really attractive, really funny and smart, he was as talented as can be too. He was everything and more I could want in someone. And we had mutual friends, I know I have a lot in common with him. But he hates me, and I hate him. Which is how it should stay.

But Dan was so beautiful when he painted, I couldn’t help but stare. He was painting this grey and black tree. It stood tall across the page, his branches were all various shades of greys. Its bark was dark grey and the leaves were falling off, all of them black. The sky of his painting was royal blue and dark, dark purple with white and gold dots fading into it as stars. He was concentrating on painting the grass, using a deep green, like a sea foam color. He was dabbing across the page with three different sponges, using three different colors and blending them for texture and shade. He hair was back up off his face, so you could see his forehead wrinkles which were super cute. His shirt and jeans were covered in paint, as was his arms and cheeks. He was sweating slightly, he as obviously really passionate about this painting. After he had finally finished, he wrote his quote across the page. It had dried fairly quickly, he always painted in the corner by the window to make sure of that. After he finished and let it dry, he wrote his quote across the page, in large gold letters, “I’d give you my heart, and I’d let you just hold it. I’d give you my soul, but I already sold it.”

That was a deep quote in my eyes. I didn’t know where the hell it came from, but man was it deep. Dan must have had a crush on someone. He’s gay, that much I know. I just wish I knew what guy he liked for him to be thinking about quotes like that and then turning in the piece. Maybe he was interested in someone in our friend group, I wasn’t personally friends with him but I was friends with all his friends much like how he’s friends with all of mine. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult to figure out who Dan likes.
A few days later, I was sitting behind Dan like I always did while the teacher told us about our next project. All of our projects we got to choose how we did them, but they were always based off of one worded subjects that we would use as our inspiration. This week’s subject was torment. I was listening closely, the teacher was explaining how we need to create a piece that represents pain, suffering and tragedy. Paint out a representation of the main torment of our hearts. But as he spoke about how we should paint this subject, I noticed Dan wasn’t paying attention. So I leaned forward quietly, about to whisper a ‘hey asshole, pay attention.’ Until, I saw what he was drawing. He was sketching a detailed picture; in the picture he was laying across a male figures lap. There were flowers around them, and I think a pond of sorts. It was cold out I think because him and this male figure were wearing jackets. I watched him finish this sketch, closely watching him until he finally finished and wrote a quote across the page, which I hadn’t previously known he also did with sketches. He scrawled the words “Spent a half an hour, sitting at the bottom of my shower, wanting to get up but dammit I didn’t have the power”. Across the page in pretty, neat and thick black cursive lettering. But then, he did something else. On the male figures jacket, one I assumed to be his crush, he wrote sideways going up and down it, ‘Phil Lester’

I instantly slumped back in my seat. He liked me. I was his crush. He closed his sketchbook and looked around the room, sighing softly. I guess he thought he was in the clear and thinking no one saw him drawing. But I did. I got out my notebook, the one I usually wrote down my ideas for a piece on. I quickly scribbled out a note for Dan. Once we were dismissed to go to the art hall where all our stations and supplies were set up, I tossed the note onto Dan’s desk, quickly walking off to my area.

Didn’t know you fancied me so much, Howell. Care to get coffee after we finish up here and chat? I know we hate each other, but I have a feeling we really don’t. So coffee? Xxx

I saw the blush spread across his cheeks as I watched him from the other side of the room, him glancing in my direction and nodding softly, his cheeks bright pink and he put the note in my pocket and I smiled. I had a coffee date with Dan Howell.

About three hours later, we had been all working our asses off to get our projects started up. My paint shirt was stained with reds and pinks and lilac colors, and Dan’s with blues and greens and black. After clean up, I walked over to Dan and smiled at him. We walked down to the local Starbucks, ordering and then sitting down towards the back. His cheeks were still flushed a pale pink, he was obviously nervous.

“Don’t worry, Dan. I don’t bite.” I smiled softly at him, reaching over and patting his hand.

“It’s just we hate each other and you asked me out…” He mumbled and I laughed softly, shrugging.

“I sit behind you, Dan. I can see when you’re drawing me.” I said with a slight smugness in my tone and he turned crimson, leaning down and drinking his coffee, trying to use his hoodie sleeves to hide his face.

“I just really like you and your art is really cute and has a romantic feel.” He murmured, clearly embarrassed and as I could do was chuckle and hum in amusement at him.

“You’re cute Dan.” I smiled and he blushed yet again, looking down. This Dan was a lot less cocky and arrogant than the Dan who was always trying to beat me in art competitions.

“Thank you.” He blushed.

​After our date, I walked him home. He asked me shyly if I could hold his hand, to which I did. He was a lot different than he seems when he’s trying to beat you at something. We really did have a lot in common. And who knows, maybe after dating a while, my art with have a brand new theme to it. Maybe my art will have a romantic tone to it, like Dan says it already does. But maybe, it isn’t a romantic feel that it has, it just has a romantic feel for Dan. Because my art, each new painting all coming together as a whole, my art is me, in detailed and colorful in pictures.