Officer Rogers (Captain Hook) Season 7 Custom Funko
So I love doing funkos in uniform and this was a great little thing to do. He uses a 12th doctor head because Colin seems to have a bit of a neater trim to his facial hair in the Hyperion Heights scenes so I didn’t want to use one of the standard Hook heads. His hair, and eyebrows are painted in the color I normally use for Hook. The body comes from a Pornstache funko from Orange is the New Black. He’s painted with Seattle police uniform colors with little patches a tiny badge and name badge and one hand in a glove for his prosthetic.
I will take commissions to replicate this funko, please contact privately to discuss price as the market for the figures in which I make these out of can change wildly. Ask me about my etsy shop.
I’m writing this as a reference post because there’s a tendency among straight Dean stans to just round up a bunch of gifs without context as though that somehow constitutes an argument.
To start off, Dean Winchester has never called himself “heterosexual” or “straight” on the show. It has never happened, not in a single episode in the ten year run of the show. The burden of proof falls on anyone who claims that he has, and it’s proof they will be unable to provide. Literally, he has never said those things. He has indicated it euphemistically, but that’s another thing, and we’ll get to that.
Eric Kripke, the show’s creator, has likewise never called Dean Winchester straight. He did, in one round table interview at Comic Con in 2013, say that he thought the dynamic between Sam and Dean (who are brothers) is not unlike the dynamic between Sebastian and Miles from Revolution (being the topic of the interview), who are two straight men - as regards the unstated homoerotic subtext between the pairs of characters. But on Dean Winchester’s sexuality he has never commented upon, other than admitting that he named him after an iconic bisexual character: Dean Moriarty. The only indication of what Eric Kripke thinks about Dean Winchester’s sexuality can be found in the episodes he’s written.
Now let’s look at what passes as proof of Dean’s exclusive heterosexuality:
To start us off with, ‘swinging that way’ is a euphemism that could well refer to erotic attraction to males. But it could just as well refer to anonymous hook-ups with random strangers off the side of the road.
But if you think this scene has anything to do with Dean Winchester’s sexuality then you, my friend, are simply reading the scene wrong. The scene has nothing whatsoever to do with sex or sexuality. I mean, it might reflect on Dean’s sexuality if he earnestly believed the man was propositioning him and he felt the need to assert his heterosexuality. If that is how you choose to read the scene, then you must contend that he isn’t much of a hunter.
But let us assume that he is a hunter, and a good one at that, and he’s correctly reading the suspicious intentions behind the surface-friendly request by a figure claiming authority in the situation. Dean feels threatened by the man, not only because his hunter’s instincts are telling him there’s all kinds of wrong in the situation and how the man is not following the script of usual social conduct, but just in the fact that he is standing up and Dean is sitting down, which gives him the dominant social role in this interaction.
Because in that scenario Dean’s behavior is better interpreted as a strategy. And to understand this strategy, you must note the contrast between what Dean is saying and what Dean is doing. He’s saying he isn’t interested in the proposition. What he’s doing is attempting to use his charm, his youthful good looks, and flirtation to get out of the situation unharmed. He’s engaging in defensive flirting to get out of a threatening situation, a strategy employed by women, and men of oppressed minorities, all over the globe.
If you’re interested in Dean’s sexuality, you’re better observing his interactions with Mark. This is a Shiban episode, after all.
You’re making an assumption that the swinging here refers to sexual orientation, when it might just easily refer to the bondage scene. But that’s beside the point, because this banter is about dominance posturing, not about the sexuality of any of the participants. Dean isn’t inferring that he thinks the agent is a kinky son of a bitch or that himself and Sam are staunch upstanding heterosexuals, it’s not even remotely about that. He is telling the agent that he is unperturbed by this current state of affairs (which he most definitely isn’t, once he and Sam are alone).
Agent Hendricksen, who has told them in no uncertain terms that he thinks their father was a survivalist whacko who probably bad touched them as children, is the last person Dean Winchester would volunteer private information about himself. If you don’t understand the dynamics in this scene and think this is about Dean Winchester asserting his heterosexuality, I can’t help you. But I will ask you to take a look at a similar scene in 2.19 where the only difference is that Dean feels like he’s in control: he blatantly flirts with the arresting officers.
In the same episode, we also get a shot of Dean checking out Officer Amici’s ass (the camera actually pans on his ass) for what appears to be no reason. Later, the demon Ruby comes in and starts talking about sacrificing a virgin, and Ruby looks at the male officer, twice, like he’d do, she could sacrifice the officer, the officer is a virgin. But the officer looks at the virgin girl Nancy like he thinks she’s the only virgin in the room. Ergo, Ruby thought the officer was some kind of virgin that Dean wasn’t.
The thing about the episode that is significant is that the magicians were professional cold readers. Cold reading is something Dean and Sam also do for their job, but these old magicians were better at it, they’d been doing it for a long time. And these magicians assumed that Dean Winchester was a closeted FBI agent.
The reason for their sending Dean to the underground gay club seems to have been because they saw right through him. It was to teach him a lesson, to send him a warning: they know his secret, so he better leave them alone. The magicians recognized Dean’s queerness, and this is why they devised this particular run-around for him. They likely would never have sent Sam there.
Dean’s reaction is also interesting. Dean most definitely gags upon seeing the Chief. You can interpret that as being a reaction toward the gay aspect, in which case you have to contend with him checking the bouncer out when he first enters the club. Or you can interpret it as a reaction to the idea of torture, seeing how he was fresh out of hell. Dealer’s choice. But at the end of the day, both professional cold readers and an actual psychic (Jimmy Tomorrow) have read the man as swinging that way.
“Save it for the health club,“ Dean Smith tells Sam Wesson. Dean Smith is a health club regular.
“Look, man, I told you, I’m not into the, uh—
,“ Dean Smith tells Sam Wesson, a bulking huge stranger that accosts him in a closed space for the second time.
Note the definite article.
“The gay thing“? That’s one alternative, but their first interaction suggests otherwise.
“The random anonymous hook-ups thing“? Maybe, but he is a health club regular with what sounded like a regular fuck-buddy.
“The whole office hook-up thing“? Now this sounds more likely, since Dean Smith was all about company policy, and that kind of thing would both be frowned upon and come between him and the promotion his boss was dangling in front of him.
Now, it is possible to interpret this scene as regarding Dean Winchester’s sexuality. But it’s not the only interpretation. He was a health club regular, after all.
“Sorry pal, I don’t play for your team,” Dean tells the creepy stranger that accosts him in a dark alley. Now, this is a contrast to Croatoan in that Dean may have through the man was honestly propositioning him. Unlike in Croatoan, there’s also no indication that Dean thought the man was threatening beyond your random creepy stranger. You could well interpret this euphemism as Dean asserting this heterosexuality.
Dean was, at this time, in a long-term relationship with a woman with whom he was trying hard to make a long distance relationship work. He was definitely turning the man down, and may even have thought he had gone straight. We can respect that.
In an amusing twist of events, however, Dean actually ends up playing for the vampire team in the episode. And it’s only an episode later that he describes sex between men as “sexy kind of drilling“.
If there’s a scene I’m forgetting, hook me up.
Also, just so we’re clear, Dean loves posse. No one’s saying he doesn’t. You can print that on a t-shirt.
Note the contrast between the literal and the subtextual meaning, though.
Amelia Novak was nothing but astute in her search for the perfect couple to adopt her unborn child. She was no more than a child herself, only 17, destined for college, travel, all those things late-teens are meant to experience. Motherhood had no place on her agenda.
Dean and Castiel looked to be the perfect fit. Dean was cool, easy-going, the classic ‘dad’. Amelia was almost sure of her choice as soon as she met him, could hear cringey dad jokes lolling off his tongue as easy as the alphabet.
The thing that made her absolutely certain was seeing Dean with his husband. Castiel was Dean’s antithesis, politeness and etiquette fitting snugly alongside Dean’s informality, his scruffy attire and easy smiles. Those smiles turned all the brighter when they fell upon Castiel’s stoic face. If Amelia felt a little intimidated by Castiel, the way Dean looked at him was enough to ease her nerves.
As it goes, she couldn’t have got Castiel more wrong if she tried. Once the papers were signed, sealed, delivered, it was he, not Dean, who called her, texted her almost daily for updates: how she was feeling, did she need them to get anything for her, how was the scan, did she have a copy of the ultrasound. Every time her phone buzzed, she felt another wave of affection for the guy, so well put-together, so seemingly cold-hearted, yet so endlessly caring.
He was going to be a great father.
When her due date finally arrived, baby was punctual, as if they had been marking off the days on a calendar. Amidst the contractions tearing at her insides, she managed the call,
“It’s time, get your asses to the hospital,” she gasped, clutching at the seatbelt of her father’s car, before hanging up and throwing her phone over her shoulder.
The birth was an agonising 32 hours, start to finish. According to her dad, Dean and Castiel stayed throughout the entire ordeal, hovering in the waiting room anxiously awaiting the news.
When Castiel came to visit her, his normally perfect hair was mussed all to hell, greasy from his fingers tugging at the dark strands. He bent over the bed, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them gruffly with the back of her hand.
“Remember, we said no pictures, no news-” she stuttered.
“You have our word,” Castiel placates with a warm hand to her shoulder, “you’ve done so well, Amelia. You’ve been so brave.”
“Take care of her,” Amelia whispered, and the smile she received in response was enough to send more tears hurtling burning hot down her cheeks. She lets herself be pulled into a careful hug.
Little Claire was a handful from the start.
Dean was absolutely besotted with her, couldn’t take his eyes off of her even if he tried. He particularly enjoyed his husband’s insistence that babies bond better with skin-on-skin contact. Which meant a whole lot of wandering around their cosy little house in nothing but their boxers. All the live-long day. It took him right back to when they first started dating; mornings stretching out forever in the confines of whichever bed they’d chosen the night before, waking to careful touches and warm, hesitant kisses. Cooking their dinner naked, curling up on the sofa with full bellies simply because the world didn’t expect anything else of them.
It was a long time since he’d seen Castiel completely relaxed like he’d been back then, but he saw it now. Cas hadn’t styled his hair in days, there was dried milk on his forearm, and his skin smelled faintly of baby vomit.
And Dean couldn’t think of time when he’d loved him more.
He kissed his husband almost as much as he kissed baby Claire. He’d taken to nuzzling his nose into her warm little tummy, blowing raspberries and planting little kisses as he breathed in that strangely addictive baby-smell. He was addicted to it, to her.
That being said, there were times he genuinely wondered who her paternal father was. Because, occasionally, tiny-ball-of-adorable-fluff Claire transformed into devil spawn.
First it was the sleepless nights, that shattered those first few heady days mercilessly and without warning. During the day, Dean honestly couldn’t fault her, but all of her redeeming cuteness was quickly forgotten when all the lights were off and he was curled tightly around his slightly sticky husband.
She had a cry that Dean was almost certain could be heard from Timbuktu. That could rouse bats from their cozy caves all the way in England. Almost nothing would quiet her.
Dean tried humming his favourite tunes, cradling her tight against his chest. Smoke on the water, bat out of hell, back in black, nothing seemed to work. He’d tried the old whiskey on the end of the pinky trick, much to Cas’ displeasure. He would take her around their little house whilst he fed her from the bottle, showing her photographs of her uncle Sam, grandpa Bobby and granddad John, of her dads on various trips they’d taken over the years. Their wedding album. She would scream through all of it. Castiel fared no better, and it made them downright miserable.
Days began to blend together for lack of sleep, which made Dean feel even worse when Cas’ paternity leave finally ended, and lie-ins and day-naps were no longer an option for him. Dean’s head swam with advice he’d found from his internet searches, from Ellen’s phone calls.
Then, late one Thursday, Dean was woken by something peculiar. Utter silence. He cast a glance to Claire’s cot at the end of the bed, to see his husband bent over the bars, cooing softly at their daughter. Who, for the first time in weeks, wasn’t crying.
“Hey, how’re you doing that?” Dean pouts, rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He wraps his arms tight around his husband, still wrapped in his suit from a late night at the office. He hooks his chin over Cas’ shoulder and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Claire has her podgy fingers wrapped tightly around Castiel’s tie. And she won’t let go.
“She sort of… just gripped it… help me get it off, I don’t want to wake her up again,” Cas whispers.
From then on, Claire slept soundly between feeds, the navy blue, silken tie curling around her fingers.
Then there was Claire’s alarming penchant for destruction. Starting with the rearview mirror in the Impala. Dean will never know how she managed to hit it clean off; will never be able to explain how she reached it, how there was so much power in those tiny arms, soft and rolled. He wasn’t even that mad.
Mostly he was just impressed.
And her destructive tendencies didn’t stop there. Next, it was the nice lady in the cue at the coffee shop, who’d offered to hold Claire when Dean had opted to leave the stroller in the car, but didn’t have enough hands to reach his wallet in his back pocket.
One minute, the nice lady, a Green Earth mid 50s type, had a pair of thick rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose.
The next, Claire had managed to snatch them off her face and snap them clean in two. Giggling all the while.
And then, she set her sights on destroying the Winchesters’ dignity. A relaxing weekend trip to the pool with Uncle Sam, what could be better? Claire loved Sam. She loved him. She would make grabby hands at him as soon as he came in through the door, gurgle happily whilst she pulled on his hair hard enough to make him wince.
Castiel had taken her to the baby changing unit, whilst Sam and Dean stood in the corridor waiting for him, towels slung about their shoulders, toes curling in to the damp tiles of the floor.
“She’s awesome, Dean, i’m so happy for you guys,” Sam smiles, clapping him on the shoulder.
Dean grins so hard his cheeks ache.
Castiel reappears looking a little ruffled, and that grin is wiped clean off.
Cas shifts Claire up on his hip, her finding nemo arm bands squeaking with the movement.
“She won’t poop,” Cas whispers urgently. Sam snorts, but Dean turns a glare on him.
“You won’t be laughing if she decides to do that poo in the pool, Sam,” Castiel insists, his eyes wide with panic.
Dean turns gentle eyes to his flustered husband,
“i’m sure she won’t poo in the pool, Cas, she’s a lady.”
Not ten minutes later. Ten minutes. And Sam abruptly stops bobbing Claire waist-deep in the water.
“Is that face a good face she’s making?” he says, panic edging his voice.
“That’s her poop face, alright,” Castiel affirms, as Dean hastily snatches his daughter, pretty in pink, from his brother’s arms and runs- ”hey! no running around the pool!” the lifeguard shouts- speed walks, to the changing rooms. Castiel and Sam try not to look suspicious as they make a swift exit.
Claire’s kindergarten life sees a change in living situation. Cas left his job at the office, in favour of a position that allowed him to work from home three days a week. Dean found his calling as a gym teacher at the local high school. Castiel would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate his husband in those tiny, red shorts.
And, whilst he enjoyed the shift in responsibility, the novelty began wearing off when Claire’s kindergarten would call him. Almost daily.
“Sorry to bother you again, Mr Winchester, it’s Becky… well, no not exactly… It’s just that we operate a strict no-biting policy here at Little Angels?”
“I understand that she likes her Grumpy Cat, I’m just not sure little Timmy deserved to have a cerulean pencil shoved up his nose for asking to play with it?”
“I’m not quite sure how to explain it, Mr Winchester… she just said she’d seen her fathers do it last night?”
“What about karate? Maybe we should sign her up,” Dean announces after dinner one night, “it might help her get rid of some of that aggression.”
Castiel crowds a sleeping Claire closer to his chest, “Dean she’s only 5. No, I don’t like that idea at all.”
“You don’t think she can hold her own in a martial arts class? What about Robbie last we-”
“Let’s not talk about Robbie,” Castiel cuts him off with a put-upon sigh.
“Come on, let’s at least have a look,” Dean says with a pat to Castiel’s knee, before reaching for his laptop.
Turns out, Master Chau’s classes were the best investment they’d ever made. As they watch their baby punch and kick her way through her class, they give one another a secret high five.
Claire’s early teenage years are the worst for the both of them. Claire sulks and moans, she no longer kisses Dean’s cheek, or curls up to Cas on the sofa. She rolls her eyes at Dean’s jokes, where once she would belly-laugh so hard that milk would come out of her nose.
She holes herself up in her room, blasting noisy music with angry lyrics (Castiel only knows that because of the amount of time he’s spent outside her closed door, wondering if he’s allowed to knock and see if she’s okay), and running their phone bill through the roof talking to god knows who.
After a particularly difficult dinner, brought to an abrupt end before dessert by a yelled “it’s not fucking fair!” before heavy footsteps stomped their way to their bedroom, ending the whole scene with a hearty slam of the door for good measure, Dean reaches over the table to take Cas’ hand in his.
“Hey,” he whispers, squeezing his fingers gently. Castiel wipes roughly at his cheeks, shaking his head. Dean wastes no time getting up from his chair, to crouch beside his husband’s, wrapping his arms around Cas’ hips.
“Don’t do that,” he comforts, rubbing gentle lines into Cas’ sides.
“I just don’t understand what we’re doing wrong.”
Dean can only shrug, resting his head against the soft swell of Castiel’s stomach, sighing when he feels fingers curl at the back of his neck.
“Welcome to growing up.”
Three boyfriends, a girlfriend and a handful of ‘we don’t want to label it’s whizzed by in a haze of shouting matches over homework and underage drinking, movie nights with ice cream, carpools all hours, and long Summer holidays spent with Uncle Sam, Auntie Jody and baby Alex. In the blink of an eye, Claire had grown from a destructive, kick-ass baby in a karate suit and finding nemo arm bands, to a beautiful, head-strong young woman.
A young woman who was looking at colleges.
And when she finally accepted her place at Berkley, and began her goodbyes, and her endless packing, she spotted something peculiar in her sock drawer.
“What’s this?” she turns the question to her dad, who’s elbow-deep in her wardrobe, grunting with effort as he tries to pull her collection of suitcases out from the confines of her clothes.
“What’s that, bug?” Dean huffs, turning around and wiping his hands on his jeans. His eyes turn soft at the sight of the silken blue tie in Claire’s hand.
“Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that,” he breathes, reaching out to take it from her.
“It’s not mine is it?” Claire says, moving to sit next to her dad on the bed.
“It’s papa’s,” he smiles, throwing an arm about her shoulders, “God, when we first brought you home, Claire, the nights were the worst. You wouldn’t sleep, for love or money, not even for AC/DC-”
Claire laughs a little at that, feeling a tightness in her throat.
“Then one night, you finally decided to shut up when you saw this tie. I woke up, and papa was leaning over your cot, and I thought he was cooing, but he was really urging you to wake up so he could go to bed, you were so strong, and you wouldn’t let go of it.”
Claire hears her dad’s voice get a little tight, and she leans further into him with a watery smile.
“You slept with this tie every night until you were 5,” he laughs, threading it through his fingers, “you would hardly let it out of your sight long enough to let us wash it. I had no idea you kept it all this time.”
The end of that weekend saw Claire’s belongings piled high in the hallway, all three of them making trips to and from the car, trying their best to fit it all in.
Claire pulls up short on the sidewalk when she hears her papa sniff. He’s looking into one of the boxes in the hall, and she runs to cover the distance between them as fast as she can.
Castiel pulls Grumpy Cat from the top of the box, his smile shaking,
“Grumpy Cat’s going with you?”
Claire snorts, grabbing the scruffy stuffed toy from his hands and holding it close to her chest,
“Shut up,” she whines, “I… couldn’t leave him behind.”
The only warning she gets is the loud click of Castiel’s swallow, before she’s pulled roughly into a hug that squeezes the air from her lungs. She recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around his middle and squeezing him just as tight, earning herself a throaty chuckle. She can feel tears dripping into her hair, a couple prickling in her own eyes.
“I’m going to miss you, little bug,” he whispers.
Dean, never one to miss out on cuddle time, wraps himself around the both of them, causing all three of them to laugh wetly.
“God, look at us,” Cas chuckles when they’ve broken apart, all three of them wiping at their cheeks. Claire watches her dad squeeze papa’s shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, before Dean turns his affections to her, gathering her up in his arms, lifting her off the floor, covering her cheek in sloppy kisses accompanied by over-exaggerated noises.
“Oh my god, put me down,” she yells through her tears, her heart constricting inside her chest.
“You’re such a dork,” she accuses light-heartedly, wiping at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie.
“Honey, that’s my job,” Dean grins, picking up the last of the boxes, “you sure you got everything?”
Claire nods, turning back to Cas, who’s still cradling Grumpy Cat in his arms. She watches him smooth his fingers over the scruffy fur with a reverence she’s never seen in him, and it makes her want to hold him and never let go. She settles for looping an arm around his waist, earning her hair an affectionate ruffle.
Castiel sniffs, holding Grumpy Cat out at arms length, shaking a finger at him with a faux sternness that makes Claire laugh anew.
“You take care of my Claire, now, you hear?” he says.
There was no such thing as ‘night’ in space. Nor was there day. But to cater to the ships mostly human crew, the USS Sanders ran on a rough approximation of earths day/night cycle.
Usually a night crew took over the bridge, but considering they were cleared for shore leave on a well protected alliance planet, the bridge was dark, and nearly empty. Nearly.
First Officer Logan hooked his leg over the left arm of the captains chair, practically lounging, completely at ease. In stark contrast his captain knelt on the ground between his legs, head bowed and hands behind his back.
“Look at me.”
Roman lifted his head, having to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. Logan threaded his hand through his hair, smiling when Roman leaned into the contact.
“Are you going to be good for your captain?” Romans eyes started to glaze over, signs of stress melting off him.
“Yes.” He breathed.
Logan tugged at his hair sharply. “Yes, what?” His voice neared a growl. Roman gasped.
Logan let his hand relax. “Good boy.”
He could practically see the praise wash over him, shoulders relaxing, guard wavering. But he wasn’t there yet.
Logan feigned disinterest, idly nudging Romans thighs apart with his shoe.
“I wonder what it’s like, /captain/.” Roman shuddered at hearing his rank, “being so in control all the time. Captain Roman, head of the fleet, Captain Roman, starfleets golden boy.” Logan pressed his leg between Romans, and he whimpered, trying not to chase the friction. “But you’re not, are you?” Logan leaned down, inches from Romans face.
“Look at me.” He hissed, jerking him up by the hair. Roman whined, but didn’t fight it.
“What are you?” “I-ah!”
Logan shoved his leg upwards, forcing Roman to rut against him.
“What. Are. You.” “Yours, sir.” “My /what/?” Roman tried to hide his face, but couldn’t move his head thanks to the hand in his hair. “Y-your toy, sir.” “Is that what you want to be tonight?” Logan murmured, breaking character a little. “Y-yes, sir.” “Good boy.” He raked his nails across romans scalp, watching him let out a deep breath. He moved his hand to the back of Romans neck, moving to the edge of the chair. Seeing his captain looking up at him, completely vulnerable, sent a shiver down his spine. He knew, analytically, that Roman trusted him with his life, and had seen it proven many times, but to feel it was a different thing entirely.
He unzipped the fly of his uniform, Roman watching his hands hungrily as he rolled a condom onto his half hard dick. Logan cupped his face, running a thumb over his bottom lip. Roman held eye contact and opened his mouth, leaning down to take his thumb into his mouth without a hint of teeth. “God, you’re a slut” Logan chuckled. Roman grinned around his finger, and Logan pushed down, forcing his mouth open in retaliation, getting a small moan out of him. “Come here. Show me what you’re good for, /sir/.”
It was an easy game to play with Roman, to challenge him. He would jump at a chance to impress, almost to a fault. Logan let him control the pace, for the most part, leaning back in the captains chair, letting his head hit the back of the seat with a moan. “God, you’re good at that, aren’t you? It’s like you’re made for it, fuck.” Roman moaned around his cock, hands still behind his back, lips swollen. He moved one of his hands within Romans line of sight and gave him a signal. Roman help up one of his own in response. One finger was stop, two was slow down, three was go.
Roman held up a three.
And winked at him.
Logan rolled his eyes, and grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him down further and keeping him there for a count of three. When Roman came back up, he had tears in his eyes from holding his breath. Logan swiped a thumb under his eye. “God you’re gorgeous.” Roman leaned into his hand, catching his breath. “I wish the others could see you like this.” He watched Romans face carefully. They had talked about two officers on the ship as potential additions to their relationship, but Roman was hesitant to involve them. It had been hard enough to convince him to date one inferior officer, let alone three.
Roman encouraged him, wrapping his lips around Logans dick. He kept a hand at the back of his neck this time, gently controlling the pace, a little faster than before. “What do you think they’d do if they where here? What would they think of their /captain/, on his knees for me?” Roman whined, giving him a pleading look. Logan gripped his hair. “Touch yourself.” He ordered.
Roman fumbled in his haste to get out of his pants, and they both had to try not to laugh. Logan waited until they were both just on the edge, then grabbed Roman roughly by the back of his neck, forcing him slowly down again and holding him there until he started to cum. Roman shook with the force of it, making tiny high pitched noises and arching his back. Once he was done, Logan pulled him off gently by the hair.
“You’re done, Roman. You did so good.”
Roman shook his head, eyes still a little out of focus, trying to lean forward and finish him off. “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” Roman huffed, pining him to the chair by his hips and taking him all the way to the hilt. It didn’t take very long. Logan managed to get them both clean before Roman crashed, but only just.
“Carry me, Mr. Logan” he drawled exaggeratedly, draping himself over his back, weighing him down. Logan chuckled, sweeping him up into a bridal carry. Roman snuggled into his neck happily.
“We gotta do that more often.”
“As you say, captain.”
“Shh. Your captain is sleeping.”
DO YOU FEEL ALL THE THREESOMES WITH GOLD, BELLE AND THE NEW DETECTIVE BOBBY SPINNER ????
Honestly I can’t say I do at the moment. Not yet, anyway. I’m sure Bobby will kill it like always as his cursed persona, but I’ve gotten to the point where I cannot stand to see Hook’s face on my screen. So if I can’t even enjoy Bobby without wanting to throw up and punch the TV I’m not gonna have much fun with S7.
But there will no doubt be wonderful gifs that the fandom will produce that I can work with so I’m sure it won’t take me long to smuttify things.
Hi there! So this is my first original Phanfic, I decided to do an ‘‘enemies to lovers’‘ fic since I love those and I wanted to write one all by myself. Hope you like it!
summary: Dan and Phil started working at the same company two years ago, and after a bad start they have arguments almost every day. What will happen when something horrible happens to one of them?
word count: 5.6k
warnings: deals with animal death, stages of grieving
Dan Howell and Phil Lester had been enemies for
about two years now. They worked at the same office, and they both had gotten
the jobs in the same week, so it had been kind of a competition when they both
ended doing almost the same job at the same time.
Dan, who had gotten the job first, remembers
being jealous of Phil, because as soon as he had started working, their boss
had already complimented his work! ‘I haven’t been given any credit yet, and that
bastard has got it all’ Dan bitterly thought when he saw the scene.
On the contrary, a few days later, Phil
remembers introducing himself with a smile to Dan. He now recalls the stare Dan
gave him, it wasn’t full hate, but yet he could see that they weren’t going to
So, that’s when all the ‘’enemies’’ thing
They were having another argument right now,
and even though they were being noticeable, no one in the office seemed to care
about it. They had been listening to their constant bickering since they had
both started in there so, why bother?
‘’You always mess up your work, Phil! Why are
you so careless about this?’’ Dan said, angrily grabbing the papers that were
in his table.
‘’I’m not careless! I know what I’m doing and
those papers that you have in your hands prove it! Read them again if you
care!’’ and with that Phil stormed out, tired of arguing with Dan.
This was strange. Phil never walked out from an
argument with Dan. Their arguments usually ended when they both looked intensely
into each other’s eyes for a minute and then, they both parted ways.
A now confused Dan walked back into his desk
and tiredly sat down, not even thinking twice about what had happened.
In the meantime, Phil, who had stormed out hid
in the storage closet of the office and was silently crying. He couldn’t deal
with more arguments when his life was going literally downhill right now.
Phil lived alone, well, he had a big brown
labrador called Brownie (yeah, it had reminded him of his favourite dessert
when he adopted him so why not call him that?) who already was old. It was such
a nice and intelligent dog. He always would notice if Phil was feeling sick or
sad and tried to cheer him up by giving his old worn out blanket to Phil. Brownie
was the best dog ever.
A few weeks ago they went to the vet, Phil
sensed that something was wrong with Brownie since he wasn’t eating well and
got tired about 10 minutes into their 45 minute walk. When the vet had told him
that Brownie had cancer he literally burst into tears. He was going to lose the
only thing that didn’t make him lonely.
You see Phil had always felt lonely and been
lonely. His parents had always focused on his older brother, and at first he
didn’t mind it much but he started to notice they didn’t love him because
apparently he had been a surprise child and they didn’t want him in the first
place. His parents had told him he would get everything he needed but it seems
like you can’t buy love.
So, when he finished with uni, worked a full
year to get enough money and moved out of his house trying to escape from that
life in London. After a few months working in a horrible company, his friend PJ
from uni had contacted him. Apparently, he had seen on Facebook that he was
staying in London and PJ was working for an enterprise who was looking for new
people with PJ’s similar experience. So, that’s why he was now stuck in the same office
as Dan Howell, his ultimate enemy.
PJ was his friend and knew everything about
Phil’s situation, but not about Brownie’s. He hadn’t told him yet. And
apparently it was now because PJ had opened the storage door and found him
there, crying into a tissue he had had in his pocket.
‘’Hey Phil, why are you crying? I know you and
Howell had and argument earlier but I didn’t know it even made you cry…’’ PJ
said, wandering into they almost completely dark room enveloping Phil in a hug.
Phil clung into him, a few tears still rolling
down his cheeks. He took a deep breath and began explaining ‘’Brownie has
cancer, and the vet said he has a few weeks left, they don’t think he will
manage to live, he is old and…’’ Phil, took a shaky breath but he could speak
PJ rubbed his back, trying his best to comfort
his friend ‘’Hey, don’t worry Phil, you will always have me, okay?’’
‘’Okay’’ Phil quietly replied after letting out
another and last shaky breath.
Phil was trying to make the best of his time
with Brownie so both could have the best memories ever. He still could remember
the day he adopted him.
He had decided he had
wanted a dog, one that would make him go outside so he wouldn’t lay all day in
bed with his computer. He arrived early at the animal shelter, so he could
patiently think (and spend more time petting them) what dog he should get.
Phil noticed that a
brown Labrador had been recently rescued from a house fire. Since the family
that had adopted him in the first place didn’t have a home now, they brought
him to the shelter not making any promises about getting him back.
The dog, which was
sleeping, was still recovering from some superficial burns, but he seemed like
a good dog that Phil could take care of.
‘’This is it, this is
the one I want to adopt’’ he said, he pet the dog in twice in the head, making
him wake up and rapidly standing up to lick Phil’s face. He burst out laughing,
‘’welcome to this lonely family’’ he whispered.
‘’C’mon Brownie, let’s go home’’ he said with a
sad smile, taking a few steps forward so Brownie could follow him.
Brownie died that same night. Phil was left
crying all night, on the floor, next to his beloved dog, who now rested
peacefully. When he saw the sun rising, he called his vet so he would come to
his house and pick Brownie. He had wanted to bury him in his favourite hill,
where they would go every once in a while and where he had seen Brownie the
His vet had explained, that they could bury him
this evening if he wanted, after he had made sure Brownie’s death had been
natural. Phil absently nodded and let the vet take his dog that he could pick
later so he could bury him where he had said before.
After the vet had left, he called PJ, who
unfortunately was on a trip and couldn’t comfort him much by phone. He was
extremely sorry he had to bury Brownie alone. He didn’t really want Phil to be
alone right now. Not after having been lonely for almost all his life.
Phil, after all of this didn’t want to go into
work but he didn’t have another choice so he took a brief and warm shower,
dressed himself and picked up his keys and wallet before mindlessly walking his
way to work.
Dan had arrived early today into the office. He
picked up a coffee and started up his computer. He suddenly heard the elevator
open, oh it was Phil, nice way to ruin his morning. Wait, was it Phil? It
didn’t seem like it.
He checked his appearance. His sneakers where
badly laced up, his shirt was the same as yesterday’s (only know it was
wrinkled), his hair was messed up and his eyes were red (probably from not
sleeping). It seemed like Phil had had a night of passion with someone. He
decided he would go and tease him about it.
‘’Hey Phil, see you had a crazy one night stand
yesterday I see? Same shirt, messed up hair… Why did you even show up before
even changing? Wanted to show everyone in the office that you can hook up with
someone?’’ Dan teased, wanting to rile Phil up and starting another argument
Phil, a bit startled but listening to what Dan
was saying he wanted to punch him in the face and tell him what it had really
happened but he couldn’t do it. So, he stared at him, curtly nodded and started
walking his way to his desk.
Dan, not really understanding why Phil hadn’t
picked up an argument yet decided to leave it for now and retired to the coffee
room so he could call PJ and that way he could get some juicy information to
tease Phil later.
‘’Hey PJ, how’s the trip going?’’ Dan happily
‘’Oh, hey Dan, nice to hear your voice. What’s
up?’’ PJ asked.
‘’Well, I don’t know if you know but do you
know something about Phil’s hook up last night? He showed at the office with
his hair all messed up and the same clothes of yesterday, man. He doesn’t have
any dignity left or what?’’ Dan laughed, expecting PJ’s witty response.
‘’Dan, actually, Phil’s dog died last night. He
had been diagnosed with cancer and he only had a few weeks left,’’ PJ answered,
a completely serious voice on his tone ‘’please don’t be an insensitive prick
and tease him about something like that right now, okay?’’, he said in an angry
Dan, who was shocked at the news didn’t know
what to say. He was feeling like the worst person in the world right now.
Apparently Phil’s dog had died and he had teased him about hooking up with
someone? Oh god. He was definitely the worst person on Earth right now.
‘’PJ, I… I… I didn’t know. I will go
apologize, don’t worry’’ Dan said, sincerity noticeable in his voice. He
couldn’t imagine if that happened to him.
‘’You better, Dan Howell, you better.’’ PJ
said, his angry tone subsiding. Now, in a concerned voice he explained ‘’Dan,
could you do me a favour? I don’t know if you will do it but you should’’.
‘’What is it?’’ Dan wondered, not expecting
what PJ’s words could really be.
‘’Phil is going to bury his dog today late in
the evening in Primrose Hill. You
should go and keep him company Dan. I’m not there and he will need someone. He
loved his dog so much.’’ PJ asked him.
He couldn’t do that.
No. They hated each other, why would he want to go and comfort Phil? Dan
imagined Phil all alone, crying into a pillow while remembering his dog and his
heart ached. He didn’t want to imagine the pain he was having right now.
‘’Okay, I will.’’ Dan
answered. ‘’Bye PJ, talk to you next week’’
‘’Bye Dan, and
please, don’t leave him alone, he needs someone.’’ And with that PJ hung up.
After he left the
coffee room he searched for Phil, trying to apologize for what he had said but
he couldn’t find him. He figured their boss had sent him home since he was in no
state to work in.
It was gonna be a
difficult morning at the office today.
Phil was on his way
to Primrose Hill. He picked up Brownie (he still refused to say he was dead)
from his vet, wrapped him up on a sheet and put him in the backseat of his car
and started to drive while tears poured down his cheeks.
It had started to
rain heavily a few hours ago and he hadn’t even thought about bringing an
umbrella. ‘Well, that way the rain would mask my tears’ he thought bitterly.
He parked his car,
took out a shovel and began making a grave. All his frustration making his way
out. He was angrily making a hole on the grass, trying let all his hateful
feelings out, angry fat tears now mixed with the rain.
Once he was done, he
walked back to the car, carefully picked up Brownie and he lowered down on his
knees. Phil, gently lifted out the sheet, just to see Brownie’s face one last
time. He showed a small smile and lowered the sheet down, while gently resting
his now lifeless body on the grave. ‘’Rest well, my friend. You were the best
companion a man could have ever asked for. Thank you for giving me the best
years of my life. I will always remember you, Brownie. Hope you don’t forget
about me. ’’ Phil whispered into the air, letting out a breath before picking
up the now wet grass to cover Brownie’s grave.
Once he had finished
he started crying again, he was even having trouble to breathe right now. He
just wanted to his suffering to end. Why the only thing he loved left him? He
was lonely again. He had always been lonely and he will ever be.
Suddenly, he didn’t
feel the rain on his body anymore. He lifted his head to see if it had stopped
raining but he met an umbrella instead. He rapidly turned around, and he was met
with the only thing he didn’t know he wanted.
‘’Dan…’’ he let out
through his tears.
‘’Phil… I’m…’’ but
before he could say anything more Phil launched himself into his arms. Heavily
crying into his shoulder. Dan, a bit startled, realized what was happening and
put his free arm securely around Phil, so that his hand was holding Phil’s
head, mindlessly caressing his black hair trying to comfort him.
Once he noted Phil
had calmed down, Dan took his hand and started walking back to Phil’s car.
‘’C’mon, I will bring you home’’.
They were now sitting inside Phil’s car, he quietly muttered his address to Dan, not even bothering to
pick up a fight about driving because he honestly knew he couldn’t drive in
that state. Dan, looked up at Phil one more time, noticing how his then blue
eyes had paled, had lost his shining. It was like life had been drowned out of
them. He didn’t want to see Phil like that, it really made his heart ache.
The drive lasted
about 20 minutes, due to the hard rain that was still falling. They arrived to
the destination and before going out Phil looked at Dan ‘’How are you getting
home? I am not letting you go back to your house with this weather’’ he said in
a raspy voice.
Phil’s only concern was how Dan was getting home. He really didn’t want him to
go out on this rain, and even thought they were ‘’enemies’’ he couldn’t be
bothered by that anymore. He didn’t want to hate or be hated by anyone. He had
been hated all his life. Right now, he just wanted a bit of love, even though
he knew Dan couldn’t give it to him.
call a taxi, don’t worry about me.’’ Dan replied. He didn’t really want to go
home right now and leave Phil like that. He really wanted to stay with him
right now, keeping him company at least, but if Phil didn’t want that he
wouldn’t pressure him. ‘’I’m sorry for your loss Phil. I am.’’ Dan said before
grabbing the door handle and opening it when…
Phil shouted, ‘’would you maybe want to stay? It is really late and in this
weather there won’t probably be many taxis available. I have a spare room and
clothes so please stay.’’ Phil practically begged. He really didn’t want to be
alone right now, and if Dan was the only company he would be getting that be
it. He was tired of their game, to be honest.
you want me to’’ Dan said, trying not to show the relief he had felt when Phil
had asked him to stay. ‘’C’mon, I will make you hot chocolate’’ he said,
opening the door again and grabbing the umbrella to cover them both.
They had entered
Phil’s flat and what Dan noticed was that it was dull. It wasn’t full of anyone’s
quirky things like a strange figurines or even nice furniture. It was all the
same colour except for one colourful point, a picture in the lounge shelves.
Phil had told Dan to leave his coat and shoes at the door while he searched for
comfy clothes they could wear, so he silently wandered off to that colourful
It was a picture of
Phil and his dog. They both looked young. He was hugging the dog while this was
liking his face and Phil had a genuine smile, one he hadn’t seen before. It was
a beautiful smile and he instantly regretted being mean to Phil all those years
ago when he could have enjoyed that smile instead of angry looks.
‘’PJ took this
picture of us,’’ Phil said when he entered the room, startling Dan ‘’two weeks
after I rescued Brownie at shelter. We went to Primrose Hill for the first time
and he was just such a happy dog, what’s why I wanted to bury him there, so he
could return to the place where he really was happy’’ he ended with a sad
Dan, touched by
Phil’s story, wanted to say something meaningful, to reassure Phil that his dog
had been happy just because he had lived next to Phil, but apparently his head
had other plans. ‘’Oh, Brownie was his name? That’s such a cute name. I can see
why you named him that.’’ Dan wanted to punch himself in the face. REALLY DAN?
‘’Yeah,’’ Phil let
out a little laugh, the first in a few days, ’’when I saw his hair colour it
reminded me of my favourite dessert and…’’ he cut himself mid-sentence, feeling
like Dan didn’t want to hear more about this, he would only make a fool of
himself if he continued, ‘’yeah it’s stupid I know’’. Feeling nervous, Phil
coughed a bit and handed Dan the comfy clothes he had brought.
‘’Here, you can
change in the bathroom I will go and bring some blankets’’ and with that Phil
flew out of the door.
Dan sighed, really
hating himself from two years ago for making Phil insecure he couldn’t even
share the story of his dog with him, thinking Dan would really laugh at him.
And with that though he walked into the bathroom.
Dan got out of the
bathroom comfortably clothed now. He was now searching for Phil so he could at
least apologize for everything. He walked down the hall and he noticed that
Phil was pacing in his bedroom, talking to someone on the phone while he had
He didn’t really want
to eavesdrop but he heard Phil sniffle, trying to hold the tears. ‘’Mum, can
you talk now?’’
‘’Brownie died and
I…’’ he could see Phil muttering, biting his inner cheek.
‘’Brownie is, was my
dog. He has been with me for years and now…’’ Phil explained. Apparently his
parents didn’t even know he had had a dog for years? What parent didn’t know
about his son’s life?
‘’I know that a dog
is not a person but I knew Brownie liked to be with me. No one has loved me and
no one will but still mum, he was my companion’’ he said, his voice cracking.
Phil though no one loved him. Oh god, all the hate he had expressed to him was
making Phil feel worse. He didn’t really hate Phil, he had just been jealous
and now… He was a monster. He needed to apologize and reassure him that he
would find someone who loved him, he deserved to be loved.
‘’I was just letting
you know, I didn’t want to bother you and dad don’t worry’’ he exhaled tiredly.
Like having repeated this same sentence many times before.
Dan was too deep in
thought when he noticed Phil had fully opened the door and had discovered that
than was listening ‘’Oh, hey Dan’’ he said nervously, like trying to pretend
everything was fine when it wasn’t. He was on the verge of tears now and wanted
nothing more than to bury himself inside the covers of his bed and cry.
whispered, taking his hand again and re-entering the bedroom sitting him on the
edge of the bed and he sat down next to him, taking his hand ‘’Phil look at
me’’ he said softly.
‘’Phil, I am
extremely sorry that I started to hate you those years back. I never really
hated you. I was just jealous because you had just arrived and had already been
complimented for your job more than mine and you were so nice, and still are, and
then you approached me and I didn’t know how to act because in that moment I
was just so driven by jealously that from that moment everything you did
irritated me’’ Dan explained, sincerity in his face. Phil could clearly see Dan
regretted all that had been said between them. He really wanted to fix things.
He took a breath and
continued ‘’I’m sorry for my behaviour earlier today, that was out of line. I’m
sorry for making you believe that I extremely hated you, when clearly I can’t
hate you. And for the most, I am sorry for making you believe that no one could
ever love you.’’ Both had tears in his eyes too. Phil wanted to speak up, explain
that he didn’t really hated him either, that he was sorry he was mean to him
all the time. ‘’Phil, you deserve to be loved, so please, even if you don’t
ever forgive me, please believe me; because you more than anyone deserves love.’’
The both of them were
crying and Phil, being the most emotional of the two threw himself into Dan’s
arms, making them both fall into the bed, he on top of Dan. Now letting his
tears wet the side of Dan’s neck.
They cried for a long
time and Phil, without lifting his head from the crook of Dan’s neck whispered an
almost silent ‘’I forgive you’’ before falling asleep on top of the boy he didn’t
Dan, wiping the tears
from his eyes fixed his eyes on Phil, who was now sleeping. He noticed he was
tense, probably because of the hard day he had had. After all, no one can
handle the stress of your dog dying, your potential enemy hating you and also not
receiving any closure from your parents either and expect you to be relaxed.
He moved Phil like he
could, resting his head onto the pillows and pulling him under the duvet,
trying to make Phil as comfortable as possible. He didn’t want to disturb his
sleep, he needed to rest.
Dan checked the time and
noticed it was almost 11pm, and they were expected to work tomorrow. He sent a
message to his boss, telling him that Phil was still feeling ‘under the weather’
and wouldn’t be going to work tomorrow.
With that last thing,
he wandered into Phil’s spare bedroom and also dived under the duvet, thinking
about what had happened. At least Phil had forgiven him but he still felt the
need to do something more for him.
That’s right! He would
show him how it is to be loved. Or at least making him feel loved. Yeah, he
would do that. And his plan was starting tomorrow.
Dan woke up to his
horrible alarm tone at 7 o’clock. He woke up more energized that usual,
remembering what he had planned to do.
He wandered off his
room and slightly opened Phil’s bedroom door, and what he saw made Dan almost
cry again. Apparently Phil had woken up during the night picked up a worn out
blanket that looked like it had been used by Brownie and was clutching it into
his chest. He noticed he had tear streaks down his cheeks again and Dan blamed
himself for not hearing Phil cry during the night so he could comfort him.
He closed the door
again and walked off to the kitchen, where he promised he would make Phil the
best breakfast he would ever taste. He took a look at Phil’s fridge and started
thinking what to make. Pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes!
Once he had finished
his pancakes he picked up a tray, and a small vase that he had spotted near the
kitchen window. Realising he didn’t have a flower, he created one with a
napkin. All those paper-folding tutorials he had watched when he was 14 and
wanted to impress his crushes were worth it.
With a paper rose and
the pancakes in the tray, he grabbed the bottle of syrup along with a glass of
water. He picked up a pen and paper from a notebook that was on the table and
‘Good morning Phil,
By the time you read
this I will already have gone to work. Don’t worry, you don’t have to come, I
spoke to our boss yesterday and she said it was okay.
As you can see I made
you pancakes in form of apology for everything again. I know you have forgiven
me, but still, I’m feeling guilty so accept this as part of my apology. (Hope
they are good, I don’t know if I’m a really good cook, judge yourself!)
Also, I still think
we need to talk and I still think you don’t want to be alone so call me or text
me if you need anything. And by anything I mean ANYTHING at all Phil. Even if
it is just a hug.
I will come back
later to see how you are doing, okay?
See you later,
He tore the paper and
put it on the tray that he then picked up and carefully set it on top of Phil’s
nightstand. He looked back one more time before leaving the bedroom and
changing into his work clothes and leaving out for work.
Phil woke up at midday,
disorientated and with a slight headache from crying so much yesterday. He looked
at his nightstand, so he could check the time. He probably was late to work
anyways. But instead of a clock he found a tray with a plate full of pancakes,
a paper folded rose and a note.
He carefully touched
the rose, feeling the napkin texture on his fingerprints. It really was
He took the note and
started reading. The fact that Dan had managed to do all of that for him was
already too much. He felt like he was being taken care of, and Phil liked it.
Then he realised that Dan probably did this as a one time thing, but he would
enjoy it while it lasted.
Apparently Dan said
in the note that he was coming back later, that had to mean something right?
Also he wanted to talk? That part he didn’t like that much. Well, he wanted to
tell Dan that he didn’t hated him either, so it could be a good thing that he
was coming back later.
He decided to send
him a text, ‘thank you. And not just for the pancakes x P’
Dan responded immediately
‘always. And I will always make you pancakes x D’
For now, he would
enjoy his breakfast.
He was distracting
himself on Tumblr when he heard the doorbell rang. That must be Dan. He practically
ran to his door and straightened his sweatshirt before opening the door.
‘’Dan’’ Phil said, a
small smile on his face. He really did come back.
‘’Hey’’ Dan said,
making his way into Phil’s apartment. ‘’So, did you enjoy the pancakes?’’
‘’Yes, they were so
good. I have never eaten homemade pancakes before so that was new. Thank you.’’
Phil explained, even though being born in a British household he had not eaten
homemade pancakes once in his life, due to his parents having practically
‘’So… I brought you
something.’’ Dan said, his cheeks tinted red. He was kind of embarrassed he had
actually stopped to buy this on his way but he couldn’t resist himself.
Suddenly Dan took out
a sunflower from behind his back, handing it to Phil. ‘’I made you a paper
flower this morning, but I thought at least you deserved a real one so here. ’’
Phil, touched by Dan’s
gesture, he hugged him, taking Dan by surprise and murmured a chocked out ‘’thank
you’’ before letting a few tears roll down his cheeks. Trying Dan not to notice
he was crying again for whoever knows what time in the last few hours, he
rapidly flew out of the door into the kitchen, putting the sunflower in the
same vase where Dan’s rose was.
He was really
starting to like this Dan.
Now they were both
sitting on the sofa and it was Phil who spoke out first. ‘’Dan I want to tell
‘’Yeah, what’s wrong
Phil?’’ Dan moved his body so he could face Phil.
‘’I really didn’t
hate you either. I actually wanted to get to get to know you and when you
seemed so cold to me that first day I knew we weren’t gonna be friends but I
was actually expecting to have a professional relationship. So yeah…’’ Phil
Dan, surprised by
Phil’s confession felt like shit all over again. Phil had wanted to be friends
with him and he at least was expecting a professional relationship but
apparently Dan wasn’t even able to handle that.
He put his arms over
his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. Phil, seeing the distress Dan was in,
tried to reassure him ‘’Hey Dan, it’s okay, now we have talked it out and I’m
not mad at you. Stop taking all the blame. It’s is not your fault, okay?’’
‘’Yes it is Phil, I
made you think you couldn’t be loved because I hated you. It’s is my fault!’’
Dan said, who was now pacing around the lounge torturing himself for this.
‘’Dan, I don’t hate
myself because of you. I hate myself because my parents neglected me as a
child. I wasn’t a wanted child so I was never going to be a loved one either
way. They provided me all the material things, but not affection’’ Phil
began to explain, making Dan stop pacing around and now sitting down next to
He took a breath and
continued ‘’I have always felt lonely, even though I had friends and when I got
to uni I actually had a relationship but it wasn’t real love. And I knew that,
because even though I had never been loved, I didn’t feel different. And love
is supposed to make you feel different, right?’’
‘’The only time I
felt different was when I was with Brownie. He didn’t fail to make me smile and
even though he wasn’t a person he made this flat less lonely. Made my life less
lonely I guess. But now that he is gone…’’ He choked up at the last sentence.
Dan, after having
listened to Phil’s explanation the only thing he could do was to wrap him into
a tight hug, letting Phil cry for Brownie and for whatever feeling that was
running in his veins right now.
Phil offered to make
dinner for him and Dan, but this one insisted on helping him, so they could
both use a distraction. Dan didn’t want to leave yet and he wanted to listen a
few of Phil’s memories with Brownie. They were both in the kitchen, Dan helping
Phil chop some vegetables when the radio that was softly playing tuned in an Ed
‘’Oh, I love this
song, c’mon Phil, let’s dance’’ he didn’t gave him time to prepare when he
grabbed his hand, making him spun himself on his feet and then putting his arms
around his waist while Phil put his around Dan’s neck.
‘’Dan, I don’t know
how to dance’’ he shyly confessed, making his cheeks go red since he hadn’t
danced this close to someone ever.
‘’I will show you’’ Dan whispered, bringing
Phil closer to his body, so now they were practically swaying around. Phil
wanted nothing more than to stay here, in this moment, forever.
‘’And I’m thinking
‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a
Dan was sure the lyrics where speaking to him
right now. He really wanted to show Phil what real love was, and maybe, without
noticing, he was starting to fall in love with Phil. Maybe a little bit.
‘’Maybe we found love
right where we are…’’
Phil had his eyes closed, letting the lyrics
speak to him. Yeah, he might have finally found love here, in Dan’s arms, that’s
where he really felt different. He felt safe in there. And love is supposed to
give you safety.
As the song was ending, the both were unsure of
what to do next. Just as the last seconds of melody where fading, Phil decided
he didn’t want Dan to ever leave him. After dealing with the loss of Brownie he
didn’t want to lose the only other thing he had managed to make him feel
different, make him feel loved. With that thought in mind, he grabbed Dan’s
cheeks and made his lips touch his, both of them melting into the kiss. It
escalated quickly, tongues and grabby hands making the way through shirts and
They parted ways, just a few millimetres, just
to be able to catch enough breath so that Phil could whisper a soft ‘’Stay’’
‘’Always’’ was Dan’s last promise before
kissing him again.