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“I swear to Christ, it has to be getting even hotter.”
The last box is set down with a dull thud that echoes far too loud in the otherwise empty flat and Phil turns to face his roommate. Dan is standing in the doorway to what’s going to be their living room, shirt pulled up to reveal his stomach and the biggest scowl on his face.
Phil giggles quietly, “There’s a heat wave in Manchester. Supposed to be 26 by the end of the week.”
He can hear Dan’s cursing under his breath even from where he stands in the middle of the room, rolling his eyes fondly as the younger boy continues with his lamenting.
It’s endearing, in a way, watching Dan come out of his shell more and more. In less than a year he went from being too timid to sit next to Phil on his bed to barging in unannounced to do laundry.
“The washers at uni sucks.” He explained one day while measuring out detergent. Phil had to take over, much to a sulky Dan’s chagrin. “Takes ages to wash my clothes there and I don’t wanna ask anyone how to work the dryer.”
Phil insisted it was okay; it just gave them an excuse to play Mortal Kombat together and for Dan to stay the night. Really, Dan stayed over at his flat more often than his own dorm.
Maybe that was why he had been eager to ask Dan to move in with him when his lease was up. With Dan finishing University and Phil wanting to upgrade, it was a perfect opportunity for the two of them to have a more feasible living condition.
Even now, when they’re trekking all their belongings up too many flights of stairs in a heat wave, it’s still exciting. Phil has come to miss having housemates and Dan was like, his best friend. They had so much in common, not even just Youtube, and it would be nice to not feel so isolated.
“Stupid, shitty box. How much fucking cello tape do you need to seal this, Phil?”
He juts his lip out, watching Dan practically manhandle the box with huffs and mutters of frustration, “Would you like me to help you?”
Dan shoots his head up at that, eyes narrowing momentarily before he completely freezes. His face relaxes, his body sinks back down, and he even hangs his head in what must be shame.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” He murmurs, sinking to the floor and fiddling with the loose end of tape he managed to free in his fit.
Before Dan can say another word, Phil is walking towards him. He sits criss cross beside the younger boy and pats his leg encouragingly, sending a soft smile, “Moving is stressful. The heat isn’t helping either, yeah?”
It’s clear Dan isn’t expecting to be consoled, seeing as his eyes widen in surprise and he sends his own apologetic smile back that fails to hide how red his face is.
Their hands touch, just for a moment, Phil taking the opportunity to rub the back of Dan’s palm with his thumb and Dan, in turn, makes a humming noise in the back of his throat.
“We good?”
Phil squeezes his hand as he pulls Dan to his feet, “Yeah dude. We were bound to have our first fight at some point in our new flat, better to get it out of the way now.”
And Dan laughs at that, eyes crinkling. He nudges Phil’s shoulder, fixing his fringe that fell over his face amidst his meltdown moments ago.
The tension is palpable and Phil can’t even check to make sure that Dan himself is okay before the boy is moving towards his room in half a beat.
“I’m going to work on some assignments.” He informs Phil when he makes it to his door, quickly flinging it open and stepping through before Phil can react, “If you don’t see me by 5 just assume I’m dead.”
Phil laughs gently, the tension slowly fizzing out, and he waves Dan off as the door clicks shut.
Phil does see Dan by dinner that night. Granted it’s almost 9 and he has massive eye bags that look like they can’t be hidden even with makeup, yet he’s in the kitchen and pulling out leftovers from the night before and it’s reassuring to see.
“Glad you see you didn’t die.” Phil chirps from the sink, “How’d that assignment go?”
Dan stiffens for a moment, finger freezing on the microwave before he drops his hand and turns to face him with a strained smile.
“Just great.”
There’s silence, only the buzz of the microwave filling the awkwardness, and as soon as it beeps, Dan is yanking it out and turning to move back to his room.
“Wait, Dan—“
The door shuts in his face.
xx
After the whole door slamming incident last night, Phil assumed that Dan’s bout of frustration would come to an end.
He was sadly mistaken.
It started that very next morning; Phil had been awake before Dan, a rare occurrence, and was busying himself with a pot of coffee when his roommate stormed into the kitchen with a scowl and a nest of hair on his head.
“Good morn—“ Dan growls and it has Phil shutting his mouth quickly, taking a nervous sip of his coffee.
He watches Dan slam open the cabinet and grab a mug, loudly slam it on the counter as he pours an overflowing cup of coffee, and slam the cabinet back shut before stomping out of the kitchen and back to his room with another slam of his bedroom door.
So, obviously, this meant one of two things.
One, Dan was reading stuoud comments again instead of blocking and had been up all night ruminating over them or two, he was upset about something serious and was choosing to let it fester instead of talking to Phil.
Both options were bad but at least one had a quick outcome in the form of Phil blocking and muting certain users and reassuring Dan they were wrong.
The second one, well…
He can hear Dan’s cursing even from the kitchen and he sighs into his coffee. There was only so much he could do if Dan was choosing to shut himself away; he just had to sit back and wait for him to come forward and talk about it.
Until then, he just had to hope Dan wouldn’t break himself or break something.
Phil was a fool, really, for hoping that things would remain somewhat calm. It had only taken three more days for the worst of the storm.
He had been on the couch editing a video, focused on choosing the perfect sound effect and debating whether he wanted to pay for a few new ones when the door slammed open and crashed against the wall.
“Dan, my goodness.” Phil breathes out as his heart rate slows back down, “That poor door doesn’t deserve that.”
The glare he’s met with is so serious that Phil has to bite his lip. Dan looks bad, exhausted beyond belief and so sullen that he completely abandons his video to walk towards him.
Dan notices this and makes a move to go back to his room immediately, Phil practically springing on him to keep him in the living room.
“Hey, hey, hold on. What’s going on? You look terrible and you haven’t been eating.” Dan’s scowl deepens. “Talk to me—“
“I’m fine.” He snaps, pushing past Phil so he can hold himself back up in his room. Phil snatches him by the wrist and tugs him closer and it has Dan letting out a hiss that sounds more like a wet cat than a predator of any kind. “I said I’m—“
“Not only am I your flatmate, I’m also your best friend. I can tell when you’re lying and, most importantly, I’m not blind. I can tell you’re dealing with something and I want to help you.”
Dan scoffs, actually scoffs at that, like a spoiled kid. “Wow, good job! Glad your glasses are working.”
“Dan—“
“Jesus, just leave me alone, would you?” Phil holds his wrist tighter despite this, Dan pathetically tugging his hand to try and free it. “I don’t need you to do anything and all I need is to do this fucking quiz and study for my midterm tomorrow.”
Had that been it all along? Dan was stressed with university, it explained the sleepless nights and frustration and the increased depression.
“Why didn’t you say something? I can help you—“
“No.”
Phil frowns, “I don’t mind, it isn’t a problem. Sure I don’t know much about law but I can still help you study for your test and check over your assignment.”
“Phil, stop.”
“Dan, seriously, it’s okay—“
“No the fuck it isn’t!” Dan hisses, “Just stop trying to help.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Phil had left Dan to the dogs the past week and he really wanted to help him get out of his funk.
“But it’s okay, seriously. I want to help you out! So you can graduate on time—“
“Oh would you just shut the hell up already!?”
Phil freezes, mouth remaining open yet none of his words forming. He had never seen Dan this worked up.
“I don’t want to— I can’t do this anymore! If I have to go to one more lecture, look at one more stupid pre-law book or worksheet, I might actually end my life.” He laughs dryly, hands fisting his hair tighter. Phil is quick to tug the strands free and wrap his own fingers around the brunette’s, soothing the best he can as Dan continues his ranting. “You keep trying to encourage me and say that I can do it but I just… I’m done, Phil. Seriously. I can’t do this stupid major anymore, I don’t even think I can do uni anymore…”
The confessions pour out of Dan nonstop, as though everything he had been holding onto for years and years is finally able to come to light and lift off his chest. Phil doesn’t interrupt, even when Dan continues to berate himself and dig his free hand into his thigh; he just lets the boy rant and yell and scream.
Just when it seems like he’s going to scream until there’s a noise complaint, Dan stops and drops to sit on the floor. His head falls into his hands, fingers pressing firmly against his head like he’s trying to squeeze all the frustration out that way. Phil is already dropping down to sit beside him, reaching for his hand and pulling it close, thumb rubbing small circles against the back of Dan’s to help regulate him.
They sit like that: one of Dan’s hands against his forehead, the other intertwined with Phil’s, silence except for the occasional huffs and hums. It’s tense, palpitating, but at least Dan is much calmer and not screaming and yelling anymore.
He feels Dan’s hand twitch after a while, the lingering silence interrupted with a whimper, and Phil is gently guiding Dan in for a hug. One that the younger boy wastes no time melting into.
“‘m sorry.” Dan’s voice is muffled against the fabric of Phil’s jumper yet he doesn’t bother to pull away so he can speak clearly. “‘m really—“
He cuts him off, shushing him and continuing to rub his back. They stay like that until their legs fall asleep, Phil calming Dan down and Dan melting against Phil, and only then do they make any attempt to stand up and look each other in the eye.
Dan looks so much younger than usual, face looking babier and softer, and Phil is leaning towards him to kiss his forehead at the sight.
“Sorry. I’m okay.”
He’s not, they both know it, and Phil just rolls his eyes as he nudges the boy. Leave it to Dan to have the meltdowns of all meltdowns and then brush it off like it’s no big deal and he’s totally fine.
“You don’t have to lie to me.” It’s meant to be scolding but it comes out more teasing than anything. “It must have been tough if it had you yelling and cussing me out.”
Dan flushes at that, cheeks turning red as he whines indignantly. His baby soft, sullen face does nothing to help with how bratty it sounds either.
“I’m… I’m sorry about all of that. I shouldn’t have taken this all out on you. I was a huge dick, and not in the kinky way.”
Phil agrees with a huffed out laugh, “You have been kind of a dick to me the past few weeks, yeah.”
They both fall silent again, Dan antsy and darting his eyes to his feet anytime Phil looks at him. He opens his mouth to say something again before shutting it quickly, chewing the inside of his cheek instead.
“Alright, enough of that.” He rolls his eyes, “I’m not gonna kick you out or anything, so just tell me already.”
Dan whines, squirming awkwardly, and Phil is prepared to shake him into telling him what the hell is going on when he yells.
“I think I want to be spanked!”
Phil freezes again, “You… You want what?”
Another whine, another squirm. Phil calls his name.
“Look, I know it’s crazy, and you can obviously say no and we’ll just… forget any of this happened and go back to being normal friends and roommates. But I have been feeling so pent up and anxious and frustrated and ended up being a dick to you; I took it all out on you instead of being a fucking adult and just talking.”
Dan goes quiet after that and Phil can’t tell if he’s done ranting finally or if he’s taking a minute to calm down and explain himself. His hand reaches out with ease, grabbing Dan’s and squeezing gently in encouragement. Dan sighs out heavily at that yet he squeezes it back.
“And I feel like shit, and I can’t think of anything else except just getting my ass kicked to stop feeling like everything is on fire around me.”
“Is it a kink thing?” Phil asks in all seriousness and is met with a squeak. “I don’t know much but I do know it’s common. Something about the catharsis and pain?”
The grip on his hand falls as Dan throws his hands up, “That’s exactly it! Do you think it’s weird? That I’m weird?”
As a matter of fact, Phil does think Dan is weird. He’s never met anyone who refuses to walk under a tree and he can’t figure out how to wear a belt for the life of him but he doesn’t find him even remotely weird for this.
“It could be worse.”
Dan laughs quietly, hand fidgeting in the air as though he’s debating whether he wants to grab Phil’s or it by his side, “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to, really. If it’s too awkward we can just act like this never happened—“
“It’s fine.” Phil quickly reassures and grabs Dan’s hand before he can yank at his hair again. “If it helps you, we’ll try it. Besides, I kind of do want to kick your ass for being a dick and moping around me recently.”
It’s how they end up here; Dan is standing awkwardly beside Phil in his bedroom, clearly waiting for some sort of direction and idea on what to do next.
Phil spares him a breakdown, walking over to his bed and taking a seat on the edge of it, “You ready?”
“Uh, where do I…”
He trails off nervously, face bright red even with the dimmed lighting, and Phil rolls his eyes playfully, “Come on. I said I would spank you, didn’t I? Do you not want to anymore? Because it’s okay if you changed your-“
“No!” Dan interrupts as he practically runs over to him, “I mean, no, it’s not that. I just thought that you’d, I dunno, bend me over the bed or something… I mean, I’m a little too tall.”
Phil’s nose wrinkles, “You’re the same height as me, you can manage. Now, come on.”
Despite moving closer, Dan doesn’t make an effort to lay across Phil’s lap, and it pushes him to grab the younger boy’s hand. He whines when he’s pulled closer, trying to turn his face away childishly.
“Daniel. Do I need to count like you’re a little kid?”
Dan practically whimpers like a kicked dog at the threat, “No! I’m just-“
“Just stalling.” Phil tugs him closer, ignoring the little squeaks that are let out. “You asked me to spank you, so I’m doing it.”
“But-“
“Okay.” Dan’s face morphs in confusion. “One.” And then his eyes practically bulge out from his skull.
“Wait, wait!” He’s moving in an instant, clumsily throwing himself over Phil’s lap and smashing his head against the mattress.
Even with his messy hair and the bedsheets covering his face, Phil can still see the bright red of his cheeks.
He eases some of the tension by rubbing Dan’s back, gentle movements — the same his mom used on him when he would have panic attacks as a kid. Bless Kath, ever the patient woman, she had put up with so many of those — that loosen his tense shoulders.
“You’ve been stressed for a while, huh?”
Dan nods into the sheets, not even bothering to lift his head to respond.
“You know you could have avoided this if you would have talked to me. Before all this, I mean.”
He nods again and Phil is rolling his eyes, “You could at least say something.”
The first time Phil had ever seen Dan in person, he noticed one thing immediately. He was shy, timid and awkward, talking so quietly Phil had to lean in to hear him speak. It was a complete 180 from the flirty and loud Dan on Skype; it was like Dan was a different person.
But it didn’t take very long for him to bust out of that shell, only a mere 10 minutes and a mention of the nearby Apple Store had Dan smiling and laughing with ease.
There had rarely been silence after that, as though finally getting to be with him just erased all those anxious feelings, so he’s a little put off by how quiet Dan is.
“Daniel.” His voice is sharp, even for him, “You don’t have to act all tough or embarrassed.”
He can see him shifting awkwardly, preparing to say something that’s immediately shut down by Phil’s hand connecting for the first time against his joggers.
Dan inhales sharply, toes flexing, and Phil brings his hand down again.
Phil was surprised with how easy he fell into a rhythm, quickly covering every square inch of the black fabric covering Dan’s ass with swats that had him gasping and hissing.
A particularly hard swat falls and Dan curses under his breath.
“You need to watch your mouth.” Phil is finding himself reprimanding, hand falling harder, “You already… cursed me out, I don’t want to hear anymore.”
He feels like his mother right now; there’s a faint memory in the back of his mind of his mum scolding him for cursing as a child, immediately followed up with the taste of soap in his mouth. He had long repressed that memory, buried it deep in his mind and locked the door.
But hearing Dan curse now makes him want to wrench that door right open.
“Okay!” Dan hisses as a response, all snarky and bratty, and it has Phil smacking his hand down hard enough to have Dan yelping. “Okay, Jesus! I’m sorry! Fu— Frick.”
He gives Dan another sharp spank that has him yelling before he relaxes his hand. With the way Dan is acting it’s clear he isn’t settling down or done getting all his frustration out, and he finds himself staring at the waistband of his joggers that peek out from where his shirt has ridden up.
Phil reaches out to it, “I’m going to pull your joggers down.”
He’s expecting Dan to cuss him out, to tell him to ‘fuck off’ or hiss at him like a feral cat.
Instead, Dan just whines, fidgeting around so Phil can actually access his joggers’ waistband and tug them down to his knees.
“Why have you been so stressed, Daniel?”
The question is accompanied by a spank that echoes in his bedroom, the sound of his palm meeting Dan’s boxers making him wince in time with Dan’s own whine.
“I- ah- I don’t know.” Phil’s face furrows and he’s about to bring his hand back down as a warning when Dan starts talking again. “I mean I do, it’s just a lot and I feel stupid— Ow, ow, stop that!”
Phil gives him one more swat for good measure before letting his hand rest against his ass, “You aren’t stupid, but go on.”
It takes a lot to get Dan to be open about his feelings. Even now with several months under their belts together, Phil still finds himself at a loss when it comes to certain “Dan-isms”; it was like trying to beat the bonus level in a retro video game using a cheat code that only worked half the time.
Basically, there was a very slim chance he’d get an actual answer from Dan and not one disguised in deprecating jokes and brushing it all aside.
The silence lingers long enough for Phil to pat Dan’s hip in encouragement, a silent push for him to get everything off his chest for good.
“My mum’s the one who pushed law school. She was so excited when I went to uni and her and dad have these extreme expectations about “when I become a lawyer” but it’s fucking miserable.” Phil doesn’t get onto him for the curse, not this time, and Dan doesn’t even backtrack. He just picks right back up with his ranting from before yet he’s far more quiet now, “I don’t think I’m made for this. I… I think I want to drop out.”
Once the bandage is ripped off, Dan practically relaxes completely over Phil. The last remaining thread keeping him tied to all the stressors and anxieties and expectations snapping, even if just momentarily.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
Dan shrugs, “Isn’t it stupid?”
He had heard Dan complain time and time again about going to class, had listened to every lecture and law related text alongside Dan for months while they both grimaced. He knew that Dan was struggling with his classes, but he hadn’t realized it was that bad. Maybe it was because he had done great in university, excelled in his classes and majored in something he was passionate about.
It must be hard to hate what you’re studying.
“I don’t think so.” It’s easy to appease Dan, it’s like breathing. “I think it’s even stupider to keep with it and stress yourself out. Or to be a dickhead to your flatmate instead of telling him what’s going on.”
Dan lets out a noise that could be mistaken for frustration, but Phil knows his roommate well enough to clock it as guilt. It’s what makes it easier to continue spanking him.
“You’re not obligated to keep doing something you hate just because your family wants you to.” He can’t fully comprehend that feeling, Phil was fortunate enough to have his parents and family support his decisions with no holds barred. “Especially not if you’re miserable.”
Despite the wriggles and whines that occasionally break Phil’s pattern, Dan remains silent. He doesn’t pose any arguments or bother responding — Phil isn’t sure if it’s because he might cry if he does or that he believes what’s being said — and it’s what pushes Phil to take the final step forward and reach at the waistband of the other boy’s boxers.
That’s what finally gets an actual reaction out of Dan.
He pushes himself up, practically bucking to prevent Phil from doing anything, and he has to push him back down with a grunt.
“Phiiiiil.” The boy whines once Phil has him planted back over his lap, arm wrapping around his hip so he doesn’t thrash anymore. “You can’t—“
“Do you need to call it quits and stop this spanking?” Dan shifts but shakes his head no. “Then I’m going to finish this way.”
Dan doesn’t respond and Phil takes the silence as an approval, reaching back up with the hand not restraining the sulky boy across his lap to tug his boxers down to his knees. His ass is, surprisingly, a faint hue of pink. With the way Phil’s hand was starting to sting, he had expected it to be bright red.
He’s relieved. The last thing he wanted from this was to actually hurt Dan; he knew that the other would probably argue that the entire point of this was to get hurt, yet Phil knew there was that fine boundary. Just because Dan was stubborn didn’t mean that he would abuse his best friend and flatmate.
“I want you to tell me why we’re doing this.” Phil states once Dan’s readjusted, hand resting precariously against the bare skin in warning. “And be kind to yourself when you say it.”
The last thing he wanted was for Dan to start saying stuff about “deserving to be punished for being weak” or something deprecating.
“I was a prick, to you. I- I’ve been a prick for a good month and chose to wallow instead of just…. talking to you.”
Phil nods in approval and then steels himself, hand twitching against his rear end before he brings it down for the first time against bare skin.
The yelp Dan lets out is almost as loud as his screams from before, a sharp sound that’s pulled from the back of his throat and continues alongside Phil’s unrelenting onslaught against his ass. By the time Dan’s bottom is turning from pink to crimson, Phil’s hand more than stinging, Dan is fully shaking and humming low in his throat.
“Next time you feel this way, you’re going to tell me immediately.” Phil scolds, “Not wait until it’s too late and especially not take it out on me. Because if this happens again, I’ll take you right back over my knee again, got it?”
Dan squirms at that, howling at the swat that Phil lands at the lowest part of his bottom.
“Y-Ye-Yes!”
He’s prepared to finish up with a round of swats against the tops of his thighs when Dan lets out a strained noise. It sounds like a heavy breath of air, almost like a gasp, and it takes Phil a few seconds to realize that he’s crying.
Broken, heavy sobs that have his shoulders shaking and are barely muffled by the fabric of his pants. It has Phil dropping his hand slowly and rubbing his trembling body as Dan cries and cries.
He doesn’t know if he should say something to calm him, doesn’t really know what he would say, so he just sits in silence and continues to rub up and down his spine with Dan splayed over his lap.
Eventually, the sobbing tapers off and Dan is left sniffling and coughing; Phil nudges his face up and frowns at the sight before him. Dan’s eyes are red, puffy, clearly showing the aftermath of his sobs, but they’re also dull. The usual bright shine completely replaced with despair and hopelessness.
Phil is pulling him against his chest for a hug before Dan can say anything.
“There you go, good job.” Phil praises as Dan sniffles again, whining and trying to bury his face back against Phil. He clicks his tongue and kisses the other’s cheek before squeezing them with his fingers. “Don’t be so shy, you’re okay.”
“But it’s—“
“Stop.” Phil’s voice falls stern again and it has Dan squirming on his lap. “You’re okay.”
Dan pouts but doesn’t argue, just nods solemnly as he crawls impossibly closer to Phil. They’re so close, skin touching skin and Dan’s hot breaths of air tickling Phil’s neck, yet it feels so comforting. So grounding.
It doesn’t take long before Dan starts falling asleep like that, eyes struggling to stay open and breathing growing gentler. He wishes Dan wasn’t so freakishly tall or that he himself was freakishly strong because he’d love to be able to carry Dan to bed.
He compromises for nudging the boy awake and guiding him to his feet as he grabs his hand to steady him. Phil guides Dan to his own bedroom, quickly pulling back the covers so he can tuck him in with a soft kiss to his forehead. Crawling in next to him, Phil curls up and his head barely hits the pillow before he hears Dan’s quiet snoring.
There was so much to talk about, plenty of discussion about this new stage in their relationship — roommates or otherwise — yet seeing a peaceful and lighter Dan asleep beside him, hair fanning out like a halo on the pillow, Phil can’t bear to wake him up.
Oh well, there was always tomorrow. Dan would be okay with it.