Phan Fluff One-Shots

Old Habits, Young Love, and Other Things That Just Won't Die

By: blueberryphancakes on ao3

Word count: 4,444

Summary: Despite their branding, Dan and Phil haven't actually been friends for all of the seven years that they've known each other. For almost two of those years, 'best friend' was just a label they used on the internet, a clever disguise used to keep people from knowing what they really were. Because from the day they met until the day they broke up, Dan and Phil were something else entirely. Not something more. Just something else.
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Phil is making soup when he hears it. It starts as a low whine and gradually grows in volume.

"Phiiil."

"Phii-iillll."

"Phiiiiiiiilllllllllllll."

"What?" Phil calls back after he decides he can't ignore it anymore.

No response.

He throws some chopped celery in the pot.

"PHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLL."

Phil sighs and turns off the stove. He trudges upstairs to the office to find Dan sitting at the computer, editing their most recent Undertale video. Well, the editing software is up anyway. Dan is sitting in the office chair with his head hanging back over the edge. His eyes are closed.

"You rang?"

"I'm tired of editing," Dan complains.

"Want me to take over for a bit?" Phil offers, walking up to Dan and placing his hands on the back of the chair.

"No, it's already partially edited in my style. They'll notice if the swears start getting bleeped out halfway through."

"You could just not swear while we're filming. Save us both some hassle."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Phil hums in acknowledgement. "So if you don't want me to edit, why'd you call me up here?"

Dan's eyes flutter open at that, wide and sparkling and just a little bit mischievous. "Entertain me," he says, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice.

Phil doesn't know what comes over him.

He doesn't know why he leans down. He doesn't know why he presses his lips to Dan's.

He doesn't know why Dan doesn't pull away.

Surprisingly, Phil is the one to pull away after a few seconds. He steps back and watches Dan stretch his neck out, as if he is trying to chase Phil's lips but gives up when he realises they're too far away. There is a faint blush painting Dan's cheeks, and his eyes are shut again. Phil is grateful for that, as he's fairly sure that what little color he usually has in his own face has drained away completely.

Dan lets out a small sigh, lifts his head, and slowly swivels around in his chair. He cracks his eyelids open and raises a single eyebrow. "What was that for?"

"You know. Old habits," Phil says and waves his hand in place of the rest. It isn't the real reason — he is pretty sure they're five years past being able to call anything like that a habit anymore — but he honestly isn't sure what the real reason is. "Sorry."

"No, no," Dan says, voice overly calm in a way that can't possibly be genuine. "It's okay." Phil expects him to wipe his mouth off any second, but he doesn't.

It isn't until Phil leaves the room, apologizing two more times and running into the doorframe once on his way out, that he notices his own fingers ghosting over his lips, which still tingle with the memory of Dan's.