La Muerte Subita

Thank God the Bathroom Locks

The sound of heels clicking against the polished concrete floor startles Phil to attention. He swivels slightly in the office chair, careful not to dislodge Dan who was resting against his shoulder.
"Hey" Nicole says quietly, the small heels of her boots lifting off the floor as she tiptoes closer, "I've got some coffee for you two."
She sets two paper cups on the desk where Phil is going over the data to reveal to the public.

It smells amazing.

Thank you." Phil smiles, a hand coming up to keep Dan from slipping. Nicole nods and heads back to where Hanayu is talking with Jack and Mark, who have just finished their levels. Phil turns back to the screen, making sure to highlight the scene of him and Dan in Five Nights at Freddie's 2.
He can't help but watch it, though; his hands on the larger boy.
It's a bit of a rush to see it from an outside perspective.

Dan stirs and Phil quickly lets the video continue, making sure to put in unnecessary jump-cuts for the phans. It only takes a few minutes for Phil to finish up writing editing notes and placing tags. Once done, Phil takes a swig of hot coffee, taps on the table for a minute... sighs, moving Dan from his shoulder and pushing his chair back to stand. He heads for the bathroom, across the room and down a little hall.

Thankfully, the faucet is not automatic, so Phil lets it run, putting his head under the flow of water.
It's refreshing; takes his mind off of the feeling of panic. The rush of life or death. Perhaps he likes it a little too much...
"Phil?"
It's that soft, half-asleep voice; one that Phil knows too well. He shoves his head further into the sink.
"You okay?"
Of course Dan wouldn't leave it alone. A large hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, and Phil pulls himself out from the sink, uncaring that his hair is sopping wet. Beside him, Dan removes his hand.
"I thought maybe the games made you sick. You disappeared."
Phil can't stop thinking of his hand on Dan's smooth skin; about the look of concern, that moment... He doesn't realize when, but somehow he's pressing Dan up against the counter, leaning him over the sink: kissing him.

Dan's surprised squeak doesn't stop him.
Dan tastes like coffee and the chocolate brownie Hanayu had given them earlier. Strong hands grip his arms and it only spurs him on. He licks across Dan's mouth, eliciting his name as a harsh gasp;
"Phil!"
Phil never really noticed his a bit of a power trip until now, as he's biting Dan's plush bottom lip with groan.

It's always exciting, kissing Dan, but when the larger boy is under him, pressed roughly against a counter top with Phil's tongue in his mouth, well. He might be addicted; enough not to hear Dan's plea until he's shoved far enough away to stop kissing him.
"Phil! The door isn't locked! What if someone comes in? Is this really the place to be doing... this!?"
He's right, but Phil isn't letting him go just yet. Phil wraps his arm around Dan's back and pulls him around roughly, pinning him to the door and kissing at his neck and under his jaw. He knows Dan isn't one for conflict, but he doesn't want to upset him either, so he snakes a hand around and clicks the lock into place.
"There" he murmurs, and his voice is a little deeper, a little gravelly with the desire to run his hands across every inch of Dan he's allowed. The quiet, reverent "Phil" that falls from his upturned face cascades over Phil's nerves and god, he's screwed.
He's definitely losing his grip on reality.

He's somehow managed to get Dan's shirt rucked up over his chest as he runs pale hands over warm skin. Dan has his hand in his mouth to quiet the gasps and moans Phil pulls from him. When he pushes down under the hem of Dan's black jeans and over boney hips, Dan's entire body spasms. The deep, wanton "Oh." can't be stopped by his hand, and Phil knows they're both in over their heads now.
It's not that he wants sex; no.
Sex is good, but right now, this feels like an affirmation.
Like somehow, this will make Phil's nerves calm, like this will erase the animatronic hands that left bruises on his waist. Could undo the sight of Dan being dragged away, screaming: screaming for him.

Phil bites down around Dan's ribs, his fingers gripping around a solid thigh as he pulls it up and presses himself harder against him. Dan's stuttering, not aloud but a desperate gasping.
"Its okay, Phil" he's chanting, "I'm here."
Phil doesn't realize he's crying until they're both on the floor, Dan cradling him in strong arms, tears dripping into already wet hair.
"I'm sorry" Phil cries, and Dan shakes his head where it rests on his, pressing his face against the top of Phil's head.
"Don't say that, Phil." Dan laughs, hollow. "Don't say that."
They sit together on the floor for a while, caught up in each other.

Eventually, they dissolve into quiet conversation, still holding each other close.
"When they grabbed you, I couldn't move. I was so scared." Dan breathes.
Phil nods,
"I'm sorry." Phil responds. Dan laughs again, a little humor in it this time.
"It grabbed me pretty hard." Phil says, lifting his shirt to reveal the large bruises in the shape of a hand; spanning all around his thin waist.
Dan gasps.
"When it was dragging me, it dislodged my contacts. I couldn't really see, couldn't move. I could only hear you screaming"
Phil's chest is tight with the admission;
"When it threw me into the next level, I couldn't get back. I tried, but... there was no way."
Dan is running his fingers through Phil's hair, listening.
"When you got taken, it's was like a slap to the face. I sat there and let you do everything yourself; I let you get taken away. I let it happen, I did nothing to stop it."
He's crying again, quiet this time. Tears just flowing silently down pale cheeks.
"I'm sorry."

When they rejoin the others, Phil's hair is mostly dry and Dan's eyes are only a little red. No one questions it, no one says anything, they just let them sit at their desk, a little too close. It's nice to have a little privacy.