Everyone knew something was up when Dan Howell, the most pined after bad boy of the school, showed up to school on Monday with a neck full of hickeys.
The thing that made it unbelievable was that he'd only been here a week.
He denied everyone who came after him with a sly smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye, leaving everyone confused as hell.
Who had finally gotten to him?
Dan sauntered down the hallway with his smirk he had become known for, completely aware that every life form in his general vicinity was staring at him. More specifically his neck.
He knew who did it; of course he did, but he had absolutely no intention in ever revealing who it was, or ever seeing them again.
(The last part was a lie, but he'd always blame it on nicely timed coincidences instead of on his own free will)
~
The bruises were fading, and Dan couldn't admit to himself that he was at least a little sad to see them go.
It had certainly earned its place on Dan's list of best moments of his life, and it wasn't going down without a fight.
It was for this reason that he risked the person's identity (and not because he missed them) and went to look for them.
During his free period, Dan walked to the library, hoping to see the enigma that he was unconsciously infatuated with.
He spotted them immediately.
Phil Lester.
One year below him. Softspoken. Absolute nerd.
And he loved it.
He was standing in front of a bookshelf, reading the back of a fat and glossy green book that looked like some sort of textbook.
Coming up behind him, Dan whispered "Art supply closet. Five minutes." And swiftly walked away as if he hadn't said anything.
Phil didn't look up. He knew who it was.
~
The door to the closet opened and they were on eachother as they had been a week ago, Dan's arms immediately around the others neck while Phil tangled his in the chocolate brown locks.
The kisses were fast, heated, leaving only the occasional smacking sound of their lips to fill the science.
Phil pulled away so their foreheads were touching. "Been hearing things about you."
"Really, like what?"
Phil chuckled. "About who your secret lover is."
Dan silenced his amused laughter by pressing a firm kiss to Phil's lips. "Don't really mind."
And suddenly, everything was heat again, the black-haired boy nipping at Dan's neck once more.
He exhaled in content, loving the feel of the boy's mouth in his neck.
Phil's mouth stopped moving, Dan letting out an impatient whine. "You miss having marks, don't you?"
"Haven't we established this?" He breathed.
He leaned impossibly closer, punctuating his words with fierce kisses to the space behind Dan's ear. "I know, I just, want to, hear you, say it."
At this point, Dan was some sort of cross between jelly and rubber, taking away his ability to form coherent sentences.
"I- I uh," he gulped as Phil nibbled on his ear lobe. "Please,"
Without saying anything, he got started. Phil dragged his teeth across the sensitive skin, sucking and nipping until it was the size of a golf ball.
He took a moment to step back and admire his work (and Dan's flustered face) before moving back in.
Phil sucked tiny, yet more prominent bruises into various areas of the blissed out boy's neck.
Dan gasped every time he felt Phil's mouth move to a new and untouched area.
Finally, the masterpiece was complete.
Hickeys littered the older boy's neck and Phil's lips were red and slightly swollen.
Dan looked at his reflection in the glass of a cabinet, admiring the new marks.
"Damn. I can't wait to see you again."
