Tattoos and Flower Crowns--Phan

night & day

Dan Howell let out a shriek of pain as a large fist connected with his face. He was sprawled out in the hallway, textbooks scattered around his limp body. "Please...stop," he pleaded, raising his hands to cover his face.
Two menacing football players hovered above him, sneering at his shaking body. "Gonna beg for mercy, huh? Nice try." The bigger of the players, who had spoken, gave Dan a sharp kick to the ribs. He relished in the brunette's strangled cry of pain. "We're just trying to teach you a lesson, Howell. Maybe you can learn to stop being a faggot."
Dan tried to take a deep breath, but his ribs screamed out in pain, causing him to curl up into a ball. Unable to be restrained any longer, hot tears started flowing down his cheeks.The football players just laughed.
The bigger football player was about to deliver another blow when a black-haired boy entered the school building. He was tall, with broad shoulders. Slight muscles protruded from his arms and stomach; his tight Muse shirt put them on display even more. He had snakebite piercings, an eyebrow ring, and arms covered in tattoos. "What the fuck are you guys doing?" he asked, walking up to Dan's two attackers. The lean boy didn't seem to be afraid of the burly men he had confronted; in fact, they seemed a little afraid of him.
"What do you think we're doing?" the smallest of the players sneered, crossing his arms. He had a vaguely cautious look in his eyes.
"Look, just leave him alone. You dickwads have nothing better to do but to beat up someone that can't defend himself? Fucking cowards." With this comment, the punk boy gave the two boys a withering glance, and strode away. He walked with an unafraid superiority, as if he didn't care about anyone or any of his surroundings.
The larger football player glared at the punk boy's back. "Prick," he said, once he was out of earshot. The second boy turned to the first. "We should probably get to class anyway. I think he's learned his lesson," he said, snickering. The first boy rolled his eyes, and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Fine." They finally retreated, causing Dan to let out a sigh of relief.
He tried sitting up, but his sore ribs caused him to gasp in pain. Once he finally managed to stand, he headed towards the bathroom to deal with his bloodied face.
The dirty mirror in the high school bathroom displayed a skinny, curly-haired boy with a blood-stained flower crown and a dirty pink sweater hanging on his loose frame. Dan glanced down at his white skinny jeans; they were dirty as well. He sighed, and dabbed a wet paper towel on his nose and around his hairline. The towel came back soaked with blood.
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, making Dan jump slightly. He was surprised to see the punk boy from earlier. "You alright?" he asked nonchalantly, leaning against the sink beside Dan. He crossed his muscular arms, putting on display many black dragons and other miscellaneous designs inked onto his skin. Dan realized that he'd been asked a question, and quickly fumbled out an answer: "Oh, um, yeah, I guess so," his cheeks reddened. "Thanks for helping me out earlier."
The punk boy shook his head. "It's nothing," he said.
Dan continued to dab his head and nose, wincing at the pain. The blood continued to trickle from the wound in his head; his nose had stopped bleeding a while back.
"Here, I got it," the other boy said, grabbing the wet paper towel from Dan's hand and touching it to his head. Dan said nothing, blushing madly with no chance of concealing it. He saw a faint smirk appear on the punk boy's face. "I'm Phil, by the way," he said. "Phil Lester."
"I'm Dan," Dan replied. "Dan Howell." He suppressed a yelp of pain as Phil applied pressure to his forehead.
"The bleeding won't stop unless I press hard," Phil quietly explained as he continued to hold the wet paper towel to the pastel boy's head. After a couple of awkwardly-silent minutes, he removed the cloth. "There, I think it's stopped."
Dan glanced in the mirror. Sure enough, the blood had clotted at the place where his cut was. "Thank you," he said gratefully.
"Just don't tell anyone I did it," Phil said. His tone was sarcastic, so Dan let out a small giggle. "I promise," he said.
Phil seemed to consider something for a moment, before opening his mouth again. "Hey, do you want to get out of here?"
"You mean skip school?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know..." Dan seemed reluctant.
However, Phil was adamant. "Dan, you've been treated like absolute shit today. Do you really want to stay in this hellhole?"
It didn't take a lot to convince the pastel boy. "You're right," he said.
Phil smiled, a feature that made his menacing appearance soften a bit. It was then that Dan noticed his eyes; blue as the sky, a stark contrast to his black clothes and tattoos. "Alright. Let's get the fuck out of here," he said, opening the bathroom door for Dan on his way out.
Phil led Dan towards his car in the senior parking lot. Once they found it, Dan discovered that it was heavily customized; cheap black paint covered the exterior, although there were places where the paint had been scratched off; orange and yellow flames leapt from the rear to the front. The car's original interior had been shabbily replaced by black leather upholstery (which had ripped in several places). Dan laughed, despite himself; this car was exactly what he had expected from someone like Phil.
Phil must've sensed Dan's amusement. "I was 16 when I got it customized. Back then, I actually thought it was cool." Dan laughed again.
They climbed in the old car, doors creaking as they were pulled shut. Phil ignited the engine and took off, heading down the highway to an unknown place.
"Where are we going?" Dan asked after a brief silence.
"There's this place I go...whenever I'm feeling like shit. It's quiet, and peaceful, and beautiful, and I just...thought you'd like it," Phil said, swallowing. The sunlight streaming through the windshield reflected off of his lip piercings. "You know, that wasn't the first time I saw you getting beaten up in the hallway."
"It wasn't?"
Phil shook his head. "I saw you almost every day, either getting beat up or teased about something. I don't know why I didn't say anything earlier."
This must be his way of apologizing, Dan thought. He gave Phil a small smile. "It's okay," he said reassuringly. "I'm glad you helped me when you did."
Phil still looked a bit guilty, but he nodded. The two boys sat in comfortable silence until they reached their destination.
Phil eventually turned onto a small dirt road, barely visible from the highway. Tree branches scraped along the car as it traveled down the beaten path. Dan looked in wonder as they slowly approached a small clearing, surrounded by blossoming trees and filled with the sweet song of wild birds.
Phil parked the car by the entrance of the clearing and killed the engine, giving Dan a small smile before climbing out of the car. Once they were both outside, Phil grabbed Dan's hand, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. "This way," Phil said, leading Dan to a large log by the edge of the clearing.
Dan and Phil sat on the log, looking at the pleasant surroundings. The trees were blooming in shades of pink, yellow, and white; their large branches sliced the sunlight into ribbons that rested comfortably on the boys' faces. Dan could see why Phil was drawn to this place; it was peaceful.
Dan realized they were still holding hands, and blushed. "Did you find this yourself?" he asked Phil, looking into his eyes (that matched the color of the sky).
Phil nodded. "I was just driving one day, and found the dirt road. It's how I first scratched up my car, but I don't care; this place is so quiet, and wonderful." He smiled.
It was strange, seeing Phil's tough exterior replaced by such a soft, caring one. In this moment, he seemed more of a tattooed teddy bear than a menacing punk.
"Can I ask you something?" Dan asked, suddenly returning from his thoughts.
"Of course," Phil responded, looking at Dan with curiosity.
"Why do you..dress in all black? And have tattooes and piercings and stuff?" Dan asked bluntly, hoping Phil wouldn't get offended.
"I've always liked the color black. It isn't just a color, it's every color in the color spectrum blended together. As for the tattooes and piercings, they mean a lot to me. They remind me of who I was before, and where I'm going." Phil smiled lightheartedly. "Plus, isn't this dragon badass?" he said, gesturing to the ink on his forearm. Dan laughed.
"So what about you, pretty boy? Why do you wear light clothes and flower crowns?" Phil asked, absentmindedly stroking Dan's hand with his thumb.
Dan thought for a moment. "Pastels are so light and easy to look at," he answered. "I like simple, pretty things. I always have."
Phil nodded thoughtfully. He turned completely to face Dan, momentarily letting go of his hand. "You know, you're beautiful."
Dan blushed, his customary response to compliments. It's not like he got many, anyway.
Phil continued on. "You really are. Your curly hair and the flower crowns and your shy smile are all so adorable. Ever since I saw you, I've been drawn to you. Even though it sounds creepy," he said, ending with a small laugh.
Dan smiled, looking at Phil. "You liar."
"I'm not lying!"
"Oh, come on, Phil. You're literally tall, dark, and handsome. Don't even try to compliment me."
Phil laughed. "You're so cheesy."
"You like it."
"Maybe."
The two boys laughed again. Dan's laugh slowly became a yawn, his eyes drooping.
"You tired?" Phil asked.
"Yeah..." Dan said, laying his head on Phil's shoulder. There was something so warm, so comforting about him that he quickly fell asleep.
When Dan awoke, the sun was just beginning to set. How many hours had they been there?
He asked this question to Phil, who said, "Just a few." To Dan's apologetic look, he said, "Don't worry, I really don't mind. Plus, you're cute when you sleep."
Dan smirked, although he was blushing. "You know, out of context, that sounds really creepy." This sent them into a fit of laughter.
"You know what I mean," Phil said after a little while. By this time, the sun had fully set, darkening the sky to a beautiful black color. Out in the woods, the stars were fully displayed, dotting the night sky with pinpricks of golden light.
"We really should leave soon," Phil said, standing up. Dan stood up as well, but grabbed Phil's hand before he could walk towards the car. "Just a little bit longer, please? I've never seen the stars so beautiful."
Phil nodded. "They're not nearly as beautiful as you." His voice was barely audible, but Dan heard every word.
"You know, this is going to be really cliche, but..."
"What?" Phil asked, but his voice was silenced by Dan kissing him. Their soft lips pressed together, igniting fireworks in the two boys. Phil's hands traveled to Dan's waist, and pulled them closer together. They kissed for a few more seconds, before pulling away to breathe. Dan laughed, and Phil did too, the moon bathing their faces in pale light.
"Do you remember our first kiss?" Dan would ask Phil, seven years later.
"Of course I do," Phil said, pecking Dan on the cheek. Phil hardly ever wore black anymore; he instead wore tees covered in animals or other silly designs. However, he always wore his lip and eyebrow rings, because he knew Dan liked them.
Dan, similarly, had abandoned his light-colors phase for dark colors; however, he constantly had his nails painted the same pastel color of pink. Although Dan and Phil had changed, not much was different; they were still the punk boy and the pastel boy from high school, with the same endless love they had shared in the past seven years.
"You really think I would forget that? That was the best day of my life," Phil continued. Dan smiled up at his husband, his eyes filled with a love that had never faltered since the day Phil asked him to skip school.