Phil Lester Saved Me -phanfic

Chapter 1

Dan Howell's alarm rang, eardrum-burstingly loud. He groaned and pulled the duvet over his head. He had been torn away from a particularly cosy dream; full of sunlight and the comforting sight of a particular pair of blue eyes. He dragged himself out of bed and checked his phone. He would have to get ready in the next 10 minutes, or else he would be late for work. He looked at his bed and bit his lip. A lazy pajama day had never seemed more tempting.

He could ring in sick, but the partner had warned him that he had exceeded the amount of 'mental health days' they could give him at the law firm without cutting his pay. With unpaid bills piling up on the kitchen counter, that was something he literally could not afford. And so he liberally coated his hair in dry shampoo, ran his GHD over the curls that had appeared overnight, wriggled into a suit and dashed out to catch the Tube. Before leaving, he placed his hand on his dream journal, then drew it away. No. Too dangerous.

On the Tube, he tried to make himself as small as possible and let his mind drift away. That adorable laugh, that smile...he closed his eyes and imagined what that pale skin would feel like against his own. The lady beside him coughed. Dan hurriedly crossed his legs, his face going tomato-coloured. He hurried out of the Tube a stop early, hoping he would never see her again as long as he lived.

Dan had become a little, shall we say, obsessed with a particular BBC weatherman. Watching Phil Lester on the 10 o'clock news had become Dan's favourite part of the day. He was just so adorable- so enthusiastic about his job, always making horrendous puns (what are meteorologists afraid of? The atmos-fear!) and that laugh- oh god.

In another world, this would be perfectly fine. Being bisexual was not a big deal anymore. Having a crush on a minor celebrity was perfectly normal, and he wasn't the only person in the Phil Lester fandom. He hadn't been voted Buzzfeed's 'Cutest Weatherman' of the year for nothing. However, Phil was one of Dan's clients.

Phil had just wandered into the building one day with an overly extortionate parking ticket, asking for help. It wasn't too difficult a case, so the partner gave it to Dan. It hadn't been much; a consultation, a few emails back and forth, a morning in the district court; but it had been enough for Dan to fall head over heels in like with the other man.

Several months later, Dan was still kicking himself for not asking Phil out for coffee, getting his number, even saying 'hey, you're a weatherman, right? I've seen you on telly and you do a great job!' Something. ANYTHING. He had opened up a draft email to him several times and typing a message again and again before deleting it and putting his head in his hands.

When Dan reached his desk, before doing anything productive, he opened an incognito browser on his computer and pulled up Phil's twitter. He liked to leave it open in the background during his work day. That little 'ping' would cut through all the horrendous client emails and filing and quadruple-expresso brain haze and make him smile. Phil's tweets were a joy; cute selfies in the BBC studio, weather updates complete with puns and gaming references and, of course, pictures of kittens. Even the thought of Phil smiling as he tapped out a tweet made Dan feel warm and happy.

He looked at Phil's account and his stomach fell into his shoes. There was a picture of Phil in hospital, with a cast on all the way up to his thigh. The caption read; 'Leg will be out of action for 8-10 weeks! So angry (lion emoji) Hopefully will get everything sorted with my lawyer tomorrow!'

Dan blinked, unable to comprehend what he had just read. He scrolled down a few more hospital selfies until he reached a two tweets; 'Thank sweet bunny rabbits for the invention of morphine' and 'Just been in a hit-and-run! Hurts so bad...but I have the plate no.-I am onto you (eyes emoji)' The timestamps were all from yesterday afternoon.

Dan scrolled down until he reached tweets he had already read, then clicked the little 'x' and closed twitter. His hands were shaking as he opened his email. Surely Phil would get a different lawyer for this, a proper BBC damages lawyer-

From: phillester@bbcweather.com

To:

CC: I need you, Danny boy!

From the first time they met, Phil had insisted on calling Dan by his first name. 'I don't like Mr.Howell,' he said. 'It makes you sound like a maths teacher or something.'

The lift pinged open, and a familiar laugh burst into the office. Dan jerked his head up and stared open-mouthed as Phil Lester, hobbled out on crutches onto the grey office carpet. Cat, one of Dan's co-workers, followed him out. She pointed to where Dan was sitting and Phil's eyes roamed over the cubicles, then met his, and he smiled. Dan waved back, stunned.

He felt nervous anxiety creeping up on him, threatening to choke him. He was bad enough just sitting at his desk on a regular day, hating everything. But an unexpected meeting with the man he had been obsessing over for months? He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it out. Just like the therapist (in the last of the two sessions he could afford) had told him to.

He stood up from his desk, and held out his hand. Phil looked at it with a bemused smile.

'Oh, sorry, left-handed, sorry,' Dan blustered, holding out his right hand.

'I –er, I would take you up on that handshake, but I'm afraid I'd probably fall over,' Phil laughed, looking down at his crutches. Cat shot Dan a withering look.

'Oh. My. God. I am sorry, I am so sorry, I-'

Cat interrupted him. 'Mr. Lester. I'll bring you along to one of our meeting rooms so you can discuss your case with Mr. Howell, shall I?'

She walked ahead, chatting to Phil, while Dan tried in vain to cool down his flaming face. That was probably definitely one of the biggest fails he had ever committed. Dan wanted to crawl into a hole, bury himself, and stay there forever. He knew without any doubt he would be having cringe-flashbacks of that moment several times a day for the rest of his life.

Cat leaned in and whispered to Dan as she closed the glass door of the meeting room; 'You better not fuck this one up, Dan, or so help me... I am not saving your beanpole ass again,'

Dan gulped and turned around to face the blue-eyed man, beaming up at him from a seat at the head of the meeting table. Phil's crutches already had stickers of kittens all over them. Dan pushed down the urge to gather him into his arms and cuddle him, sat down and tried to look as serious as possible.

'Before we start,' Phil said, 'I have to tell you something super-cool.'

'Y-yes?' Dan stammered.

'I just noticed, we have the same hair, just in different directions! We're like hair twins!' He laughed, and Dan melted on the inside. 'Haha...hair twins.'

7WiIFT