A Royal Pain

CHAPTER ELEVEN

smut warning ;D

Dan could say with complete certainty that he didn't have a thing for feet. He'd never thought much of them, actually, other than that they were the things he walked on. They were useful, he supposed, seeing as he wouldn't really be able to get around without them.

But now, they seemed so much more than just things he stood on. Now, Phil was touching them, and Dan felt as if they had about a billion more nerves than usual. He'd started casually massaging Dan's feet mere moments ago, as if that was the type of thing to be done when sharing a bath with your best friend. Dan almost felt the need to remind Phil that he was in love with him again, but he wasn't sure he would be able to speak.

He still couldn't quite believe that they were sharing a bath either. He'd do anything for a peek into Phil's mind, to just have a glimpse of what Phil was thinking. Who was so lazy that they'd refuse to go to their own room and take a bath in solitude? But it wasn't like there was some underlying meaning. Dan was just projecting—he was so desperate that he was willing to think something as delusional as Phil having some semblance of feelings for him.

"Why are you doing that?" Dan asked quietly. He was still staring, quite determinedly, at the wall. Not a single time had he looked at Phil, though occasionally he could see him moving out of the corner of his eye. Dan didn't know if he could handle seeing so much of his skin on display.

"Do you want me to stop?" he replied, steadily kneading the arch of Dan's foot. He was an expert masseuse, Dan was sure, because there was no possible other answer for why Dan was coming close to moaning with every movement of his fingers. It was embarrassing (and strange) to say that he was getting turned on from this, and he could only be glad that the water was as high as it was. He supposed it had to do with the fact that Dan would get turned on at the prospect of Phil touching him virtually anywhere. He just liked the feeling of Phil's fingers on his skin, be it Dan's arm or thigh or... foot.

"I guess not," Dan answered. Finally, unable to help it any longer, he looked at Phil, who was already staring steadily at him. Dan glanced away again with a blush. "Did you want me to—reciprocate?" he asked awkwardly. It sounded weirdly as if he was offering something sexual, but really it was just a massage.

"No thanks," Phil said easily. "I'm too ticklish."

And so the massage continued. Dan struggled to get himself under control. He shouldn't be this affected by Phil's hands on his body, and yet all Dan wanted to do was press himself up against Phil from head to toe. He wanted Phil's arms around him, holding him close and tight.

Dan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the porcelain rim of the tub. Phil was in the tub with him. And he was touching him. But at least he wasn't talking to him.

"What should we talk about?" Phil said then. Dan groaned. And then realized that he'd groaned, and opened his eyes. He tried with all his might to keep his eyes level with Phil's, to not let them slip lower, to trace the water droplet that slid from his collar bone, and hung from his nipple for a few, achingly long seconds, before sliding the rest of the way down his toned torso, to drop into the tub. Dan blinked.

"Can we not just be silent?"

Phil laughed, as if this was a joke. His fingers had stopped moving over Dan's foot, but he was still holding onto it, letting it rest on his thigh. Dan slouched lower in the water, endlessly grateful for the abundance of bubbles. It was oddly comfortable, and as Phil's gentle fingers started massaging his ankles, he let his eyes slip shut.

—

Dan woke with a start, realizing all at once that he had fallen asleep. His head was still rested on the edge of the tub, but much of his body was pressed against Phil, and one of his legs was wrapped around him entirely. The bubbles had grown sparse, and part of Dan's hip had managed to breach the surface, leaving part of his arse visible and vulnerable to the cold air.