BURN ; phan

e l e v e n

"Daniel Howell?" The oldest of the Lester siblings nearly shouted as he thumped his way down the hall. Phil had locked himself in his room, leaving Daisy to nap in her crib. He watched his paint cup shake on his dresser, the greywater swirling. 

Phil didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say. His heart was beating at speeds he didn't know were possible. He just wanted to disappear, he wanted to curl under his blankets and think about the individual cracks on Dan's lips. But instead, he sat at the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands, wondering how he could have been so stupid for not hearing the door open. For a split second, in the living room with Dan, he had forgotten all about Martyn. 

"Phil?" He called from behind the door. The accused boy didn't answer. "Can we talk? Please."

"I don't want to talk."

"Then don't," A soft thump came when the boy rested his head against the door. "But I'm tired of your silence, you've been quiet for years."

Phil itched roughly at his arm, drawing angry red marks with his nails. He didn't like talking. Talking led to communication, which led to bridges being made and he really didn't like people. He felt like a seal about to be attacked by a god damn shark.

He already had this happen with his mother, she knew him now. The real him and that was scary enough, but now Martyn? The younger wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for everyone to finally see him inside out. He barely knew who he was, how was he supposed to conform to the box that everyone wanted to put him in.

Would his dad even be proud? Would he hug his son and smile when he told him about Daniel? Or would he shake his head and bow his eyes? The thought made Phil want to vomit. 

"Martyn?" Phil spoke, not bothering to hide the way his voice wavered.

"Yes?" 

"Do you think dad would be proud of me?" He looked up at the door even though he couldn't see the boy he was speaking to.

There was a pause, a moment of silence that ticked in Phil's chest. "Of course," came next, his voice hoarse and distraught. "He'd be so proud of you." The words catch on Martyn's lips as his voice cracks.

Phil almost wants to open the door.

"I keep fucking up and I don't know how to stop." The black-haired boy digs his palms into his eyes, falling back onto his bed. 

"That's just what happens, Phil, you have to fuck up to get better."

"I hate it though. I think mom hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," the sunbeams through the boy's blinds momentarily, the door remains locked. "I promise, she doesn't hate you, Phil. Yes, you have been a pain for the past few years, but that's just life. That's just what happens. You have people who love you, you have me and mom and Daisy, and you have a whole team of men who look up to you as their captain. You're a killer swimmer and you could literally be friends with anyone you want. No one cares if you kiss boys or not."

Nate does, he almost wanted to say but refrained from. He doesn't know what to say next so he gets off his bed and opens the door. Martyn looks exhausted, mentally and physically, probably from having to pick up everything Phil fucks up. They're about the same height now, eye to eye. They don't speak, the older only wraps his brother in his arms and holds him into they're sure the clock has stopped ticking and they're the only ones left on the Earth.

They hug each other because they couldn't hug their father.

.

.

.

Phil is granted his phone back a day before his suspension is up. His mom held the device in her hand for a very long time, simply peering into his eyes until he was mildly uncomfortable before handing it over. Within thirty minutes, Phil had plans to pick up Dan from his house and take him out to lunch. Kathryn even let him borrow the car so they wouldn't freeze.

Now, standing outside the Howell door, he debates rather or not this was a good idea. He didn't ask if this was a date, he didn't even know what he was doing. He just knew he wanted to see Dan. After a long twenty seconds, he brings his fist to the door and knocks. Only a mere ten seconds pass again until the door is opening and Phil instantly regrets not bringing flowers because holy shit Dan looks good and he suddenly realizes that this is indeed a date because how could he ever let this boy go again.

The underclassman is wearing a tan turtle neck with plain black jeans but Phil can't help but think he looks gorgeous. He gapes at him for a moment before shaking his head slightly to try and rearrange his thoughts, Dan laughs, his cheeks red and it's not because of the cold.

"You look... good." Dan chuckles, stepping out of his house and closing the door behind him. Phil's legs kick into motion as they start their way back to the car. How was he supposed to drive again? 

"Thank you. You look fantastic." He motions over Dan's outfit. "Seriously, all of this, golden. Keep doing that."

Dan blushes, looking down at his feet before crossing the road to get inside the passenger seat. Phil slides into the front, starting the engine and cranking on the heat. 

"Is Martyn mad at you?" Dan asks sheepishly, biting down on his bottom lip. 

"No, we had a big talk and what-not." 

"You did?" Dan smiles.

"Yeah, we did," Phil confirms again, giggling this time as he pulls out onto the road. 

He takes the boy to a small cafe/bookstore where they hold hands in line and kick each other under the table. Phil nearly chokes on a biscuit and Dan almost spits his drink out through his nose. They laugh hard enough for the rest of the planet and drink so much coffee they're jumping and can't hold a sentence once they leave. Dan bought a book about a girl who can read minds and Phil bought a bunch of gel pens for his artwork. 

They don't head back to the car, instead Dan catches Phil by the elbow and steers him down the street towards another store where they sell funny hats. They take turns trying on top hats to fedoras until Dan wants to see Phil in checkered pants so he forces him to change in the dressing door. The older gets his revenge by picking out a yellow romper and somehow convincing his date to try it on. They take weird pictures in the mirror and end up making out against the wall of the bathrooms. 

They stay out until dark, and even then Phil somehow got his mom to let him come how past curfew. He walks Dan up to the door, the moonlight guiding them to the steps. Dan leans against the door, a smile on his lips. Phil cups his cheek and leans down to capture his lips in his own.

"Thanks for the date, Phil Lester." is the last thing he hears before the brunet slips back into the house.

That night, the older paints the only thing on his mind: Daniel Howell's winter cracked lips.