Work Text:
“Are you almost fucking done already?” comes Phil’s voice around the doorway to the office.
Dan turns his eyes to the left at the sudden appearance of his impatient boyfriend. “Not yet, bubby. Barely gotten anything done since you asked ten minutes ago.”
Phil throws his head back with an exaggerated sigh, leaning one hip into the far corner of the desk. “Ugh, why is it taking so long?”
“You’re the one who insisted on the stupid sponsored video going out tomorrow.”
“Can’t you take a few minutes’ break and give me attention or something?”
Dan tilts his head to the side at the sheer audacity of Phil’s bratty whine and holds his gaze for several agonising seconds.
“Ugh, I hate you,” Phil relents, turning to leave the office.
“If you promise to behave,” Dan says quickly, not about to let his boyfriend be upset with him, “you can sit in here while I finish this.”
Phil lights up, immediately starting toward Dan again.
“If…” Dan repeats, giving Phil a pointed look. “And only if you don’t distract me.”
“I won’t…” Phil lies with a smirk.
Dan rolls his eyes then jerks his head toward the other office chair. Phil giggles and jumps into it, sliding up to Dan’s side and tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder.
“Excuse you,” Dan says, his hands returned to their place atop the keyboard. Phil looks up at him through his pretty eyelashes. “I said don’t distract me.”
“You’re no fun when you’re grumpy,” Phil grumbles, pulling back and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Conses are quencing, bitch. Your actions.” Dan turns back to his screen and drags the clip he’s been editing to the right place. He feels Phil’s eyes on him, his gaze impatient as ever. Heated like nothing else.
Dan ignores him, his irritation at working well into the night on what was supposed to be their day off more than fuelling his determination to get this thing done. Phil’s lucky he’s been indisposed with a migraine all day, otherwise Dan would’ve absolutely made him do this shit on his own.
Dan doesn’t have much left. He reckons it won’t even be another twenty minutes before he can save the file and leave it to upload to YouTube so he can give Phil his undivided attention.
But Dan is mean. He is going to drag this out as much as he can because he’s been with Phil long enough to know exactly the reason for this interruption. He knows exactly what Phil wants out of him, and he is going to do the impossible and deprive him of it for just a little while longer.
Phil is bad at sitting still. He is always moving in some way, fidgeting his fingers or wiggling his toes or dancing along to whatever song is in his head, and today is no different. Dan’s got his soft Lo-Fi playlist going and can still hear the tiny squeaks of Phil’s chair as he rocks himself back and forth.
Dan takes one sideways look at Phil and Phil freezes, their eyes locked. Dan raises one eyebrow and Phil deflates with a frown.
Dan turns back to the screen. He adds a sound effect and a zoom and a tiny box of text and then Phil’s rocking again. His foot brushes Dan’s, and Dan can’t tell if it was intentional.
“Phil.”
“Please, can I sit on your lap or something? I just need something, this is killing me, haven’t seen you all day.”
“We recorded a bloody podcast this morning,” Dan mumbles, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing a hand down his face. He stares at the spliced up video in front of him before turning slowly to face Phil. Phil with his messy blond hair and pleading eyes and wiggly hips like a puppy being taunted with a treat. Who is Dan kidding? He is helpless to deny Phil whatever he wants.
“Fucking Christ, come on, then.”
Phil giggles and jumps up, slinging a leg over Dan’s lap and settling atop him with practised ease.
“But I swear, if you distract me…”
“I won’t, I won’t,” Phil grumbles, pressing his face into the crook of Dan’s neck and smiling. He sighs contentedly and wiggles his hips once before relaxing. “Thanks.”
Dan rolls his eyes but presses a kiss to Phil’s temple before returning to his edit.
Phil makes it several minutes without moving this time. Dan finds the pressure of his body atop his legs and chest grounding, and speeds through the next minute of footage, only two to go and then the sponsor clip in the middle of the video. But Phil twitches and Dan’s hands falter on the keyboard. If he didn’t know better, he’d call that twitch a grind of hips. Just subtle enough to be considered an accident from anyone but Phil. Phil knows exactly what he’s doing.
Dan will not give in.
He adjusts camera angles, zooms in on their faces, adds subtitles to the incoherent screaming from both of them. Another twenty seconds of video done and Phil moves again. Bigger, more deliberate. His face pushes closer. His arms tighten around Dan’s shoulders. He lets out the tiniest sigh and definitely knows that Dan knows what he’s doing.
Dan will not give in. He continues clicking, typing, dragging, adjusting. He clips, cuts, removes, stretches. He slows his pace but only to draw out Phil’s impatience. If the little shit thinks he can distract Dan, Dan will simply take longer so they both suffer.
Only when Phil presses the tiniest of kisses to Dan’s jugular do Dan’s hands freeze altogether on the keyboard. He holds his body perfectly still just to see what Phil does. It’s several agonising seconds before Phil kisses him again.
“Philip.”
“What.”
Dan swallows. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting.”
“You’re trying to distract me.”
The half second of hesitation tells Dan everything he needs to know. “No, I’m not.”
“Stop kissing me and wiggling your hips, you horny bitch.”
“I’m not!” Phil’s attempt to argue is weak and they both know it. Dan can hear the smile in his voice.
“Longer you try fucking me up, longer this is gonna take.”
“I’m not doing anything.” Phil tucks himself closer to Dan, the movement of his hips undeniable.
“Phil, I swear to god.” Dan pulls back to find a shit-eating grin on Phil’s face. “You’re a little shit.”
“Come on, please?” Phil whines. “I’ve missed you. Wanna hang out before we have to go to bed.”
“We have plenty of time before we go to bed, and we’d have more time if you quit distracting me.”
“I’m not,” Phil pouts because he’s a fucking brat.
“Either quit moving, or you’re banned from the office until this is done.” Dan knows his face is pink, his voice wavering as Phil grinds again, painfully slowly but with absolute deliberation. Dan does not let his eyelids flutter, even though they rather desperately want to. He keeps his glare steely, locking his eyes onto Phil’s even as he pulls that face that Dan has never before been able to say no to.
Their stare-off is torture. There are no ticking clocks in their entire house, and yet Dan swears he can hear the seconds going by.
“I hate you,” Phil finally relents, falling limply against Dan, hips not as close and mouth almost certainly puckered in a bratty pout.
“Thank you.” Dan returns to his edit, his heart pounding and head spinning after standing his ground. He works a little quicker, abandoning the usual crispiness of his editing in lieu of getting this thing done. He thought he wanted to draw this out, but Phil is now sulking and Dan’s half hard dick immediately abhors the loss of the slow friction.
Dan quickly tosses the sponsored clip into the middle of the video, playing through the entire thing on four times speed to hastily make sure he didn’t accidentally leave in a twelve minute clip of them making out. (He has never because they will never, but he’s still paranoid about everything he sends to YouTube.)
Phil adjusts his posture, pressing himself into Dan’s crotch for half a second and forcing all the air from Dan’s lungs. Dan means to call it out, but that sweet spot was just reignited and he knows any noise he’d make right now would come out as a moan. He swallows thickly and breathes through Phil shifting in his lap for far too long.
Phil kisses Dan’s neck again, or maybe he’s just pressing his face there, Dan can’t be 100% sure; he’s getting dizzy at the sensations across his tense body.
Phil hums a little tune, playing with the hem of Dan’s shirt. Dan thinks he’s genuinely lost in thought, bobbing his head along to his song and kicking his feet. But then he wiggles his hips for real and Dan hisses.
“Phil.” It’s too loud, bordering on harsh. Dan really just wants to get this shit done so he can relieve Phil of the ability to walk or think for the next twelve hours.
“Sorry! I was actually just trying to get comfortable that time.”
Dan huffs out a breath. “That time,” he mocks.
Phil sighs and rests his cheek against Dan’s shoulder. Dan expects him to say something, try to tell Dan to hurry up, anything other than close his eyes and go still in his arms. Dan breathes in relief and a little disappointment and returns his hands to his keyboard.
The last minute of footage is out of sync between audio and video and Dan sighs in annoyance. He can get it fixed quickly, it’s just a matter of whether or not tweaking the audio of the end will fuck up the other 29 minutes of footage. He holds his breath as he adjusts the slider and wills god to not let this fuck up as it’s done a thousand times before.
Phil is so warm. His thighs perfectly bracket Dan’s, his chest rising and falling in tandem with Dan’s. His hair smells like honey and his breath against Dan’s neck is about to send him into psychosis.
Just a few more clicks. Phil is getting restless again. His swinging feet dangle a few inches off the ground, the subtle movements Dan is laser-focused in on sending pulses of warmth to his reawakening cock. Dan bites his lip and presses Play on the adjusted audio. Phil’s hands squeeze at Dan’s shirt almost imperceptibly.
The audio is resynced. The beginning is unchanged. The video is done.
Save. Spinning pinwheel of death. Breath hitched. Green check.
“Fucking Christ,” Dan whispers without meaning to, all the tension leaving his body at once.
Phil’s head shoots up and he looks over his shoulder at the saved footage. “Done?” He’s so eager as he turns back to Dan. His eyes shine, his invisible tail wagging in Dan’s lap.
“Done. You got what you want, you fucking bitch.”
“What’d I-?”
Before Phil can even pretend to play dumb, Dan plunges a hand into Phil’s hair and pulls him into a bruising kiss. Every thought that got forced into the back of Dan’s mind reignites in an inferno in his chest. His cock pulsates as it finds the returned friction of Phil’s. They groan into each other’s mouths and drink down the intoxicating taste of their kiss.
Dan shoves a hand into Phil’s pyjamas and takes hold of him, his movements hasty and sloppy and enough to make Phil throw his head back with a sinful moan.
“Oh, god, Dan…”
Dan jerks him hard and fast and Phil grips his shoulders almost painfully with one hand, bracing himself with the other against the desk behind him.
“Fucking distracting me while I’m doing the work you can’t…” Dan grumbles in between harsh bites to the jut of Phil’s exposed collarbone.
Phil whimpers and grips the back of Dan’s head, pulling his face closer to where they both know there’ll be marks tomorrow.
Dan suddenly withdraws his hand and releases Phil’s skin from between his teeth. Phil’s eyes are wide as he stares down at Dan with flushed pink cheeks. His chest heaves and he is sex on legs on top of Dan’s legs.
“What the fuck?” he complains, voice dripping with annoyance.
“Stand up,” Dan demands.
Phil’s blush deepens at his tone. It’s not often Dan takes control in these situations, and they both know Phil only pretends not to fucking love it. “What if I don’t want to?”
Dan growls and grips Phil’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “I said stand up. Pants down.”
Phil swallows around a moan that escapes anyway and slips off Dan’s lap. Dan rises as well, kicking his chair away and listening as it bangs against the wall behind them. Dan grabs the back of Phil’s neck and crashes their lips together again, drinking down the sound of his moans.
Dan loses himself in the kiss, plunged into ecstasy so deep he never wants to see any other light than his own reflecting off Phil. Only when Phil’s hand wanders down Dan’s front to cup his hardness through his joggers does Dan break away from the kiss.
“Turn around,” he whispers against Phil’s lips.
Phil squeaks and goes somehow redder. His eyebrows and lips twitch mischievously and he slowly turns to face the desk. As soon as his eyes are off Dan, Dan presses himself against Phil’s back, feeling his body thrumming with electricity from knee to ribcage. It’s beyond intoxicating to feel him so painfully close and yet so far, separated by too many layers of clothing.
“Fuck’s that look for, you slut?” Dan growls in his ear, grinding his cock in between Phil’s plump ass cheeks and gripping his waist too hard.
“Your work for the night’s over, Danny boy,” Phil purrs, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking.
It’s a miracle Dan doesn’t burst then and there. He knows exactly what Phil means. “What, you want a fucking gold star or something for stretching yourself when we both know it was just because you were so fucking impatient you had to interrupt me working?”
“Yes. I expect it on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.” Phil pushes back against Dan and they both groan at the way their bodies fit together perfectly.
“You’re the only thing gonna be on this desk tomorrow morning,” Dan mutters before sinking his teeth into the back of Phil’s shoulder. Whatever rebuttal Phil was about to spit gets choked out in a high-pitched moan at the sharp pain of the bite.
“Fuck…”
Sometimes it’s hard to tell when Phil likes pain during sex, and Dan’s head is too full of images of how he wants to ravage his boyfriend to tell. The sound brings him down a bit, and he kisses the indents he’s just left in Phil’s skin and wraps his arms around him.
“Alright, love?” His voice has gone all soft despite the lethal tension in the room.
Phil tuts. “Such a fake dom, can’t be mean for two seconds before melting. What am I gonna do with you?”
Dan bites him again, harder this time, now that he’s sure he didn’t hurt Phil.
“Yes,” Phil breathes, “I’m alright, don’t you dare stop.”
Even when Dan’s trying to take charge, Phil is still a demanding brat. Dan fucking loves him.
Dan slips his hands down into the waistband of Phil’s pyjamas and sighs at the lack of pants underneath. He pushes them down Phil’s thighs and salivates at the sight of his beautiful pale behind in full display.
“Fuck,” he breathes like it’s not the millionth time he’s seen his partner’s ass.
Phil hums in satisfaction and presses his cheeks back into Dan’s clothed crotch. “Like what you see?”
Dan pinches Phil’s ass. “You know I do, princess.”
Dan shoves his own pants down his thighs and doesn’t waste the time to fully remove them before grinding his dick between Phil’s ass cheeks. They both sigh now that there’s nothing separating them from what they need, and find a slow rhythm not designed to get either of them off. It’s just to reunite their bodies after a dreadful twelve hours since they did this last.
“D’you have –” Dan begins. Phil reaches to the side and grabs a small blue bottle of lube Dan hadn’t seen him bring in before.
“Fucking slut,” Dan says with a playful slap to Phil’s ass.
“Stop teasing me and get on with it,” Phil whines.
Dan bites his shoulder again, flicking his tongue out to wetten the ridges left behind, and taps Phil’s arm. “Elbows, princess.”
Phil obediently leans down to rest on his elbows, his intoxicating back arch on full display. Dan takes a step back just to admire the shape of him, the curve of his ass he knows is already prepared to take Dan’s impatient cock. Dan strokes himself for a moment just because he can’t help himself, biting down on his lip and tasting iron.
Phil throws him a look over his shoulder. “Come on, don’t have all fuckin’ day.”
“Shut up, bitch.” Dan pops the cap on the bottle and drizzles a generous amount onto his fingers. “I’m taking my time with you and you’re gonna be grateful.”
“Not if I die of old age first.” Phil rolls his eyes and arches his back more and Dan can’t wait another second.
Phil releases a positively sinful moan at the sensation of taking an entire finger in one go. He is deliciously tight and hot and wet and Dan is going to die if he can’t bury himself inside him right fucking now.
“Christ, Phil,” Dan breathes, pumping his finger with incredible ease.
“Another, please don’t keep me waiting.” Phil already sounds wrecked, pushing himself back onto Dan’s hand restlessly.
Dan does as he’s told, watching as if in a trance as his two fingers disappear inside Phil with almost no resistance. His other hand grips at Phil’s waist, trying not to squeeze but still sure to leave bruises. He loves making his claim on Phil visible for days after the fact, it might be his second favourite part of making love to him. Behind, of course, the sensation of Phil sinking down onto his cock. That part is unlike anything and he’s sure he’ll never get enough of it.
Phil pants out his demand for another finger, and Dan quickly obliges, mesmerised at the sight of Phil fucking himself on his hand like there’s nothing else on the planet he’d rather do than fill himself up with the feeling of Dan.
“Please, Dan, need you, please,” Phil croaks, breathless, gasping for air, one hand on his leaking purple cock. His blush is high on his cheeks, spreading down his freckled chest and surely onto the backs of his shoulders dotted with Dan’s bite marks. A thought occurs to Dan and he nearly loses himself there and then.
“Shirt off,” he whispers, knowing what lies in wait for his eyes and his eyes alone.
Phil chuckles breathily, definitely catching onto what Dan wants. He pulls his white shirt over his head and delights at the way Dan growls at the stupid tramp stamp at the base of his spine.
“Needed a front row seat, did you?” Phil teases, looking back over his shoulder and smirking at Dan.
Dan, who is so far gone the words barely register in his swimming head. He has one thought right now, one ability, and it is to slick up his cock with more lube and line himself up with Phil’s pulsating entrance.
He lifts his eyes as soon as he makes contact, asking the silent question they both know the answer to but he will never go further without confirmation of.
Phil nods and that’s all Dan needs.
He plunges into Phil, never taking his eyes off that stupid logo low on his back. It’s the culmination of everything he and Phil have built together, the summary of their life these past 17 years. It’s everything they have, everything they lost, everything that could never be taken away from them. It’s the most important logo in the world and Dan runs the hand not gripping Phil’s hip for dear life over it as if it’s made of something delicate. As if this, the embodiment of their shared life together could be broken by something as precious as the beat of a butterfly’s wing.
Dan moves slowly despite knowing Phil could take it hard right now. He knows what Phil is capable of, knows what his brain desperately wants him to do, and yet still he goes slowly, holding Phil and their past delicately in the palm of his hand because there is nothing more important to him than these moments here. Moments only for them: the feeling of rocking slowly into Phil, the sight of the temporary tattoo from this morning, the knowledge of everything they’ve survived that they will never be able to turn into a lighthearted story time. There is more to the story of Dan and Phil than anyone else will ever know, and so Dan takes his time building up his rhythm, dropping his forehead to the centre of Phil’s spine and pressing a feather-light kiss there for no other reason than the need for Phil to know how much he loves him.
Phil whispers something secret that Dan doesn’t ask to be repeated. He doesn’t know what exactly he said, but doesn’t need to hear the words.
“Love you,” Dan grunts, finally allowing himself to lose his composure, pounding into Phil like his life depends on it.
Phil’s head drops and he spreads his legs wider and thrusts his hips back in tandem with Dan’s brutal pace. The sound of slapping skin fills the office and it’s the most delicious sound in the world. Dan will never get enough of this, of Phil, of everything they’ve created together and everything they’re going to create together for the rest of their lives. He runs a finger over the tacky surface of the Hard Launch logo and watches a wave of goosebumps ripple across Phil’s skin.
“Oh god, Dan,” Phil moans, reaching a hand between his thighs.
Dan is quick to slap him away and take Phil’s leaking cock into his own hand, wanking him sloppily and listening to him pant in his ear as he throws his head back against Dan’s shoulder.
“Come for me, baby,” Dan purrs, sinking his teeth into the closest bit of Phil’s skin he can reach.
Phil groans and throws a hand behind his head to grip Dan’s hair tightly and comes with a cry of Dan’s name. Dan works him through it, slowing the relentless pounding of his cock as Phil is overcome with waves of pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” Phil pants, limbs turning to jelly and chest heaving. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…”
Dan does not. He relishes Phil’s hand pulling his hair and digs his fingers into the sensitive skin of his waist and gives Phil everything he has. He lets his moans fall from his lips freely, thankful beyond words that their office wall is no longer shared by any neighbours.
“Love you, love you, love you…” he chants as the hot coil deep in his belly tightens more and more and more and he can’t keep up his rhythm anymore. He pulls out just as his climax hits him like a ton of bricks, spilling onto the backs of Phil’s plump ass cheeks.
Dan collapses against Phil, struggling to catch his breath as the waves of pleasure course through his trembling body.
“Alright?” he gasps as soon as his voice remembers how to work. He runs a shaking hand down Phil’s side, leaning back only to assess the bruises he’s left him.
“Yeah,” Phil sighs, straightening up and pressing himself back against Dan’s chest. Dan wraps his arms around him tightly and buries his nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling his sweet scent as they both return to earth.
They stand holding each other for a long time, Dan struggling against the urge to cry. He loves this man in his embrace so much, he is so proud of the life they’ve created together, the path they’ve forged, the wars they’ve barely survived to get to where they are today. He knows nothing will ever take away what they have together, and gasps on his next breath at the swell of pride that balloons in his chest.
Phil coos and turns in Dan’s arms, tucking his head under Dan’s chin and squeezing around his waist. “You okay?”
Dan smiles and nods, pecking Phil’s temple. “Love you. So fucking much.”
“Love you, too.” Phil presses a kiss to Dan’s collarbone. “Want me to get the towel?”
Dan shakes his head. “I’ll get it in a minute.”
He gathers Phil up and buries his nose in his disheveled blond hair, heart blossoming with an overwhelming cacophony of love.
He knows it’s silly, to get emotional over a tramp stamp of a podcast logo, but finds he really doesn’t care. He put that temporary tattoo on Phil’s back, the world saw him do it. He staked his claim on his partner, of the life and love they share, the legacy they’ll leave behind one day. How could he not get emotional over it?
He only relents to release Phil from his arms when the sweat covering his body begins to dry and his legs scream in protest from standing for so long. He retrieves a damp cloth from the bathroom across the hall and returns to carefully clean Phil’s legs and hands and the edge of the desk. Once Phil says it’s good enough, Dan leans in and kisses him, gently, slowly. He cups Phil’s jaw and drinks him down, refamiliarising himself with the taste of him after too many intimate minutes without doing so.
Phil demands cuddles before they sleep, and Dan happily curls up with Phil’s cheek pressed to the back of Dan’s shoulder.
“Love you, proud of you,” Dan whispers to the dark room.
“Proud of what?” Phil is already half-asleep.
“Of us. Of everything.”
Phil yawns into Dan’s ear. “You fucking sap.”
Dan chuckles and strokes a thumb along Phil’s arm wrapped around his waist. “Yeah,” he agrees.
Yeah. He definitely is.