#might make a chapter showing them before the crown bc they were even weirder about each other when they could visit every other year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somanydestiel · 7 years

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The Dandelion Ch 3

Masterlist (Collab with @emyright-funpics) Next week’s chapter will be late bc I’ll be in LA

When given attention and care, plants can begin to flourish, and even bloom, their blossoms opening up to see the sun for the first time. Like a flower, Phil’s petals have begun to open, and for the first time since he could remember, Phil is fairly certain that he’s blooming. A smile is on his face as he gazes at his daisy in the corner. It’s in full bloom right now, matching his own feelings of warmth. A soft knock on the greenhouse door makes his smile broaden, stretching across his face. He doesn’t have to turn to know that it’s Dan. He’s been coming over every morning at this time for the past two weeks. After finishing watering the daisy, Phil spins and motions to some cookies, tea, and sandwiches, “I made us lunch.”

“Thanks,” Dan says, trotting over to Phil, his new crop top he bought for “school,” which starts in a couple weeks, even shorter than the last one he wore- it barely reaches the bottom of his ribs, and it’s a soft grey color with a purple crown on it. “And here I thought you were completely unaware of normal human customs,” he teases.

“Everything has to consume nutrients. Plants get it from soil, I like getting mine from cookies,” Phil smiled, also teasing, despite his odd words. He sits, motioning for Dan to do the same, however Phil pointedly ignores Dan’s shirt shirt, eyes looking everywhere else.

That makes Dan laugh as he pours two mugs of tea, reaching for sugar to add to his. “Me too. You know, Phil, you’re acting weird- well, weirder than usual. Everything okay?”

“Oh, I just…” Phil averts his eyes again, subconsciously pulling his own shirt down. “You look cold, maybe you should wear a jacket?” Phil swallows hard. “I just mean… Sorry. It's fine.” Phil swallows again. “I'm sorry, I guess I'm not used to fashion, style. I don't like dressing like that anymore.” Phil doesn't explain when he did like dressing like that, the statement being left open.

“Oh…” Dan looks down, blushing- you’re stupid you made him uncomfortable he’s going to hate you he’s going to hate you- “I’m sorry, I- do you want me to go home and change or something?”

“No, no please, I'm sorry, wear anything that makes you happy!” Phil says quickly, looking incredibly guilty for some reason. “It looks very nice on you, Dan. Is that why you left the other place? Sorry, that made no sense, I just mean… Never mind.” Phil yanks a cookie from the plate and munches it thoughtfully, looking down and wishing he wasn't so awkward. He also wonders, thoughtfully, if he'll ever know why Dan left. “Secrets are funny,” he says thoughtfully, continuing the munch the cookie.

Instead of really responding, Dan just watches Phil eat and takes a sip of his tea. Yet again, the topic of why Dan left his old home has been brought up, and Phil has just mentioned secrets out of nowhere. For some reason, instead of sounding invasive, Dan can’t help but find Phil to be similar to a curious puppy dog, inept at social interactions, but sweet and loving regardless.

“What kind of tea is this?”

“Oh, this is matcha tea. It's like green tea, only I use matcha powder, do you like it?” Phil asks hopefully, tilting his head adorably. “It's very healthy and good for you. I decided to make it for you since maybe it can help you. I hoped that by making it, I could sort of take care of you. I would be very happy if you bloomed, like one of my roses. You seem happier, and you've certainly made me happier, but there's a missing piece of the puzzle. I'd like to solve you, Dan. Not to bring up something bad, but to help you. I know bringing up bad things can be very hurtful…. But maybe in the end it will help us both. Something about you being here frightens, I only hope that my worst fears about you aren't true… You're too kind for that.”

“It’s delicious, thank you. You make me happier too, but, Phil, I can’t talk about stuff yet. You have to understand?” Dan says around a cookie.

He starts to think about the comparison to roses, a flower so commonly associated with love and romance. The more he thinks about it, the more it also begins to occur to him that he doesn’t just want to be friends with Phil, even though Phil probably has no interest in anything else.

“Anyways, tell me: what can I do to help in here today?”

“I always tell you, you just being here helps,” Phil offers a kind smile, his blue eyes crinkling. He straightens his own baby blue shirt, giving a soft giggle. “Assuming the pink ice cream on my shirt doesn't make you too hungry, you can stop eating and we’ll get to watering and things. Also, I wanna show you. Come, look how healthy and happy my ferns are! They were curling up, but thanks to your advice they're doing well again. Look.” Phil reaches his hand out, however he blushes bright pink when Dan reaches out at the same time, and their hands touch. Instead of pulling away, however, Phil lets his hand close over Dan’s their fingers interlacing. Phil stares at the touch for a moment, before humming softly, a smile gracing his lips. Too soft to be heard quite right, Phil murmurs something about human contact, before he looks shyly up to meet Dan’s eyes.

The touch is unexpected, but not unwanted. Dan’s face breaks out into a large grin as he allows himself to be dragged to the ferns, which are reaching up into the sky majestically, leaving criss crossed shadows on their pot, the floor, and Dan and Phil.

“I’m glad they’re better,” Dan says, looking up at Phil.

He doesn’t know quite how it happens, just that all of a sudden he can feel Phil’s warm hands on his lower back, his own arms are wrapped around Phil’s neck, he’s standing on the tips of his toes, and his lips are pressed against Phil’s. Despite the fact that they’re usually bitten raw, they’re soft and welcoming when Dan kisses him. Like any cliche movie, he feels something heated run from his head to his toes and he never wants to let go.

The kiss lasts all of ten seconds, yet before Dan knows what hit him, he's on the floor, his cheek and bum stinging from where he's fallen, Phil staring down at him with skin so pale it looks paper thin. Phil’s eyes are wild and terrified, his hands held up in surrender, before suddenly he’s dashing from the greenhouse, chased by the sounds of his sobs. Phil falls in the lawn, the palms of his hands and the knees of his blue cotton pants becoming painted with mud, however he scrambles again to his feet, sobbing even harder, and then he's out the back gate, dashing for somewhere he can cry.

Dan should follow him. He should, he should go after Phil, because he’s obviously upset and in need of comforting, but his feet have a different idea. They pick him up from the ground -the ground where he shoved you because you’re disgusting you’re disgusting he hates you- and carry him home, tears running down his cheeks too, and into the downstairs bathroom so he can get out the first aid kit. Slowly and deliberately, he cleans out the shallow scrapes on his hands and his cheek, bandages them, and trudges upstairs to shower. Whenever Dan’s upset, that’s what he does, so he can pretend that he’s washing all of his troubles down the drain instead of holding onto them. He throws the (now stained with dirt) shorts into the trash, and buries the shirt deep at the bottom of his dirty clothes hamper when he gets out.

Day turns into sunset, and as the yellows and pinks of the clouds become painted across the sky, Dan hears soft noises from outside his terrace. Dejected as he is, he peeks out of the window, where he finds nothing there but a few small rocks sitting innocently on his balcony with no apparent reason or way they'd flown up to the second story. That night, Dan can hardly sleep, and he wakes frequently, finally giving up on sleep at 5am. When mid-morning comes, he thinks about whether or not to go to Phil’s. He stays in his room.

It isn't until that night that he ventures out due to more small noises out by his terrace. This time, though, it's not the sound of rocks, it's the sound of soft whimpers. They seem suspiciously close, nonetheless he opens the blinds and sees Phil huddled in a ball on the edge of his balcony. Dan almost screams.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” He whisper yells, not wanting to alert his parents despite the tears clinging to his lashes and the obvious distress of the boy in front of him. “Come inside, you shouldn’t be out here at night, it gets too windy.”

“My dad raped me when I was eight,” the words come out of nowhere. They're matter-of-fact, stated the same way one might state that yes, in fact, it is rather windy. They're so abrupt that Dan isn't sure he’s heard right, however Phil pushes on in that same, monotone, emotionless voice. “That's why I ran away from you. I like you, and I wanted to kiss you. I didn't know how I'd react. I've never kissed anyone since him. He left. He's gone now. When he left I planted my first flower. I chose to plant an English daisy, because English daisies represent innocence, and I wanted to nurture that, even if mine was gone. I wanted to see it grow up happy, to nurture and take care of it like mum said a parent does. I thought maybe I could be a good papa to my flower, so it could grow up and be happy. I just wanted my daisy to grow up and be happy, and know about good papas. I never left it.” Phil makes no move to stand, but instead continues to hug his knees, his gaze unfocused and far away.

“Phil,” Dan says softly, going outside himself and sinking to his knees beside Phil so they’re at eye level. “I- I’m so sorry… did he ever get arrested for that?” In all honesty, Dan doesn’t know what to say. Sure, he and Phil have gotten close over the past few weeks, but it’s still not a long time and Phil’s emotionally closed off and he has no idea why Phil told him about this and what to do with the information. Nothing, he thinks you’re gross, he doesn’t want you. “Tell me how to help.”

“No one can help, that's why I grow plants. I nurture them, and they're quite nice. The provide me with yummy fruit, and nice scents, and they make me feel better. No one has really be able to help besides my plants. But then no one had ever really tried, before you. Everyone says I'm strange, but you came to visit me anyway. As I told you, you being there helped. Your presence helped more than you know. I… I like you Dan,” Phil suddenly turns his gaze to stare at Dan, ignoring the question about whether his father was arrested.

“But then again you're really my only friend. Of course I have the gardening club, but you're different. I wish I had a red rose right now, I'd give it to you. You know what a red rose means, yes? Everything is plants to me, they've been all I cared about for years. I almost forgot what it was to care about anyone besides Mum…” Phil swallows hard, one hand slowly landing on top of Dan’s, stroking Dan’s knuckles. His eyes are sad, but he hasn't shed a tear. Instead there's a sort of resignation about them.

Instead of answering, Dan leans into Phil’s side, because he can’t think of anything to say in response. He wants to say something reassuring, or find a proper response to Phil’s insinuation of a romantic gesture, but his tongue seems to fill up his mouth and prevent him from doing so.

He was probably kidding, he doesn’t like you like that, you’re stupid stupid stupid- “I know what they mean, and I… I care about you too.”

“Do you?” Phil’s face lights up with joy, and his hand closes around Dan’s. For a moment he seems to sit there studying Dan, and then very slowly Phil leans in, closer, and still closer. It's barely a ghost of a touch when his lips meet Dan’s cheek, and it's over in mere seconds, however when Phil leans back again, his face is bright and happy. After a moment, he lets out a genuine giggle, before out of the blue declaring. “Wanna see something? It's a secret, but I’ll show you!”

Phil suddenly pulls down his grey and pink ice cream t-shirt to reveal a tiny blue flower tattoo in the middle of his collar bone.

“It’s pretty,” Dan praises, reaching up hesitantly. “May I?” Nodding, Phil looks up at Dan as the boy’s fingers brush against the tattoo, which is vibrant and detailed, done with a practiced hand. “I’ve thought about getting tattoos before, but never actually done anything. Sometimes I draw, though.” He rolls up his pajama pants to reveal a faded sharpie drawing of a rose, one he drew a week or so ago and hasn’t bothered to completely scrub away.

“That's beautiful,” Phil hums softly, tracing the lines with his fingers, a gentle smile on his face. He gazes at the drawing as if it's truly lovely, his eyes soft and warm. The rose is one that Phil imagines would be painted pink, just barely unfolding with its petals almost drooping, but still in tact. A soft smile painting his lips, Phil leans over and kisses it softly, before suddenly leaning against Dan and placing a very gentle arm around Dan’s shoulders and nuzzling into him. “It would look so lovely on you, Dan. If you get it, I'll be there with you. It stings a little, just like a rose thorn, but sometimes you have to get pricked before you see the beauty in the world. You're precious, like a rose, Dan. I'm so glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too,” Dan whispers breathily, his cheeks heating up with a blush and his heart beating faster. He twists his fingers in his shirt, almost afraid to touch Phil, and keeps his eyes on the ground now. “Phil, what are we?”

“What?” Phil tilts his head like a confused little animal. “We’re two boys who love flowers. At least I think I love you nearly as much. Of course you can't fully love someone you've just met, but I feel like I've known you for years.” Phil’s blue eyes are nearly glowing in the dark, however suddenly there's a gust of wind, and then Phil’s shivering violently, cuddling closer to Dan.

It’s easy to pull Phil close in return, but Dan can’t help his face falling- you should have known not to ask he doesn’t like you he- when Phil doesn’t understand the question. “There’s something too familiar and easy about talking to you, as though it was something premeditated by a God.” He pauses to consider the rest of what Phil said. “I think I prefer your company to those of plants.”

“Hm, plants are very nice company, but they don't talk, and they can't cuddle. Dan, perhaps I prefer your company to plants, too,” Phil hums softly, one hand playing with Dan’s curly hair, before Phil gives a soft, childlike giggle. “Your curl, it's like a piggy tail! You're right, in some cases it really might be nicer to have someone like you, rather than plants. Actually, when it comes to someone like you, specifically, I think I'd always prefer your company.” Phil’s childlike eyes study Dan again, little happy crinkles appearing on his face, before Phil gives a soft, kitten-like yawn. “Most people make me frightened, Dan, but you make me feel very safe. I think I could sleep next to you, and I wouldn't even have nightmares, because I'd be thinking about you. What do you think about, when I'm not around?”

“I’m glad I don’t frighten you.” Taking a moment to consider Phil’s question, Dan stares back into Phil’s eyes, thinking in the back of his mind what a pretty mixture of blues, golds, and greens they are. “I think about a lot. Some stuff that happened to me, things I want to do in the future, you- a lot of stuff.”

“What made you leave your old home?” Phil murmurs softly. It's halfway between a statement and a question, and it lingers in the air like the scent of one of Phil’s pungent flowers, or a fruit on a tree, just about to go bad.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dan lies, standing up and pushing Phil away gently. “You should go home and get some rest, Phil.”

“You're sad,” Phil frowns, examining Dan. “I'm sorry, I only want to help you. You're like my Moon flower. You're sick. Not with a temperature, you're ill on the inside, all your feelings are mixed up and muddled. I care about you, Dan. I'd like to help you. Please? If you tell me I won't do anything except sit and try to make it better.” Phil’s eyes search Dan’s, his teeth pulling one plump lip between them nervously.

He doesn’t care he doesn’t care he doesn’t care- “Drop it,” growls Dan. He wants to open up, the same way Phil just did, but the event is too fresh in his mind, too painful still for him to even begin to describe.

Phil’s face falls, and he swallows hard, before murmuring a soft ‘sorry’ and turning towards the balcony nervously. There's a slight mist in the air, causing things to feel moist and slippery. He eyes the way he came up with trepidation, and instead of moving closer, Phil backs up and bumps into Dan, one fist curling into Dan’s shirt with a fast hold. Dan can feel Phil’s fist quaking.

“Phil?” The word is heavy on his tongue and his heart is racing again but for an entirely different- get out get away get away let go of me don’t touch me- reason than it was less than ten minutes ago. “Phil, what are you doing?”

“I'm scared,” Phil whimpers softly. “I… I'm scared of heights. I came up here because I… I wanted to see you. I dunno how to get home. May I sleep here on the balcony tonight, please? And go home by going down the stairs in the morning? I'll stay out here, promise. I… Please?” Phil turns his face desperately to Dan, tears clinging to his lashes, his face innocent and afraid.

Rolling his eyes, Dan pries Phil’s fingers from his shirt and opens the doors to inside. “You’re not sleeping outside. Do you mind sharing a bed?”

“I… If you don't,” Phil bites his lips together nervously. “I trust you, Dan. May we cuddle, just a little bit? Not… Full cuddling. Just… So we’re not alone? I think that's what people like us do. You know, people who want to… To be more than friends? Of course you may want to be just friends. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that. I'm afraid I'm not very good with people, I'm only good with flowers.”

“Of course,” Dan says softly. “Let’s get you some pajamas and go to sleep.”

#phan #phanfic #somanydestiel

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