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rhub4rb · 5 years

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Home is Where the Heart is

AO3

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-_-_-_-

It was awkward in the living room. Marinette and Bruce were alone, for some apparent "bonding time" that was very much needed according to Alfred. Marinette scowled inwardly at the butler.

Bruce had gone along with adopting Marinette for Alfred, which she didn't quite understand. If anyone had any reason to be distrustful of her, it should be Bruce. She was in his city, fought his kids, had no history. Apparently adopting black-haired, blue-eyed kids was a habit of Bruce's.

She didn't really understand, but she appreciated it, if only somewhat.

"So..." Marinette said. "You adopt kids a lot?" Smooth Marinette, real smooth.

It worked, at least slightly, as Bruce raised an eyebrow at her. It was a reaction! But nothing more came of the topic. They went into silence again, and for a moment, Marinette wondered if he was considering taking back the adoption.

"I lost my parents too," Bruce suddenly said, and Marinette blinked, not even sure if he said anything at all. "I was 8 years old. Alfred took care of me growing up."

Marinette stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Comfort, even if well-meant, didn't seem appropriate. So instead, she shared.

"I lost my parents a week before I came to Gotham," Marinette said, looking at her hands folded in her lap. "I stayed with my grandfather, and then he... he passed away too."

"Were you close?"

Her hands tightened.

"Very."

A moment passed before Bruce said, "No one can ever replace them." Marinette shook her head, feeling her nose starting to tingle as tears built up. She just wanted to go home. To France, to the bakery. To the ever-present scent of baked bread and bear hugs, to flour fights and game nights.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know you only did this because Alfred aske-"

"I didn't do this because Alfred asked me to," Bruce said, cutting her off. "He was going to have you under his custody, I was the one to request adopting you."

Marinette blinked, finally looking up at the man who had let her stay in his home, despite knowing that something shady was going on.

"But... why?"

"Do I need a reason why?" He asked, and Marinette was hit with how similar it sounded to what she told Tikki, once her plan against Hawkmoth had been solidified.

A tear slid down, followed by another one, and before Marinette could even think, her weeping echoed through the halls of the manor, leaving behind a ghost of what she was feeling. She didn't even notice him hugging her until he started shushing in her ear, rocking her back on forth, and it felt so similar to what her papa would do that she just started to cry harder.

It seemed like Bruce understood though. He said nothing, just tried to calm her down, yet still let her cry, let her grieve.

Breakfast the morning after was a quiet affair. Marinette was certain that the other members of the family had heard her weeping, but none of them made a comment. It seemed that grief was a common feeling in this household, and Marinette didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.

It eased the awkward tension that was usually in the dining room, but the fact that Jason was gone somewhere probably helped too, though Marinette had the distinct feeling that he was avoiding her as much as possible.

She couldn't say, it wasn't like they had spent time together as she and Tim had, but maybe it was the looks he would sometimes send her way when he thought she wouldn't notice, questioning and doubtful.

Maybe she wasn't the most forthcoming with him either. Whatever magic that was used on him, used to bring him back, was reeking off of him, pulsating and angry, as if trying to scare her away. It could perhaps be the magic that was causing him to avoid her, and he simply didn't realize it. Or maybe he did, but refrained from saying anything.

Doing a cursory glance around the room, it seemed like almost everyone present had at one point passed away, save for herself and Tim.

Marinette wondered what caused these people to be so willing to give up everything to save lives when they got nothing in return. But then she looked at herself and realized that it was quite simple really.

The feeling of it just being the right thing to do could be strong at times, and maybe this family of vigilantes felt that too.

From what Tikki had told her, Marinette had been destined to be given the miraculous, that she was a true Ladybug. Marinette wasn't sure how to feel about that, that the fates had made such a decision about her before she was even born.

"What are you spacing out about?" Damian suddenly asked, cutting her thoughts off with a harsh tone.

"Nothing," she stated simply, to which he scoffed and turned up her nose.

"Figures you're empty in the head. Are you sure that you actually went to school before coming to Gotham?"

Marinette knew there was more to that question. They had looked her up by now, tried to find her, and they got nothing. All Damian was looking for was some type of confirmation, for her to deny any schooling so he could bust her on something he already knew the answer to.

"Yeah," Marinette said. "I've gone to the same school all my life. I skipped a grade back in elementaire."

This seemed to catch the attention of the other table occupants, Bruce looking up with raised brows.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I did pretty well in college too, though I don't really know what I should do now," she admitted a little reluctantly.

Her dream had always been to design, but now... that dream felt far away, like it was part of the life that she erased, along with everything else. Marinette shrugged.

"It's not like I'm an idiot or something, I did well in school and I worked hard for my grades, it's just... school hasn't exactly been on the forefront of my mind."

"We can discuss what you want to do later," Bruce said, and Marinette nodded, just glad that the topic was dropped for now.

Damian just continued to scowl.

"Why did you let her stay?"

Bruce let out a tired sigh as Damian asked him the question again, not the first time in the week that Damian had cornered him.

"You know, she asked me that question too," Bruce said. Damian just scoffed.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Why do you have such a problem with her staying here?" Bruce asked instead of actually telling Damian what he wanted to know.

"I feel like it's obvious! She shouldn't even be here in the first place!" Damian exclaimed. "You trust Alfred too much sometimes."

Bruce felt a spike of anger grow at this, protectiveness of the father figure of his life rising.

"I have a reason to trust Alfred as much as I do," Bruce said with an air of finality that Damian ignored in favor of continuing the argument.

"He's human, he makes mistakes," Damian said. "How do you know he hasn't misplaced his trust in that girl? How do you know she isn't just playing him to get to us?"

"There are certainly more effective ways to do that than to go through the butler, don't you think?" Bruce asked rhetorically. "If she wanted to do something to us, she would have done so by now."

"I still think you're being a fool for trusting her so easily."

There was silence between the two, Bruce refusing to answer his son at this point, and Damian refusing to step down on the idea that Marinette could maybe be trustworthy.

Of course, Bruce didn't trust Marinette. He hadn't told her about the Batcave and their nightly activities for a reason, but he wasn't about to throw her out either, not after what happened the night before, not after Alfred had already told him that the girl had nowhere to go.

Maybe he really did have a bad habit of adopting kids, but he gave them lives that were better, didn't he? An outlet for all their frustrations against the world. Heck, according to Alfred, Marinette slept in an abandoned building somewhere until she found the butler.

Leaving her now felt wrong, and besides, this way they could keep an even closer eye on her, even if she did hardly leave her room. She and Tim frequently talked apparently, not that Bruce would know. Tim was awake at the most absurd of hours, but his third son seemed to trust her well enough.

It made sense to keep her around.

She was a mystery waiting to be solved, and they were supposed to be the world's greatest detectives. If that was the truth, then they should be able to figure out what was really going on.

"I still think it's a mistake to let her stay."

"Then it's a good thing that this isn't your decision to make."

Marinette and Tim were once again in the kitchen in the middle of the night, neither of them able to sleep yet. It had become an almost nightly ritual at this point, not that Marinette minded much.

"Damian really doesn't like me much, does he?" Marinette noted absentmindedly while she was sketching. She hadn't talked about her shaky relation with Damian to anyone, but it was really starting to get on her nerves.

After their last confrontation, Marinette largely left him alone. She didn't feel like getting yelled at by someone who was only a year older than herself, but she still felt the stink-eye he would send her way, the way he would complain about her to Bruce.

"Don't mind him, he's a brat most of the time, even when he's in a good mood," Tim said, typing away on his computer.

Marinette just hummed, though her sketching slowed. It was weird. She hadn't had this much trouble with a person since Lila, and that was years ago. It didn't help that Marinette already felt like a burden to the family, she didn't tell Bruce to adopt her, she didn't tell Alfred to look out for her this way.

She didn't even realize that she had stopped sketching completely until Tim called out to her.

"This is really getting to you, isn't it?" Tim asked.

Marinette bit her lip before reluctantly nodding.

Tim sighed. "Damian didn't have an easy childhood," he told her. "He might feel threatened by you here."

"But why would he feel threatened? I'm not trying to take his family from him or anything."

"Of course!" Tim admitted. "But Damian is used to things being taken from him, all of us are. He doesn't want to lose it all."

Marinette could understand that. After Paris, after losing everything, even herself, she could only understand it too well.

"I just don't know what to do," Marinette whispered, her voice cracking.

"Give him time, it took a while before he started trusting us too," Tim said, putting a comforting hand over hers. "He'll come around at some point."

Marinette wasn't so sure about that, but she didn't say that to Tim. Instead, she nodded and went back to sketching. Peace once again entered the kitchen, though Marinette's mind was still swirling with the Damian issue.

Suddenly, a box is placed on her sketchbook, and Marinette looks up at Tim questioning.

"Don't take what Damian says too seriously, he really is just a brat most of the time. As for that," Tim said, nodding towards the small black box he placed on her sketchbook. "That's a gift from me to you."

Slowly, Marinette lifted the lid of the box, revealing a sleek black phone.

"I figured you might need one," he explained.

Marinette looked wide-eyed at the phone, then back at Tim, before looking at the phone again and slowly shaking her head.

"I can't accept this-"

"You've had a rough couple of days. Take it."

A second passed, two, before Marinette lunged herself towards Tim, engulfing him in a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She squealed quietly, mindful of the others still sleeping.

-_-_-_-

@constancetruggle @mojos-biggest-fan @lysslovesanime @heredmaquam @luciferge @scribblinggraveyard @thatfandomsgirl @eliza-bich @ki77h3dr4g0n @crazylittlemunchkin @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @skyel0ve @serenacross200 @valeks-princess @thebananathatwrites @aurordraws @nothernbluetongue @bluerosette23 @xxmadamjinxx @graduatedmelon @tritaledkitsune @tinybrie @shamefullove @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @danielslilangel @vivilakitty @kurogaya913 @elspethshadow @theatreandcomicfreak

#marijon #joninette #jonette #home is where the heart is #maribat

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placingglaciers · 6 years

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A Price to Pay

Title: A Price to Pay

Genre: AU, Fluff, Getting Together

Word Count: 8, 278

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol intoxication

Description: In which Phil has a massive cliché crush on his writing tutor, the most popular guy at college, and gets invited to one of his legendary parties. One requirement though: Phil needs a plus one.

Author’s Note: This has been pushed off for a while! (Please remember that this is fiction.)

“You still need to come up with some transitional expressions to help make your paragraph smoother,” his writing tutor remarked, his red pen in his hand, of which he had no restraint on using with Philip’s essay papers. “We’ve been over this.”

If it wasn’t obvious before, then let it be known now that Philip was far more interested in the smoothness of his tutor’s lips rather than the smoothness of his stupid paragraph. His Wednesday afternoon tutoring session only had fifteen minutes remaining. The mere progress they made was on the first page, the following four would have to be reviewed in a later session, of which Philip wasn’t too sad about, of course. Having the most gorgeous boy in school be your unnecessary writing tutor was rather distracting—unnecessary because Philip was an English student, he could write transitional expressions in his sleep if he really wanted to. He admits that having a crush on this boy and tracking him down to this extent was a bit juvenile, but his college days were being numbered and being single during all of them was not ideal. So if playing dumb for a little while would help him get closer to the guy, then so be it.

Philip’s eyes glanced down at the red scribbles that practically vandalized his precious essay and back up into those stunning blue eyes. “Um, right, what’s a transitional expression again?”

You could tell he was being very patient with him as he bit the inside of his cheek and began drumming his pen on the wooden dining hall table. “It’s a sentence variety strategy,” he slowly explained. “You want your writing to sound more creative and poetic, don’t you? It keeps it from sounding monotonous.”

Philip nodded his head in false understanding. “Oh, right, I think my professor gave us a handout on it during class today…” He continued to shuffle through his quite organized creative non-fiction writing binder. He knew exactly where the paper was, but he was hoping that by stalling, his tutor would lose patience and give him all the answers. Philip knew all the right buttons to push to get his way. This was rather fun, actually.

“Well, we could start with this sentence here,” his tutor pointed to one of the sentences. “Instead of saying: ‘I must say that people who don’t like wearing pajamas are wrong,” you could say: ‘However, although some people don’t prefer wearing pajamas, they’re ignoring the facts of the multiple benefits of them.’”

Philip tried his hardest not to cringe in front of him. Two transitional expressions in one sentence? And ending with a prepositional phrase? Never mind the fact that he still kept the contractions in his so-called “revision.” Thank God Philip wasn’t there for actual help. He pretended to think about that awful “sentence” for a few more seconds before coming up with a stupid question. “Yeah, but doesn’t that make the sentence longer?”

“Yes, but that’s what you need.” He annoyingly pointed out to the paragraph with his pen again. “You have way too many short sentences here. This is why I said you need sentence variety.”

For some reason, Philip was feeling highly annoyed. He already finished his final draft yesterday. This was just a way for them to keep occupied. But he really hated being told what to do by a Journalism student, who was completely different from an English student in his opinion. All his tutor wanted to do was report on football games. How difficult could that be? Philip had to actually work hard to gain an audience that wouldn’t be simply handed to him. But then again, he knew not one rule about football, so perhaps he should stay in his own lane. He checked the time on his watch. He was right. Unfortunately, he could only tolerate his tutor for an hour or two at a time and it was getting towards the end of the session. It was almost five o’clock; he was going to be late.

“I think we’re at a stopping point,” his tutor mentioned once he saw Philip check his watch. He began packing his evil red pen and took a drink from his strawberry flavored water. He then said hello to a few passing people.

Philip began packing his writing binder and essay papers slowly in case they wanted to exchange any heartfelt farewells to each other.

“Say, Phil?” his tutor suddenly asked him.

Philip looked up from his book bag and into those dazzling blue eyes again. “Yeah?”

“I know I’ve only known you for half the semester, but letting a stranger review your personal writing takes a lot go guts,” he began.

Philip wasn’t sure where this was going. He admits he poured a lot of personal stories into his essays that were difficult to expose to the public, but that only allowed him to get closer to him. And that was the very point to all of this.

“I mean, writing a whole essay glorifying pajamas?” he continued. “That’s pretty cool.” He put his hand on his toned chest, “I personally sleep naked, but I tried to relate.”

Philip desperately tried to get that image out of his mind. Naked? He hadn’t tried that before, but he’s willing to take up the challenge, especially with him.

“You’re a good writer, Phil,” he said earnestly, leaning in on the table.

Philip allowed himself to blush. “All thanks to you, of course.”

He smiled at him. “Hey, you know I have that party coming up on Friday, right?”

Although Philip should be happy he mentioned it, he couldn’t help but feel dread. He hated parties. The loud music, the annoying people, the alcohol, the drama…he hated it all. After being passed out drunk, waking up on a moist trampoline with half his clothes on at one of his old classmate’s houses a couple years ago, he promised himself he would avoid parties at all costs. But what should he do now? Turn down this exclusive invitation to one of the most legendary parties of the year by the host himself?

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Philip failed to sound enthusiastic.

“You’re always welcome,” his tutor said, getting up from his chair. “But of course, you need a plus one.”

“P-plus one?” Philip asked without thinking.

“Yeah, the goal is to get as many people there as possible,” he explained, casually putting one of his backpack straps over his large shoulder. “If no one brings a plus one, the party would be pretty lame.”

Philip let out a fake chuckle. “Right, I’ll just go with you then.”

“What, no! I’m the host, remember?”

Philip blushed as embarrassment rushed through his lanky body. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t simply ask all his friends; he barely had any to begin with. And sending a campus-wide email would basically guarantee failure (and hatred). This would have to be solved a lot faster than what he was capable of doing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” his tutor asked right as he turned to leave.

Philip nodded his head slightly and smiled. He wasn’t expecting his tutor to give him this type of work. However, he had no other option but to figure it out at a later time. He was going to be late, after all.

If there was one thing Philip was allowed to be proud of, it would be his unofficial board game club. The designated location was in the basement of the library, a bit symbolic as the club was metaphorically underground as well. Philip was denied by the student activities office three years ago for his club proposition, as apparently it didn’t “reflect” on student values. So rather than giving up, he went on with it anyway despite no financial support, campus support, or, really, student body support. Board games were one of his passions; all he wanted to do was create a space for other fellow “gamers” to share their passions together. The club had only less than ten people in it, which was their limit. Any more, and they’ll risk initiating a dirty rat, and the last thing they wanted to do was justify a lame board game club to the Dean.

Philip entered the library’s small basement lounge breathlessly after he rushed his way across campus. Everyone was there, all five of them (excluding himself). He was bad at names, so he only knew a few of them personally. They were at the small snack table, digging in to some chips and candy, otherwise known as fuel for a long night of board games. This week, they were playing Yahtzee, a game Philip didn’t particularly care for, but it won out of majority vote. He dumped his heavy book bag on the floor with the others and joined everyone at the snack table.

“Phil! You look spent!” the vice president exclaimed. “Tutoring session went well, I suppose?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Philip reassured him, reaching for a handful of bright orange nacho cheese flavored Doritos. “I rushed over so I wouldn’t be late.”

“Well you already failed at that,” one of the members made sure to tell him as she filled her Styrofoam cup with cheap fruit punch.

“Wonder what else you’ll fail at tonight,” another member added, sitting at the wooden round table that was in the middle of the dimly lit room.

Philip rolled his eyes, already enjoying the competitive atmosphere in the room. “You guys know I’m bad at dice games!”

As everyone took their seats in their own unique chairs (campus furniture barely comes in complete sets), Philip filled his snack plate with more Doritos and quickly joined the others. He was left with the orange leather chair, of which he was certain it hadn’t been cleaned since the seventies. He sat in between the vice president and a brown-haired boy of which he forgot the name of as he was the newest member.

“Alright, the meeting has commenced!” the president announced excitedly. “Looks like everyone is here, so that is great. Thanks to those of you who donated tonight’s snacks. Though you may not be reimbursed with money, I hope tonight’s fun will be a sufficient payback.”

Everyone around the table rolled their eyes, but laughed anyways.

“For tonight’s agenda, we will cover our plans for the next meeting and get started with the game!” the president continued enthusiastically. “I say we’d be done at around nine? Ten?”

Up to five hours of constant dice rattling? Philip was sure he’ll end the night with an intense migraine.

“According to the club’s survey,” the vice president chimed in, holding a small piece of paper in his hands, “there is yet another tie between Scrabble and Clue. Therefore, according to the unofficial rules, there must be a coin toss. Would anyone like to volunteer?” He looked around the room eagerly.

No one made the effort to retrieve any coin, because perhaps there wasn’t one there to begin with.

“Alright, fine,” the vice president sighed and shoved his hand in his back pocket. “I know college kids are poor, but come on.” He placed the coin in his hands. “Heads for Scrabble, tails for Clue. Now, we all know I don’t know how to do this correctly, so I’ll just throw it against the wall.”

The coin flew through the air and clinked against the wall and then on the vinyl tiled floor. The brown haired boy that sat next to Philip looked behind and announced, “Tails!”

Philip crossed his arms and pouted. He liked Clue, but he was much better at Scrabble. Much to his dismay, most of the table cheered. The only way for him to feel better about this was if he was guaranteed to be Professor Plum, but the chances of that were slim.

“Its sick how most of you guys choose murder over a word game,” Philip bitterly pointed out.

“Words will always exist, but dead bodies will not,” the president wisely replied.

One of the members grabbed the Yahtzee box and opened it before everyone.

“Rules are simple: I’m sure you all know how it works, just roll the dice and use your basic math skills,” the president briefly explained as he tore off three score sheets. “There will be three teams to make it more fun,” he then pointed to different groups. “We’ll have the Girl Team, the President Team, and the, uh, Dan and Phil Team.”

“Uh, excuse me?” One of the girls retorted. “Why must our team be defined as our gender?”

The president rubbed his face tiredly, “Oh my God,” he muttered quietly. “Okay, just be whatever team you want to be.”

“Alright, then, we’ll be the Queen Team,” the other girl confidently decided.

Philip wasn’t sure if that was any better than the first, but he rather not interfere. He had more problems to deal with. Not only did he just learn his neighbor’s name for the first time, but he also had to be paired with him. From what he could recall, all Daniel was good at was Outburst, which was admirable, but not very helpful in this situation.

“So, are you good at rolling or at math?” Daniel whispered in his ear.

“Neither,” Philip replied quietly, writing both of their names on the score sheet. “I’ll just be here for moral support.”

“Moral support?” Daniel whisper-shouted back. “You can’t expect me to be an expert at the both of them!”

“Wait, you actually expect us to win?” Philip asked while the “Queen Team” rolled. “The girls cheat and the other two never let anything go. It’s exhausting.” He watched as the girls scored a full house. He then whispered in Daniel’s ear, “I think we should just float for a while before we make any waves.”

“Well too bad, you’re rolling with the tide,” Daniel handed him the dice-filled blue cup that probably had been touched by way too many people by this point.

Philip’s stomach tightened as he loudly shook the dice in the cup. He then threw them out on the table, each of them landing their own way. There were a lot of different black dots looking back at him, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that. He looked up at the rest of the table and they looked at him with a glimmer of disbelief in their eyes. He, too, knew what this meant. It just felt too unreal to accept it yet.

“Phil!” Daniel exclaimed and shook his shoulders excitedly.

A smile creeped across Philip’s face, but he kept silent.

“Man! And it’s the first one of the night!” the vice president commented, with a tad bit of jealousy.

Philip turned his chin up proudly as he handed the dice to the President Team. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about that?”

The president snatched the cup from his hands and offered him a nasty look. “Shove all five of these dice up your behind until you’re constipated for a week!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Philip yelled back, almost rising from his seat from rage.

The game did end up continuing until ten, but Philip didn’t care. Daniel and he were rightfully in second place, with the so-called “Queens” winning. There was a long argument afterwards on the speculation of cheating, but was interrupted by one of the late-working librarians. Once they all left, the fall night air caused Philip to shiver a little as he didn’t bring his jacket. The moon was high in the sky and the campus was still and quiet, a big difference from all the escalation from tonight’s meeting.

“Great game,” Daniel said behind him as they walked toward the dorms.

Philip felt embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t done much talking to Daniel. In fact, he didn’t even know he lived in the dorms until now. But it wasn’t like talking to him was the worst thing in the world. It was actually quite nice. He felt more like himself and he was willing to challenge himself more with his friends than with his writing tutor. He felt free and he had fun, which was what he needed after knowing what he had to do between right now and Friday night.

“Oh, um, thanks,” Philip replied, adjusting his glasses. He waited a few seconds for Daniel to catch up with him on the sidewalk. “Sorry we didn’t win.”

Daniel shrugged, “At least it wasn’t a massive insult to our intelligence. It’s a game of chance, you can’t control it.”

Philip kept his mind on more important matters than the dull conversation. He was trying to see how inviting one of the board game club members would work out. They were the only people he talked to, after all. First, he’d have to convince them that his writing tutor had more than two brain cells to rub together, which would be a miracle in itself. Then, he’d have to force them into a loud, obnoxious party full of drunk, pretentious, senseless people. And asking a bunch of lame introverts to do anything is exhausting in the first place. Perhaps he could show up without a plus one? It’s not like there’ll actually be a doorman checking every single person, right? It’s a college party, since when were there rules anyway?

“Are you okay?” he heard Daniel ask him with concern.

Philip’s worrisome thoughts drifted away and he looked at him in confusion. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering because your teeth were making weird noises. I couldn’t tell if you were grinding them or chattering.”

He brought his arms closer to his body, “the latter.”

Daniel began unzipping his jacket, “here, you can—”

The beep of the resident hall door unlocking due to Philip swiping his I.D. interrupted him. Philip opened the door. “I…don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

Daniel offered a disappointed smile and entered the building. “Um, well, goodnight I guess.”

He doubted his polite positivity, but he could take all the luck he could get.

***

As Philip yawned loudly in his warm bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he never recalled a more vivid dream than the one he had last night. He felt like he barely had any sleep, and the dream didn’t make it any easier. He put his glasses on and instinctively reached for his phone from his desk to check if he had any overnight notifications. He had a mysterious email from someone at his school named Daniel Howell in response to his online advertisement. At first, he couldn’t believe it. He read the email over and over again, but it still came to the same conclusion: this Daniel guy wanted to be his date for Friday night. He scratched his head; he could’ve sworn his dream was exactly like this, posting an online ad on some job website as a joke to get a desperate date on Friday night. With this sudden realization, and panic, he checked and understood that sleep deprivation could make a person do a lot of questionable things. He quickly deleted the advertisement as soon as he had the opportunity, cringing at the very fact that he ever did such a thing. But now what was he going to do with this Daniel guy? He could’ve sworn he met someone last night by the same first name, unless that was a dream as well. But no way would that Daniel be interested in some stupid party anyway. But besides that, Philip somehow finally had a plus one! Being that he was going to be late for his morning class if he spent any more time in bed, he decided to respond later to the email and get moving.

Throughout the day, Philip was too preoccupied with doing homework, thinking about last night’s meeting, and reading his new book to even spend one minute thinking about the party. He even almost promised himself to attend the free movie showing on Friday if he hadn’t checked his calendar first. He was subsequently hit with dread for the remainder of the day. Then it somehow got worse when he had to be faced with the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen for an hour.

“There you go again, using your passive voice rather than active,” his tutor told him, making a red mess out of his paper. “Pajamas are not worn by people, people wear pajamas! Always put the subject first to keep your audience reading. It gives it a little more life, you know?”

Philip was a little more annoyed today than usual. He was growing impatient, too. The semester was halfway over and all he knew about this boy was that he played basketball, lived off campus, knew literally everybody, wanted to be a sports journalist, and hated having too much ice in his beverages. This was only the tip of the iceberg, Philip was certain of it. There had to be something more interesting to him than those few things. What was his favorite color? What board game does he like to play with his family? What movies does he cry to? It’s becoming exhausting to keep going like this. Philip had poured his heart to him through his writing, bought him multiple coffees, dedicated most of his afternoons, and even waited on him when he was an hour late repeatedly. Something had to be done about this. Philip bit his lip as he looked at him across the table, too concentrated on the flow of his red pen to notice. Friday was going to be it. The most popular guy in school was going to fall in love with him on that night. It only seemed fair. Now all Philip had to do was come up with an infallible plan.

“Sorry, old habit…” Philip had to respond. “Did you check my revisions?”

“Uh, yeah, they were pretty good,” he replied, barely paying attention to him. “When did you say this was due again?”

“Next Wednesday,” Philip answered, checking his calendar, although it didn’t matter.

“Right, perhaps we can meet again on Monday? You know this weekend is a bit busy for me.” He set down his pen and half smiled at him. “Which, now that I mentioned it, who are you planning on bringing?”

Philip’s insides seemed to tighten all together at the same time, keeping him frozen in place. “I, uh, well…” he cleared his throat as he struggled to come up with a believable lie. “Someone I met…l-last week.” He honestly forgot all about the email from this morning.

His tutor flashed him an impressed smile. “Phil! Wow! I can’t wait to meet them! Honestly, ugh, I’m so excited for Friday! I have a legit deejay coming, I’m getting a bubble pit installed, all the beer you can drink, and a bonfire. It’s gonna be sick! Legendary even!”

Philip didn’t say anything as he wasn’t sure if any of those activities sounded good together. It sounded all too loud, boring, and unnecessary. At least nothing would distract him from his plan. He just hoped he would be able to execute it.

***

As the party began at nine, Philip contacted Daniel Howell to meet in his dorm room at eight. Either way, Philip thought nine was a bit late to start a party, but he didn’t make the rules. He probably wasn’t going to stay there all night anyway; he didn’t need to. He believed an hour should be sufficient to kiss a few times and get on with it. Currently, he was lying on his bed, staring up at his ugly water stained dropped ceiling, wishing Daniel Howell was there for some reason. He really needed someone to talk to. His chest was tight and his mind was racing, the way it usually did when he was hit with a wave of anxiety. He was finally beginning to have second-thoughts about all of this. Sure, he was a smart guy, but could he really pull something like this off? And what should he wear or say or do with his hands? He hadn’t kissed anybody in well over five months, and that was just for the pizza guy who he couldn’t afford a proper tip for (that was a bit of a disaster). Of course, the obvious answer would be to just be himself, but that’s a bit difficult as he was everything but that around his tutor.

A sharp knock came from the door, which forced Philip out of his mind a little. He climbed out of his bed and went to open it.

“Hi.” It was Daniel, but not the Daniel he was expecting.

His eyebrows scrunched a little in confusion. “Daniel, right?”

He was so cute. He was wearing probably one of the nicest white button down shirts he could find in his closet and his black jeans didn’t even have one speck of lint on them. He wore a dark gray bomber jacket over his shirt with a deck of vintage Bicycle cards and a single red rose in his hands. It was as if he was going on a special date. Philip felt bad. And stupid. Of course this was the Daniel all along. Nobody else would be pathetic enough to respond to such a silly online advertisement. Philip had to set things straight fast.

“Well I sure hope so!” Daniel exclaimed. “Or else I’m gonna be late for a date with the most incredible guy I know!”

He bit his lip and allowed Daniel to come further into his room. He closed the door behind him. “Dan, I have to tell you something…” he looked at Daniel sincerely, who was sitting patiently on his neatly made bed. He leaned on his dresser that was across the room. “This is not what you think this is. You’re…not exactly going to be my date for tonight.”

Daniel’s face sunk and his eyes were filled with disappointment. “What do you need me to do then?”

Philip felt bad for making him feel this way, but he had to tell him the truth somehow sometime. “I just need you to be my plus one when we enter the party, and then we can go our separate ways. So if you were worried if you were gonna have to be stuck with me all night, then I’m sure you feel a little relieved now.”

Daniel bit his lip and set the deck of cards and the rose gently on the blue bedspread. “Why are you even going to this dumb party anyway? This isn’t like you.”

Oh, what did Daniel know about him anyways! They practically just met earlier this week. He didn’t need to say that. Philip sighed, “Look, this will only be for an hour—tops. I just really need to do this one thing.”

“Yeah?” Daniel folded his arms. “And what is that?”

Now that he was going to say it out loud, the whole plan sounded stupid. Convince a practical stranger to kiss him? Could he be any more of a creep? “Well, um, it’s kinda silly, but it’ll help me in the long run, I’m sure.” He finally went to sit by Daniel on the bed. He rubbed his arm nervously, “I have a bit of a crush on my writing tutor.”

Daniel nodded; “Yeah?” He paused for a moment and then said, “Phil, we all knew that. I mean, it’s obvious you don’t need a writing tutor. And, honestly, who doesn’t have a crush on that guy? He’s gorgeous.”

Philip’s face lit up and he smiled widely, “Exactly! And perhaps by him inviting me tonight might say something, a small something, but still something.” He looked at him sincerely, “Dan, I really need to do this. It’s been killing me ever since the semester started. I just need your help just for one night.”

It took a while, but Daniel finally nodded and agreed to his plan.

“Alright, first, you look terrible,” Philip commented on Daniel’s outfit. He got up and rummaged through his dresser drawers and pulled out one of his blue college t-shirts. He threw it in Daniel’s direction. “Wear that. We’re going to a party, not to dinner.”

Daniel shrugged off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Great, just my favorite color.”

Philip turned his head, slightly excited to know this special fact about him. “Really?”

Daniel giggled, “No, it’s black, but you were close.” He shoved his head through the t-shirt, “And what were you planning to wear?”

“This!” Philip pointed to his gray sweatpants and tight yellow t-shirt he got for free from volunteering. “What’s wrong with this?”

Daniel pushed his arms through the sleeves and pulled the rest of the shirt down over his torso. “It looks like you’re trying too hard at not trying too hard.”

Blood rushed to Philip’s cheeks and he glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like he was going to the party in his pajamas. And although that was what his essay was about, he rather not be a living example of it in front of his crush. “What should I do then?”

Daniel walked toward the mirror to fix his wavy brown hair. He shrugged, “Just slip on some jeans and a nice sweater. You’ll be fine.”

“A sweater?” Philip retorted, heading toward his closet.

“It shows off your softer side,” Daniel replied and then looked at him sincerely. “Guys like that.”

***

“Do you think its lame?” Philip asked Daniel with his head in his hands. “Arriving on time at a party?” They were a block away from the supposedly “abandoned” house where the party was located. They chose to sit on a low stone wall someone had in their front yard. The street was barely lit and quiet as most of the houses in the neighborhood were abandoned also. Philip heard it had something to do with the economy, but he didn’t care enough to pay attention. He crushed a few dry leaves with his sneaker and shivered as an autumn breeze passed by. He’s glad he’s wearing this sweater because it was another cold night. Daniel zipped his jacket and shoved his hands in its pockets.

“This is my first party, so I’m not quite sure,” Daniel responded, watching a few cars pass by.

“We should’ve stopped by Starbucks or something.” Philip’s mind was racing with thoughts of his own inadequacy and regrets.

Daniel laughed out loud, which put Philip at ease. “Starbucks? Before a party?” he shook his head. “Starbucks is only for when you’re running late for a meeting.” He was quiet for a few moments and then looked at him sincerely. “I mean, we can bail if you want to. Coffee sounds really nice.”

Philip shook his head, “it’s not like it’s every day you get invited to huge parties like this one.”

“You’re right, maybe he’ll take offence to you not coming to his social status event that’s full of other fake people in need to maintain their social status.” Daniel rolled his eyes.

Philip narrowed his eyes at him. “I bet you’re one of those people who announce a ‘social media detox’ and still sticks around just to see if anyone cares. Spoiler alert: no one does.”

Daniel gave him a nasty look. “You’re mean when you’re stressed, you know that?”

Philip sighed and stood up. “Shut up and let’s go.”

Daniel sighed and followed him down the cracked sidewalk. They could hear the loud music pulsing from the party already. Philip could feel it in his chest (or was that his own heartbeat?). More cars raced down the street, with their music blasting as well. The closer they got to the house, they saw all the flashing lights and faint smoke from the bonfire. Philip’s stomach became tenser and his palms began to sweat once he realized this was actually happening. As they approached the house, they came across a long line of people that were already halfway drunk, waiting to enter the house.

“You don’t suppose he actually made a guest list, do you?” Daniel asked Philip in his ear.

Philip was too anxious to answer. There were at least a hundred people in the line. Some people were already being rejected and thrown out, which caused a loud commotion. After twenty or so minutes, they were finally at the front of the line. The whole ordeal felt like it was straight from a movie scene, with the huge intimidating bodyguard (he was actually one of the basketball players) asking for his name and checking the very sophisticated guest list. After they were approved, Philip felt a little better, but not entirely. The inside of the house smelled like mold and cat urine. There were old takeout food wrappers, bottles, cigarette butts, and broken pieces of rotted furniture everywhere. Candles and camping lanterns served as the only few light sources. All the windows were either broken or cracked and bugs were not a rare sight. However, perhaps the music and the people distracted Philip from how bad it really was.

“Alright, in order to do this the most efficient way possible, I think it would be best if we split up,” Philip told Daniel loudly as they stood in the middle of a supposed living room. The chandelier above them was full of cobwebs and it was slightly swaying. “If you find him, you come get me.”

“But how will I know where you are?” Daniel asked him. “By then I would lose him.”

Philip had to admit he hadn’t thought that far into it. “I don’t know…this place can’t possibly be that big…”

“Just…” Daniel reached for his back pocket and took out his phone. “Give me your number.”

With much reluctance, Philip offered his phone number and turned toward the back door to go outside. He was hit with such an abundance of stimulation that he wanted to immediately run and hide from everything. The deejay booth was at the back of the huge backyard with inappropriately large speakers blaring out music that was rather distasteful according to Philip. Next to the deejay booth was the massive bubble pit that surprisingly had a lot of people participating in. As most of the people were nearly naked, Philip didn’t add that to his list of things to do. The bonfire was in the center, with the flames reaching at least six feet in the air. People from upstairs were throwing random furniture to the grass below to feed the fire; there was already a wooden chair, a broken desk, and a mattress. There were at least five kegs of beer sitting around, but no food. That was probably what made Philip the most uncomfortable.

Philip made his way to one of the kegs and poured himself a half cup of beer and sat on the grass near the bonfire by himself, really wishing he had a s’more right about now. He took a drink, hoping it’ll help him find his confidence.

“Well, he’s nowhere in the house, that’s for sure,” Daniel told him breathlessly. He sat down beside him and peered inside of Philip’s empty cup.

“They have no food here,” Philip commented disappointedly, keeping his eyes on the fire.

Daniel shrugged, “They’re narcissists; do you really think they’ll take the precious time to think about food instead of themselves?” He smirked, “besides, all they need to survive is fake internet points.”

“Turn it down a notch, Mr. Edge Lord,” Philip rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just enjoy yourself without pushing your ‘alternative’ agenda on me?”

Daniel smiled at him and he looked around. “They don’t have any games either.”

Philip giggled, “Can you imagine if someone whipped out Monopoly?”

He laughed, “Either you pay the full fine of Boardwalk with a hotel or you get banished to…the bubble pit.”

Philip smiled widely and glanced over at the bubble pit. “What are the chances of him being in there?”

“I think seventy-five percent,” he answered rather confidently. “But first you have to strip.”

“That’ll really get his attention,” Philip laughed, crushing his cup and throwing it into the fire.

At that moment, someone screamed loudly into the deejay’s microphone, requesting a trap remix of “All Star.” Philip was seriously questioning if he suddenly got pushed into an alternate universe where anything was absurdly possible within the heavily skewed timeline. Everyone began dancing recklessly and someone finally threw the smelly old mattress into the fire.

“Well, at least we know what type of music the love of your life enjoys,” Daniel commented rather sarcastically.

“You mean…?” Philip was in disbelief. His eyes scanned the dense crowd and he saw him. He could see that mop of blond hair anywhere. His stomach tensed and he rolled up his sleeves to help cool himself down.

Daniel nudged his shoulder, “Now is your chance!”

Philip sighed and rose to his feet, “Alright, but this requires another drink. Or two.”

After gulping down another cup of beer, Philip fixed his hair, straightened his glasses, and pushed his sleeves up a bit more. He slowly made his way to the crowd. He pushed and shoved between the moist and drunk bodies to get to the life of the party. Finally, after a few suffocating minutes, he bumped into his tutor. Heat rushed over his body as he was shirtless and looked rather good that way.

“H-hi,” Philip began nervously. Backing out now would not only be stupid, but also a complete waste of his time and effort. He accepted the fact that he was stuck here.

“Oh, Phil!” He put a muscular arm around his bony shoulder. “It’s good to see you! I was hoping you would come.”

“Nice party,” Philip complimented while he felt him dance all too closely to his body.

“Aw, this is nothing!” He replied and wrapped a hand around Philip’s waist and shouted in his ear, “Wait until later! I got a firework crew coming!”

All Philip could think about was that firm hand on his waist. Soon he was speaking without thinking. “Do—do you want to get out of here?”

His tutor paused a few seconds, his blue eyes locking with his. Suddenly his large damp hand caressed Philip’s jaw and he glanced at his lips and back up to his eyes. He didn’t hesitate to kiss him hard on the lips, giving no time for Philip to adjust to the warm sensation. “You’re cute,” he simply said in one of his charming smiles.

Philip’s insides were both frozen and moving all over the place at the same time. He felt weak in the knees. That kiss certainly didn’t go as planned, but it still felt exciting to him. None of his thoughts made logical sense anymore. Something in his brain switched and suddenly he felt the need for something more. “I’m serious; do you want to get away?” he had to shout in his ear.

“Oh, I see,” he wiggled his perfect eyebrows at him and took his hand. As he had more authority, the crowd practically parted for them. Philip could breathe better now that there were less people.

“Phil!” Daniel shouted as they passed by him.

All Philip could do was shrug his shoulders as he was being dragged away too fast.

The trip through the house was all but a blur to Philip as there were barely any lights and they were rushing through too quickly. His tutor was opening random doors until he finally discovered a dark room upstairs with still the mattress left. After he slammed the door shut behind them, he pinned Philip against the wall harshly and started kissing his neck.

“Ah!” Philip gasped and tried to figure out where to put his hands. He finally settled to put them on his tutor’s waist. When he finally regained (most) of his senses, he confessed, “I guess you could tell then?”

He felt him smile against his skin. “Phil, though you may be an English genius, you aren’t very good at hiding the obvious.” His lips trailed up to his jaw and he kissed him hard again.

Philip gasped happily again and he pulled him closer. He was pretty sure he just saw literal fireworks outside the window. He heard the bangs and everything. “I suppose you like me too, then?”

“Sure, you could put it that way,” he told him and gave his butt an unexpected squeeze. “Get on the mattress.”

Philip was beginning to feel like this was going way too fast for him. Surely they’re not ready for this already? “Um, is it…is it sanitized?” Philip gently lowered himself on the dirty carpet and rested his knee on the mattress.

“Yeah,” his tutor answered as he plopped himself down on the mattress. A small cloud of dust floated up. “Well, I think so.”

Philip cringed and he tried to sit lightly on the bed. However, the boy climbed over him and kissed him hard enough to push him all the way into the dirty mattress. More explosions could be heard and sparks could be seen outside the bare cracked window. He glanced down at the boy who was now kissing his neck again and felt relieved, accomplished, and lucky at the same time. He took the liberty to run his fingers through his soft blond hair—something he had far too often dreamed about.

His tutor sat up on his knees. “Phil, you still have your clothes on,” he told him as he began to unzip his own jeans.

What? Philip was beginning to feel like something was wrong here. Why was he supposed to be the one to take off his own clothes? That wasn’t how this worked. However, given that he didn’t want to cause any trouble, he reluctantly pulled off his sweater, feeling incredibly self-conscious about his soft torso being too close to the boy’s toned one. Kisses were being trailed all over Philip’s chest now and he was beginning to feel good again. He let out a quiet moan as his heart was racing. Though, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel dirty. Sure, for obvious reasons since he was on the most disgraceful mattress he’s ever encountered, but also because he felt so disconnected from it. They weren’t laughing or making any jokes—not even talking at all. It was only physical. Like he was being used. Perhaps he could change that.

“So, um, what are your plans for fall break?” Philip asked him awkwardly as he struggled to adjust his body from being crushed to death by the muscular one on top of him.

“I don’t ‘do’ talking,” he said firmly as he was kissing down Philip’s stomach. He then sighed in frustration. “Phil, your jeans are still on.”

Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it; Philip wanted to say to him, but went along with it anyway. As his hands inched down to his zipper, he remembered something. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t really expecting this and I’m not really that experienced, sorry.”

“Uh, no?” he sat back on his heels. “But we’ll be fine, right? It’s just one time.”

Despite having the most beautiful body on display before him like that, Philip suddenly didn’t want this anymore. He wanted to find Daniel, leave, and take a long shower. And then perhaps eat some pizza. But not this. Anything but this. Almost without notice, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore and coughed a little. He sat up and tried to retrieve his sweater from the darkness. “I have to go,” he said breathlessly.

His tutor quickly reached out for him and pleaded, “No, stay! Isn’t this what you wanted? What we wanted?”

Philip wrestled out of his grip and coughed again. “You’re drunk,” he slipped his sweater on, but the room was too hot for him to find any comfort in it. “Do you…do you feel that?” he stretched out his collar, trying to let more air into his lungs.

“What do you mean?” he asked, but their attention was immediately diverted to the window. Hot orange flames could be seen, creeping down around the window. “The fireworks!”

Philip didn’t even wait for him. He bolted out the door and ran down the stairs. There was only one thing on his mind. He needed to know where Daniel was. He needed to make sure that he was okay. He oddly didn’t care about himself, or his stupid tutor, or anybody else. It was only Daniel.

Philip desperately rushed outside with a cloud of smoke and his half-naked tutor behind him. They both doubled over and coughed loudly and deeply. Philip saw flashing lights all around him in colors of red, blue, orange, and white. Firefighters in uniform rushed into the abandoned house. Everyone from the party was standing around in the street staring at the blaze. Some were seriously freaking out while others were making jokes and filming it on their phones.

Philip rushed out on to the crowded street in a panic. Where did he last see Daniel? Through everything that has happened within the past thirty or so minutes, he wasn’t sure of a lot of things anymore. He ran his fingers through his incredibly dirty hair and tried to think hard. He really wished he didn’t drink that last cup of beer. He passed by an ambulance that already had somebody on a stretcher. That didn’t relieve his thoughts all that much. Tears were stinging his eyes as his questions still remained unanswered.

“Daniel!” Philip shouted out as he passed through the crowd. “Has anybody seen Dan? Daniel!”

He stopped in his tracks as his back pocket vibrated. He quickly took out his phone and felt relief surge through his body.

“Hey, where are you at?” Daniel asked him on the phone almost too casually. “The freaking house caught on fire! You should’ve seen how it started, it was so ridiculous,” he laughed. “I swear, this idiotic party was set up by a bunch of—”

“Are you okay?” Philip got straight to the point. “Where are you?”

“I, um, I’m…I think I see you,” Daniel replied. “You look terrible.”

Philip turned in circles until he saw a blue dot in the distance. Actually, it was pretty easy to see him as everyone was mostly shirtless to begin with. Philip rushed forward quickly, pushing people to get through, until he met with Daniel. He threw his arms around him tightly, making sure to not let go. He squeezed his eyes shut and by surprise, hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Boy, you must’ve really missed me,” Daniel joked, wrapping his arms around Philip’s waist.

Philip let go so he could take Daniel’s face into his hands. “No, you idiot! I was worried about you!”

Something in Daniel’s mind suddenly clicked as he glanced at the burning house and back at Philip. “Don’t tell me…you weren’t…you weren’t in that house were you?”

Philip sniffled, “Doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Pshhh, yeah, I’m fine,” he brushed off. “How did,” he smiled, “how did your ‘talk’ go?”

Philip stepped back a little and he rolled his eyes. “That guy’s a loser. He made us lay on a filthy dirty mattress and he didn’t even bring a condom!”

“You guys had sex?!” Daniel asked a little too loudly.

Philip giggled and he shook his head. He looked at Daniel for a few seconds and he felt safe. He was glad they were both okay, but more importantly that Daniel actually cared about him. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the fact that Daniel looked good in his own t-shirt, but he felt something he hadn’t felt before. He wasn’t sure where that came from, so he looked at the fireball that was the house to distract him. “No doubt he’ll be going to jail for this,” he looked over at Daniel once more, then back at the flames, and he bit his lip.

Daniel smirked, “Can’t believe you almost were the one that would have to bail him out.” He sighed with relief, “but I guess the only good thing that came out of this is was that you’re still alive.” He smiled at him.

Philip felt something stronger then than when his tutor smiled at him. Oh no. This was certainly not supposed to happen. But perhaps, there were some things he couldn’t control. Very carefully, he took the chance and gently brushed Daniel’s face with his fingertips. He leaned in slowly and he kissed him. It wasn’t hard or desperate like the other kisses he received earlier this night; instead it was more sincere and slow. Daniel kissed him back eagerly, and it was clear that he didn’t do it to express good manners. Philip was sure he never felt anything more right this entire night.

“Was this part of the agreement?” Daniel whispered after kissing him, their foreheads barely touching.

Philip tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“You hired me, remember? The ad? The whole plan you had for tonight?” Daniel asked him. “I don’t mean to be that kind of person, but I’m still on the clock. And I don’t really care about the money, so don’t…”

Philip shook his head apologetically, “I’m sorry, Dan. I honestly forgot.” He bit his lip, “I’m a bit broke at the moment.”

Daniel smiled at him and he brought Philip’s hand up to his lips and he softly kissed it and rested it on his cheek. “That’s okay; I can accept weekly payments.”

#phan #phanfiction #phan fluff #phan au #getting together #tw

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