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It had started with some relatively minor inconveniences–as many great emotional explosions often do.
Touring is stressful, and they both knew that, of course; what Dan had not been prepared for was the countless interruptions on their one day of leisure, throwing a wrench in their plans (which were more his plans that Phil would gleefully be along for the ride for, truthfully) and putting him in a shitty mood. The exhaustion and heat and time away from home all came to a head at the prospect of this- their one day to relax and enjoy themselves- being ruined, and all his effort having been for naught.
This culmination of events was what led to his outburst at Phil, Dan reasons to himself mentally as he follows the older man up the hotel stairs. Just a really shitty day.
The air is thick from the moment they return to the hotel room, making each of Dan’s movements impossibly slow, as if he were walking through waist-deep water. He can feel something radiating off of Phil–whether it is annoyance or something stronger is indecipherable at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Dan says as soon as the heavy door shuts and locks itself behind them. Phil turns to face him, arms crossed but eyes indicating his readiness to listen. “Shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I was upset that my plans for our one day off got messed up. It’s not your fault, of course, it just all came out and you were right there.” He swallows, his eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he says again.
“I forgive you,” Phil says, stepping closer. “I know you were really excited for today.”
“Just wanted to blow off some steam,” Dan mumbles against Phil’s shoulder as he is pulled in for a hug. “Touring is a lot.”
Dan feels Phil nod. “I know. Being away from home for so long, jetlag, sleeping in a bus, feeling smelly, especially in this heat” Phil replies. “It’s hard.” Despite the vagueness of Dan’s previous statement, leave it to Phil to know exactly what he means. He thinks, not for the first time, that Phil was specially designed for him. He doesn’t believe in such things deep down, but it’s still hard to deny all of the evidence accumulated over the time they’ve known one another.
“I have an idea,” Phil says, a brighter tone taking over his voice as he pulls back from the hug. “Since you had such a disappointing day, I can help you unwind a bit now.”
Dan knows what Phil means by “unwind,” but even if he hadn’t, Phil punctuates it with an eyebrow wiggle and his tongue poking out between his teeth as an indicator. Dan simultaneously feels his heart and his cock swell.
“Well, if you insist,” Dan quips, knowing deep down that it will be the last snarky remark he will be able to contribute for the next few hours.
“Okay then,” Phil says, eagerly plopping down onto the single chair in the corner of the hotel room. “Strip.”
Just like that, Dan senses the change in Phil’s demeanor; he can feel Phil shift from his playful, silly self to someone more serious, clearly communicating to Dan that what he is saying is non-negotiable, no matter how much Dan loves to argue.
He listens; he sends a coy smile in Phil's direction and pulls his tee shirt off over his head, slightly ruffling his curly mullet in the process. His hands press against his ribs and slowly slide down, and he relishes in the fact that Phil’s eyes are following the movement, trailing down the length of Dan’s torso.
“Pretty,” Phil says, softy. It’s not an interjection, or an interruption; Phil just wants Dan to hear the compliment.
Dan’s hands reach his belt buckle, which he undoes while staring directly at Phil. He pops open the button on his pants with one hand and uses the other to slowly drag the zipper down, turning around and swaying his hips from side to side as he drags his jeans down his hips, then his legs, and finally steps out of them at his ankles.
He’s just about to make a big show of stripping off his underwear when Phil speaks again, this time even more authoritative than before. “Put your collar on.”
Any remaining bit of coyness Dan was channeling falls apart completely at the tone of Phil’s voice, and he immediately turns to locate the silver chain on one of their bedside tables. He quickly latches it on, turning around to face Phil again in a wordless display of submission.
“Good boy,” Phil replies, obviously pleased. “Finish stripping.”
Dan does as he’s told and works himself out of his boxer briefs, discarding them on the floor with the rest of his clothing. Phil’s eyes drink Dan in, from head to toe; when they had first met, this kind of behavior had made Dan uneasy. Even when you know you’re good-looking, it’s hard not to shrink under that intense of a gaze, Dan had learned. Now, though, Dan knows Phil is not analyzing him. He’s absorbing him. He’s committing him to memory. He’s filing away the image of Dan, naked and standing in front of him, at the age of 33. He’s noticing where there is now muscle definition and remembering how it used to be skin and bone. He’s observing the places his skin now folds or creases when it didn’t before. He’s grateful to be growing older with Dan. Dan is still just barely getting used to it–the feeling it brings when the object of your affections is enamored with you right back.
“Beautiful. Come kneel, love,” Phil says, a softness creeping its way back into his words, coloring the edges of his commands with love, so much love, that Dan can hardly stand it. He feels emotional.
Dan kneels, leaning forward and into Phil’s space, his weight evenly distributed between his knees and his hands. He swallows hard, the lump in his throat nearly catching on the silver, spiked choker wrapped tightly around his neck. He hangs his head low, unable to help the blatant display of shame at how he had acted earlier–but Phil already knows. Phil always knows.
“There’s my soft boy,” Phil nearly whispers, a slender, soft hand reaching out to lightly stroke Dan’s tanned cheek. “I’m on your side. I’ve got you. You know I’ve got you.”
Dan does know. Tears well up in his eyes, hot and heavy, and he tries desperately to blink them away. How real Phil’s words feel–how heavy they hang in the air. He mourns the times in his life when he did not feel this safe. He wants to bottle up these intimate moments, the moments when Dan sheds every layer of self-preservation and simply allows himself to just be, and deliver them back in time to a younger him. How hopeful he would have felt, knowing what fate awaited him. All he had to do was wait. They would find each other in any world.
“My soft puppy,” Phil says again, his light stroking of Dan’s cheek shifting into a firm grip on his chin as he speaks. “You going to be a good puppy for me?”
Dan’s ears perk up at that–the ultimate absolution of wrongdoing, freeing from sin. The invitation to prove that he is good. He is going to be a good puppy. He nods, letting his eyes flutter upwards to meet Phil’s, dark and powerful and hungry.
Phil clicks his tongue once in disapproval, moving his hand to grip tightly at the long part of Dan’s hair along the nape of his neck. “Use your words, pretty boy.”
This would sound like a trick if Dan and Phil didn’t have 15 years of kink negotiation under their belt. Dan is no stranger to this dynamic, though, and he knows that the words Phil is looking for are not actually words at all. He shifts his weight backwards slightly, taking the pressure off of his hands and raising them to his chest, curled up like paws. His tongue finds its way out of his mouth, poking out between plump lips as if he were panting. He holds his position for a moment, then lets out his best imitation of a bark.
“Such a good boy!” Phil immediately praises, and Dan is unable to disguise his delighted beaming.
Just as Dan begins to relish in the light of Phil’s kind words, Phil springs to action, standing up from his position on the chair and frantically beginning to work at undoing his belt. “Lay down, pup.” Dan rushes to oblige, crawling onto the bed on all fours and flipping over to lay on his back. He can’t resist a quick glance down at his exposed body, simultaneously flushing and preening at the thought that Phil has been fully clothed this whole time, while Dan’s entire naked body has been on display.
He glances back over at Phil, seeing he has successfully wriggled out of his jeans and underwear and is now rifling through the bedside drawer in search of the lube.
Phil notices Dan looking out of the corner of his eye, and grins smugly to himself as he adjusts his posture; rather than hunching over the surface of the table as he had been, he braces one hand on the top of it and arches his back, knowing Dan’s eyes have immediately fallen to his bare ass and his pink hole that is undoubtedly on display. “Enjoying the view, pup?” Dan lets out two consecutive barks in response, prompting a slight ass wiggle from Phil just as he locates the lube and snatches it up in his free hand.
Phil turns around dramatically, allowing his hips to sway a bit as he saunters around to the foot of the bed. Dan props himself up on his elbows, leaning up to get the best possible view. Phil climbs atop the bed on his knees and lightly tosses the bottle of lube in Dan’s general direction (it’s probably a miracle it doesn’t hit Dan straight in the face, but they both know very well that this is the one time Dan wouldn’t dare give Phil a hard time for any of his quirks). After a moment of entrancing eye contact, once he notices Dan’s pupils are sufficiently blown and his cheeks are sufficiently red, his pretty mouth slightly ajar as he glances back and forth between Phil’s face and cock, hanging between his legs such a beautiful shade of pink- only then does Phil turn himself around and shuffle backwards on all fours until he is straddling Dan’s stomach.
Phil’s cock brushes against Dan’s where it stands up against his belly, making Dan hiss from the contact and screw his eyes shut tightly. “Fuck,” he whispers, all of the breath seeming to have been knocked out of him somewhere along the way.
“Ah ah,” Phil responds, tracing a single finger up the length of Dan’s throbbing dick. “Such naughty language from such a sweet little puppy. There are better things for you to be doing with your tongue.”
Dan’s eyes fly open again, locking on Phil’s exposed ass inches from his face and releasing a low, greedy growl from the back of his throat as he dives in, tonguing at his hole like it’s a sort of lifeforce. Phil moans in response, pushing himself back onto Dan’s tongue until he’s practically fucking himself on it, Dan’s tongue just a vessel to be rode. Dan moans against Phil’s asshole at the thought, sending a vibration that shocks Phil from the inside.
“Good- good boy,” Phil manages to force out, clearly distracted but using all his effort to maintain his persona. “Stretch me out, pup, I want to take your cock tonight.”
So Dan does, grabbing helplessly at the sheets at his side until his fingers settle on the familiar shape of the lube bottle. He uses it to wetten three fingers on his left hand, bringing his hand up to brush against the pretty pink hole between Phil’s cheeks. Moving one arm leads to a lack of support holding him upright in this slouched position, though, and he winces as his neck begins to ache from the strain.
“Need to lay your head back?” Phil asks quickly, picking up on even the subtlest of Dan’s
cues in a way that only a soulmate could. It’s moments like these, in the quiet isolation and dim lighting of the hotel room they’re sharing, that Dan can allow himself to believe in something more than just what he can see with his naked eyes alone. Souls may not be real, but there is a tie between him and Phil, tethering them together physically, cognitively, emotionally, spiritually. That much is real. Dan knows, because he has seen it.
Dan lays his head back against the cold fabric of the hotel pillow, Phil scooting back to sit up straighter and hover his ass directly above the other man’s face. It’s then that Dan can properly get to work, the new position giving him more freedom to move both arms as necessary and work the first finger inside of Phil.
He always hisses for the first finger. It’s an adjustment, especially due to the size of Dan’s hands. He adjusts quickly, though, pressing back against Dan’s hands and moaning softly to himself.
“Another,” he breathes, head hanging backwards, blonde hair brushing against his shoulders. Dan complies, scissoring the two fingers in the way he has been taught how to, ensuring Phil is adequately prepared to take the size of him.
“Such a good boy,” Phil mutters, and Dan takes the praise as his encouragement to continue his efforts. “Your fingers feel so good, pup. Can’t wait to take your cock. Can’t wait for you to mount me.”
Dan whines at that, wanting so badly to beg and plead but finding himself incapable of speaking any actual words. He helplessly thrusts his hips upwards, chasing any kind of stimulation against his cock and returning empty-handed.
“Not yet, though,” Phil says abruptly, lifting himself away from Dan’s face and moving off of the bed to dig in his luggage. For what, Dan isn’t sure- he feels dazed and lightheaded and needy and absolutely cannot be bothered with Phil’s shenanigans at the moment.
That is, until he sees what it is Phil has dug out of his bag.
“Surprise!” Phil says with glee, that tongue making a reappearance between his teeth, moving back to Dan and straddling his waist once again, their faces looking at one another this time. “I packed them! I didn’t say anything ‘cause I wasn’t sure we’d have a chance to use them, but it looks like the opportunity has presented itself.”
He leans forward, adorning Dan’s head of curly brown hair with a headband that features two fuzzy fake ears of an identical brown color. One ear flops over itself and the other sticks up straight, a detail Phil had insisted on when they first purchased them.
“Think you can take a tail, too?” Phil asks, holding up a buttplug by its silicone insertable end, allowing its long, fuzzy brown tail to dangle below. Dan knows it’s a genuine question–he could say no if he didn’t feel up to it, because the plug could potentially overstimulate him once he’s inside of Phil. It’s a decent size, and if Dan is alright with it Phil can make it vibrate–but that may be just what he needs tonight, Dan decides. So he puts on his best puppy-dog eyes and barks excitedly up at Phil, making the older man’s face break out in a wide grin.
“Flip over then, pup,” he responds, patting on Dan’s hip. Dan does as he’s told, his ass in the air as Phil begins to work him open with one lubed finger.
“Look so pretty with that ass in the air,” Phil says, trailing his free hand down Dan’s spine up to his neck, fisting it into his curls and tugging slightly. “Shame this will be all the action it gets tonight. But you’re not complaining, yeah?”
Dan lets out a happy yelp, his brain beginning to go fuzzy from both the way Phil is speaking to him and the finger in his asshole.
“Of course not.” Dan can hear the smile on Phil’s face as he says it. “My good boy never complains. Sweet little pup.”
It’s with that last sentence that Phil gently works the plug inside of Dan, Dan moaning at the feeling of his ass giving way and stretching to accommodate the thickest part of the toy. Once it is securely in place, Phil plants two smacks on Dan’s ass–not as hard as he could have spanked him, but hard enough to have Dan panting at attention, awaiting his next command.
“Sit pretty on the bed now, baby,” Phil orders, and Dan rushes to comply, sitting with his paws against his chest, chin tipped back, and his tongue hanging out.
“Good boy,” Phil says, scratching at one of the curls behind Dan’s ear before turning himself around, settling onto his forearms with his ass in the air, and turning his head to give instructions over his shoulder.
“Be a good boy for me, yeah?” he starts, sensing Dan’s body practically trembling with anticipation. “Stay.”
Dan knows it’s an exercise in patience (and Phil is one to fucking talk about patience, his brain wants to shout, but he and his brain are not on speaking terms at the moment), so he obediently holds his position, panting at Phil, his ankles beginning to ache slightly from the way his weight is balanced over top of them.
“Good boy. Now come. Fuck me.”
Even though Dan’s brain is not presently in control, he would bet that he’d know how to fuck Phil Lester even in his sleep. The act is so familiar, feels so much like home, that he would probably be capable of doing it post-lobotomy (in some fucked up alternate universe where that is, for some reason, a situation they would ever find themselves in). Dan grips tightly onto Phil’s pale hips, rubbing his dripping, aching cock against Phil’s asshole before finally, finally, pushing himself in.
He wants to wait, to check that Phil is adjusting okay before he begins thrusting, but Phil’s broken moan of “fuck yes,” absolutely obliterates any intention he had of moving slowly. He immediately settles into a ruthless rhythm, barely registering the sight of Phil’s fingers tightly gripping the hotel bed sheets or his blonde hair bouncing with each thrust. What he does notice, though, is the moans, which quickly turn into word vomit that Dan wants to record and play on repeat while he sleeps so that he never forgets how the words sound when they’re falling from Phil’s lips.
“Doing so good for me, pup, you’re fucking me so good. God, I love your cock. You fill me up so well, your cock was made for me, made for the shape of my ass. You fuck like you’re in heat, baby, such a horny puppy who needs relief. That's it, just like that. You’re gonna make me cum soon, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
Dan can hear himself growling primally with every thrust, but the noise sounds far away even in his own ears. His fingertips dig so tightly into Phil’s skin that there’s sure to be bruises later, which Dan will surely feel sorry about. Right now, though, he is overcome with an animalistic urge to take, to fuck, to cum.
Dan is fucking into him in earnest now, feeling absolutely feral with how overwhelmed his desire has left him. He can feel it approaching, the tight coil deep in his stomach, and just as he’s trying to fight it off, to will this moment to last as long as possible, he feels his whole body shudder–Phil has turned on the vibrator, and it’s shape has caused it to be pressed right against his prostate.
“Oh fuck, oh God, Phil, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Me too,” Phil interrupts between grunts, now fucking himself back onto Dan’s cock, their skin making a loud slapping noise every time it connects. “Cum for me, puppy. Fill me up.”
Dan never disobeys an order, so he does; he clenches tight around the toy in his ass and bottoms out completely, holding Phil’s hips in place, his ass cheeks pressed tightly against Dan’s hipbones. He rides out his orgasm like that, his spent cock throbbing as Phil’s asshole squeezes tightly around it while he reaches his own orgasm, painting the hotel’s duvet with streams of cum.
Dan doesn’t remember pulling out, nor does he remember collapsing onto his side on top of the bedding. What he does remember is Phil turning the vibrator off and carefully pulling the plug out of his ass before collapsing next to him, curling up into his shoulder.
“My good puppy,” he mumbles against Dan’s collarbone, reaching one hand up to gently tug at the choker still pressed against Dan’s skin. “You’re my good puppy.”
Dan smiles to himself, finding himself uncaring about the mess of cum on the bed or sticky lube slowly drying at the base of his dick. When Phil says he’s good, he believes him.