"Okay, guys that's great, we can take fifteen." The cameraman's voice echoed in the arena as flashbulbs and stage lights flicked on and off in quick succession from the stage, throwing the arena first into shadow, then into a harsh glare.

Dan sat down heavily on the nearest chair, pushing his sweaty fringe from his forehead. "Good, I think the stardom is getting to me. Damn paparazzi. I could see what Gaga was getting at now." He cradled his water bottle, taking a sip.

The cameraman stared at him blankly- babying two emos with smart mouths was way above his pay grade. "Um… yeah. You need to redo the makeup or the lights will mess you up." He threw down the cosmetics bag and hefted the camera on his shoulder. "I'll be back in five, so don't, I don't know, kill one of the stars or wander off or anything." He rolled his eyes, adjusting the camera again and stalking off.

Phil sat down on the seat next to Dan's, perching on the edge. "I don't think he likes us very much."

"No, I don't think he does," Dan smirked, unzipping the makeup. "He can't handle our emo swag."

"Dan, we don't have emo swag."

"Speak for yourself. Here, hold this for me," Dan handed Phil a mirror, raising an eyebrow at his confused look. "What? Just because you constantly look like a washed-out ghost doesn't mean I have to."

Phil laughed, trying to hold it steady as Dan applied foundation. "That's very insensitive," he whined, making Dan snort. They fell quickly into a comfortable silence, but Phil had to catch himself from staring too much at Dan- his eyes kept snagging on his lips, the contours of his cheekbones, the deep whiskey colour of his eyes. He coughed sharply, fidgeting. He'd learned a long time ago that those words only led to worse ones and worse ones led to dreams and dreams led to a thousand hours staring at the ceiling, the dawn light creeping the window frame, as he hated himself almost as much as the dark liquid in his hand that were the exact same colour as Dan's eyes but somehow completely different.

So a bit not good, yeah.

"Hmm," Dan started to contour his cheekbones, and Phil was jolted out of his downward spiral.

"What?"

"You're staring at me again." He laid the brush down and started to root through the bag again, glancing at Phil, who was spluttering.

"Wh-what? No I'm not, don't be silly-"

"You've been doing it all day, too. Don't think I didn't notice." Dan shook his head, smiling. "God, Phil, you're so gay. Say 'no homo' at least."

Phil went still. He knew Dan didn't mean it hurtfully- Dan wasn't exactly Mr Straight McHetero, after all- but Phil was used to his words being said differently. Taunts in a schoolyard. Snipes from his father. The usual, casual slurs, but even now the word made him nervous. "Um, don't say that, Dan," he bit his lip.

"Why not? You're acting it. Why is it a problem?" Dan laughed, confused.

Phil put the mirror down, a little forcefully, crossing his arms. "It just is, okay, Dan. Just don't."

"Oh." The confused look left Dan's face and his eyes widened, a drop of apprehension entering them. "I'm, um, I'm sorry." He looked down, busying himself with the seam of the chair's velvet lining. "I just… I don't know. I didn't know you thought it was a bad thing, I guess. I won't bring it up again." He scratched the back of his neck, refusing to look at Phil.

Phil was lost for a moment, but then realised, a look of horror spreading over his face. "Oh God! No, no Dan, oh my God, I don't think being gay is bad. I didn't mean it like that," he frantically took Dan's hand, ignoring his heart's sudden rush. "I'd never think that, Jesus."

Dan still didn't look at him, lip starting to tremble a little. "I thought… if being called gay is such a big deal to you, you must think- it doesn't matter, anyway. I totally get it if you think that, you wouldn't be the first, that's for sure," he gave a cold laugh. "But yeah, the jokes will stop, or whatever."

"No! Dan, crap, I'm so sorry, please look at me." Dan did, grudgingly. There was still hurt floating in the whiskey, a certain taste of betrayal. "Dan, I swear to God, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, crap, I don't know what I meant, I'm sorry, I really don't mean what you thought I did."

Dan looked away again for a heartbeat, hands playing with something from the makeup kit." "Okay," he nodded, meeting Phil's eyes again. "I know there's something up, but I'm guessing it's pretty personal?" Phil nodded. "Then I'm sorry for pressing it. And the jokes really will stop."

Phil breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"It's fine. Hey, Phil close your eyes," Dan looked up through his lashes (does he even know how hot that is?) and smirked, making Phil's breath catch in his throat. Had Dan guessed why he was so hung up on the gay thing? His mouth turned dry as his eyes fluttered shut. He's going to kiss me. Oh my God. It's happening. There was nothing for a moment, maybe two; then a sharp exhale, and Phil was coughing, laughing, wiping some kind of powder from his eyes. "Dan!" he yelped, shoving him lightly.

Dan could barely breathe for laughing. "You looked so nervous, oh my God," he managed, holding up his palm, which sparkled in the light. "I found some glitter in the makeup," he snorted. Phil lifted a hand to his cheek, looking at his fingertip; they shimmered, catching the flashing lights from the stage.

Phil tried to grab the tube of glitter. "Right, you little-" he poured out a fistful, throwing it at Dan's face. Dan screamed, blindly reaching for some to throw back, face glimmering, alien, beautiful.

Beautiful.

Phil pressed his mouth urgently to Dan's. There was no build up, no heartfelt hesitation like in the movies, just the shape of Dan's lips underneath Phil's, a sense of instinct, of desperation, years of pent up lust. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was telling himself to stop, but he couldn't hear it anymore. He couldn't feel anything at all apart from those lips.

Dan pulled back, breath stuttering. "What? Why… why did you-"

Phil blinked, and the enormity of his actions dropped on his like a tonne of bricks. Oh, God, what have I done? "Dan, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-"

"What I mean," Dan closed his eyes, lifting his fingers to brush against his mouth, "Is why the hell didn't you do that sooner?" He opened his eyes, grabbing onto Phil's shirt and kissing him again. This was even better than the first, his mouth leaving little electric trails on Phil's skin. Phil fell back onto his seat, pulling Dan with him.

"So," he murmured around the kisses. "This is what I wasn't telling you."

"Mhmm." Dan grazed his teeth along Phil's bottom lip.

Phil felt a desperate need to clarify. "About me being gay. And liking you. A lot."

Dan nodded. "Do me a favour, Phil? Stop talking."

"Oh, um, okay," Phil tangled his hands in Dan's hair, the glitter sparkling like diamonds, like raindrops. "S-so you like me too?"

"I thought that was fairly obvious," Dan rolled his eyes.

Phil moved his lips to Dan's throat. "How long?"

Dan was fluid in his hands, flawless. "Years. Since we met."

"Wow. Really?" Phil pulled away for a heartbeat. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" Dan's words came out half-moan, half breath. Good point. "God, Phil. I've waited so long for this. Please, don't stop."

"Your wish, my command," Phil moved his mouth back to Dan's again, the contact a thousand times better than he'd remembered it. Dan shifted so he was properly sat on Phil's chair, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck, while Phil's fingers held his hips, glitter trails streaking their bodies. They could have continued like this for hours, weeks maybe, if they hadn't heard a sharp cough behind them.

"Um, mate, we're ready to shoot again," the cameraman cleared his throat again, averting his eyes from the two men, who were both frozen, twin blushes on their cheeks. They pulled apart quickly, awkwardly disentangling themselves from each other.

Phil smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt. "Yeah, we're ready." A stupid grin was plastered over his face.

"I'm… just going to set the lights up. Stand here for me." The cameraman spoke brusquely- if smartarse emos were above his pay grade, then kissing co-hosts definitely were. Dan laughed, the blush still a visible pink.

"So," he whispered, embarrassed. "I like you a lot. Is this… can this be a thing? Are we a thing?"

Phil took his hand. "You are incredible. This can most definitely be a thing." The world was still altered, somehow glittering and alien after the kiss. "I would like this to be a thing very much."

Dan squeezed the hand. "Me, too." He kissed Phil quickly on the cheek, then turned to the camera, dropping Phil's hand. There was still the fizz between them, though, and Phil hoped to God that would never go away.

"Okay, guys, three, two, one…"

"Hello internet!"

Thank you so much for reading xxx I wrote this in 2 hours with a splitting headache so I'm sorry if it's not very good D:

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